As if to herald the start of this counterattack, the rumbling sound of artillery bombardment was heard from all over the city, and the sound of the ground was continuous, shaking the former peace of the city of Catrice.

The blazing flames gradually extinguished, and in the continuous shelling, even the darkness with its powerful ability to restore could not be maintained. The muddy darkness scorched by the fire gradually lost its vitality and eventually peeled off the beast in pieces of ash as heaps of ash.

The steel bars that supported the massive body were directly broken by the physical cannonballs, and the cracked metal fragments were wrapped in the powerless darkness and fell into the dust. Whether it was the stone that had been turned into a piece of armor or the wood that had been swallowed into the body, it all fell apart in the heat and scattered to the ground in the blink of an eye.

The sludge was still in motion, but they were at the end of their power, and even struggling to assemble into a new whole only exacerbated their own destruction. The black that had been endless was completely burned by the flames, and only a few embers on the man's body were still slowly wriggling.

It's really incredible, obviously he was engulfed in flames with those black mud before, but at this time, there was not the slightest trace of burns on this strong man's body. However, he was not far from death - not only was his upper body left with many wounds, but the lower half of his body was also missing.

The strength of the recent past was like a phantom, flowing out of his body along with ↙ the darkness that filled his body. But even so, he lost most of his body and was much stronger than ordinary people, perhaps because of the little strength that remained, he did not die on the spot.

He put his misshapen hands in front of him, supporting more than half of his body and dragging it on the ground. Under the burning flames, he had little blood to flow. The mutilated lower body rubbed against the ground a little, making a slight grinding sound of dry wood dragging against the dry rocks.

Those strong arms allowed him to wield a metal greatsword like a toy. However, at this time, it is difficult to even support the mutilated body to move on the ground. Despite this, he insisted that he move himself to the guards. The lowered head looked like a shattered war ghost.

Even if they were once enemies, the miserable appearance of human beings made the hearts of those battle-hardened security officers tremble. A nervous-looking security officer raised his mechanic's gun and aimed it at the man's head and was about to shoot it, but was stopped by Grostide with one hand.

Quite unlike his deranged appearance, Grostide could see in his eyes that the will of man belonged to him. The cold killing intent had receded, and the berserker had finally revealed his "human" nature, though it was probably only a flashback.

Since Curt has something to say to him, let him be—Grostide thought. This berserker is almost a dead man now, and he must not be able to make any waves, and with Curt's ability, he will not be put in the hands of a dying man because of carelessness.

"Second Officer Grostide. There is a contact with the headquarters!"

At this moment, a guard officer standing in an armored vehicle shouted loudly to Grostide, holding a pitch-black radio intercom in his hand. In the blink of an eye, Grostide's face became gloomy, and after whispering a few words to the person beside him, he immediately hurriedly took the intercom.

The sounds of fighting were still echoing around the blocks of the central square, and it was clear that the members of the garrison had been attacked by those who had been accused by Sein Democra. Members of the garrison can shoot at monsters without hesitation, but when the locals are human, they become hesitant.

The fighting continues. While this is a sign that the enemy has not been completely defeated, it at least lets the guards in other locations know that their teammates have not been defeated either.

But the contact from the headquarters wasn't necessarily good news - just look at Grostide's almost completely blackened face to see how bad the situation was. Maybe it's an emergency mobilization, if the enemy is allowed to wreak havoc in the city, the follow-up will be troublesome.

"This is probably the last time we've seen each other, and I still don't know your name. It's embarrassing. ”

So Curt walked over to Grosted's side and slowly walked towards the man who was still struggling on the ground: "Your body probably has less than ten minutes left, and you may be thankful for not dying of blood loss." Well, since it's all the last. Is there anything else you'd like to say? If you want to ask me to make up for your last hit, I'd be more than happy to take your head for a reward. ”

He tried to make his tone as relaxed as possible. But it is also difficult to hide the sadness of the imminent passing of a warrior's life. If he agreed, Curt would have been happy to end his life here, or at least that would have prevented him from dying so badly.

