"Death, killing, war, conspiracy, undead... , your growth, don't let me down!" Feng Linwan's gaze sprinkled to the entire world of Osiris.

He is like a hard-working old farmer, waiting for the vegetables and grain in his field to grow strong and strong, and provide him with rich rewards.

······

It's a quiet town, and the only hustle and bustle in the town is perhaps the stubborn blacksmith's beating from morning to night.

The war has displaced many people and caused many industries to go from prosperity to weakness.

But blacksmiths are particularly sought-after.

Weapons are the second life of every warrior.

And the blacksmith gave the warriors this life.

The sound of horses' hooves came from a distance, gradually interrupting the silence.

On horseback sat a middle-aged man with white hair, his black armor making him look like a reef on the most dangerous coast, hard, tenacious, cold, and secretly murderous.

Under his crotch is a black horse, but the horse's feet and neck have patches of pitch-black scales, and the connoisseur knows at a glance that this should be a magic horse with the bloodline of the high-ranking Warcraft Nightmare, violent, ferocious, bloodthirsty, and fast as the wind is all it has.

But such a magic horse looks docile when sitting down on that reef-like man, which undoubtedly sets off this white-haired middle-aged man extremely extraordinary.

The sound of horses' hooves is like a stepping stone, knocking on the gate of the entire Lanling Town.

The town was still dead silent, yes, not silent, because there was no one on the streets, in the shops. It's like a dead city.

It's a dead city!

Simba, the mad blacksmith, is the only living person in this town, he is the blacksmith of this town, the inhabitants of this town, the mayor of this town, the guard of this town, and everything in this town.

There is a saying in the Knight Kingdom that if you knock a brick down the corner of the palace, the king will put you in prison, but if you break even a single piece of grass in Lanling Town, then Simba will throw you into his molten iron furnace and burn you to ashes.

Whoever you are! Yes! No matter who you are!

Simba is certainly not an ordinary blacksmith! He used to be a god, the god of forging, Sindra, after the start of the god war, he did not want to participate in the war of the gods, so he gathered his god body and divine power, descended to the mortal world, and became a mortal blacksmith.

The magic horse gently stopped next to the dilapidated blacksmith shop, and the middle-aged man with white hair and black armor jumped off his horse and pushed open the door in front of him.

It was not the majestic giant god who had forged artifacts for the gods, but just an old man who looked like he was in the twilight despite his strong muscles.

The white-haired middle-aged man stood quietly behind the blacksmith, silent, and watched the old man hammer after hammer with the same concentration.

Finally, the old man seemed to be satisfied with looking at the iron bar of unknown shape under the iron tongs, nodded with satisfaction, and then put it into the cold water on the side, and snorted A thick water vapor spread in the air.

At this time, the blacksmith turned his head and looked at the middle-aged man with black armor and white hair.

Immediately afterward, the blacksmith was shaken.

The former god of forging knelt at the feet of the white-haired man, his hands trembling with excitement and clutching the dirt on the ground, and the green tendons were exposed under the rolled sleeves.

The white-haired middle-aged man ignored the heat, picked up the iron bar that had fallen on the ground because the blacksmith lost his mind, and put it on the table very solemnly, then helped the old man up, and said: "I've been waiting for a long time!"

Suddenly the old man burst into tears, yes!

The blacksmith immediately got up from the ground and said to the white-haired middle-aged man, "Your Majesty!

"Your Majesty?" the white-haired middle-aged man smiled.

"Yes, Your Majesty! We've been waiting for you for too long! We haven't been left behind for too long! It's been so long that everyone has forgotten who is the real king of gods and who is the real king of the heavenly gods. The old man said with a serious face.

The white-haired middle-aged man seemed to have thought of something, smiled self-deprecatingly, and then led the way with his hand: "Lead the way ahead!"

An ordinary house was opened, a very ordinary room, small but very warmly furnished, the only regret is that there is no one inside, or there is no living person, a burly stone sculpture with a resolute face standing three meters inside the door of this room, his eyes piercing the window, as if he is contemplative, but more like waiting.

It is not an exaggeration to describe it as subtle and slightly warped, and such a work of art should be worth a lot of money if you want to take it out and sell it.

But the old man picked up his hammer and slammed it into the stone man's chest.

A burst of red light flashed, and large chunks of mud began to fall from the stone man's body.

Soon a stout man stood in front of them.

"Haas, the god of the sky, has seen His Majesty the God King!" said the strong man who instantly knelt on the ground and hammered his chest with his hand.

The originally silent Lanling Town was no longer quiet, click

The white-haired man looked at the dozens of gods gathered in front of him, and more than a thousand demigods, his heart was fluttering, they were naked, the original clothes on their bodies had long since turned into dust, and they all had mounts or pets with a terrifying atmosphere, and the dirt on these mounts or pets that had not yet been completely cleaned was telling others that they were sleeping with their owners.

The white-haired man held the long sword at his waist, looking at the imposing team in front of him, his naked body did not make their majestic body appear unclean, but reflected their high-spiritedness more vividly.

With a swipe, the white-haired man drew the long sword at his waist, pointed in the direction of the sky, and shouted: "Warriors under the banner of strength! The days of rest are over! You will once again set foot on your battlefield and regain your glory! In the name of Hazardin!"

"In the name of Hazardin!"

"In the name of Hazardin!"

"In the name of Hazardin!"

Everyone shouted loudly, as if venting their anger that had been dormant for years.

The god of power is not dead?

He was indeed dead!

Kassa, the god of thunder, was slain on the sky with the help of the power of all parties and the surging momentum.

But Hazardin's soul, under the protection of Feng Linwan, quietly smuggled across the River Styx and was reincarnated as a human race.

He survived for several lifetimes as a Terran.

It wasn't until this life that he accidentally killed a god who had fallen into the mortal world and seized the godhead of that god, that he succeeded in recovering himself, and even found the method of summoning his former part.

Since this world has become like this, then Feng Linwan doesn't mind and adds another fire.

When Hazardin returned from destruction, his enemies would be terrified.

Naturally, some other changes are overlooked.

At the same time, Feng Linwan is also looking forward to whether Hazardin can bring him some surprises.