Even if it was transformed by Sain Democra. The body became the carrier of the "bloodline of chaos", and he himself was just a slightly stronger human being. No one could survive with almost all of his blood drained - not to mention that he had now lost almost half of his body. Even the internal organs were destroyed by the darkness, and the moment they were completely inactivated, it was undoubtedly the time when he died.

Ahem –

The man coughed loudly twice, and a sad smile appeared on his face, as if to say to Curt that he was not fragile enough to need someone else to tie the knot. Shattered internal organs erupted from his throat, blood stains and a crimson crimson that belonged to living creatures.

"Curt Rheinster, as that bastard said, you're a tough monster. He coughed as he continued, "But it's my fault for being like this—I thought I could solve this problem, and I thought I was stupid." ”

He struggled to get his words clear, but his shattered body wouldn't allow him to do so. Maybe let Cruise François take his sorcerers to cast them with all his might, maybe he could barely keep him alive for a few minutes with healing spells, but that's the biggest limit.

Unless there is a miracle here, his death is already predestined, and all that remains is the difference between time and pain. Not even a single word in the religious scriptures that preach miracles claims that their gods can keep the incomplete alive.

It's a pity that there is no zài god in this world, and there may be a zài similar to the "creator", but he also doesn't care about what he created and came out of. Religion is nothing more than the product of faith, and most of the "gods" they have shaped are just hypocritical creations.

"There are several traitors in the small, careful management office"

Perhaps knowing that his life was short, the strong man insisted on finishing his sentence, so much so that his voice seemed to be a little out of tune: "me, office, cough cough cough! Don't believe it – ahem, ahem, ahem!"

The man coughed loudly again, and his strong body fell to the ground and trembled, as if it were a badly wounded beast, and its heart was about to die, but it still had to stand up. His ten fingers sank deep into the ground, and the twisted joints spurted blood once again, and there were only a few traces of blood, and the remnants of the blood that had not been swallowed by the darkness still had vitality, and actually condensed into cold crystals in front of Curt's eyes.

The intertwined pattern of red and black was so terrible that even the security officers who were standing around to guard the dark places couldn't help frowning slightly, and looked away from the man who was gathered on him. It's not that they haven't seen bloody scenes, but seeing a living person who is about to die in front of them still insisting on finishing his last words, they all feel a little unacceptable from the bottom of their hearts.

Curt listened to the words of the increasingly heavy wheezing, staring at the man silently, wanting to watch him towards the final end, on the other side, Grostide finally hung up the contact, and then glanced around worriedly, and walked towards Curt and the dying man.

"Ho, Captain, remember, your name is Grostide, I've heard rumors about you. Seeing Grostide approaching slowly, the man who fell to the ground smiled, "It's just in time for the end, and I have a little more to give to you and Leinster." ”

With that, he slammed his broken hands to the ground, allowing his body to stand up suddenly. Watching the man's strange movements, Grostide subconsciously stopped and stepped back, but Curt still stood by his side as if he hadn't reacted.

Although almost everyone thought that the man's previous conversation was a disguise, intending to hurt people in the last moments of his life, his next move far exceeded their expectations. I saw his twisted left hand support his body, allowing his other hand to wave hard

Then he broke the last few ribs and pierced his chest - a little dark liquid slowly flowed out, but without the madness of black mud.

In the moment of the splattering of flesh and blood, Curt, who was standing closer, saw him poke his right hand into his chest, clutching something with all his might. His expression was completely distorted, and the pain and obsession constricted on his scarred face, like a hideous demon for an instant.

Poof!

The sound of something being torn apart mixed in the black liquid that rained down made one feel a certain bad association. At this moment, Curt clearly saw the man take out an egg-sized object from his chest with his thick hand, and then hand it to his eyes.

It was a pitch-black and shiny crystal, with a structure that looked identical to that Lizzie had gathered from the Eye of Truth stronghold, only with a stronger smell of blood. Curt was about to ask him what it was, only to find out that the strong man had died on the spot. (To be continued......)