In the city of recluses, the city of spirits and monsters, there is no sun, moon, or starlight, and even the fire color of the magma is difficult to shine into the lowest sacrifice ground.

In this dark place of death, today I can only see the black lotus burning demon fire, and the corpse mountain descending the demon god.

It's really the perfect picture for the King of Murder to appear.

The dark green demon fire shone on the old yellowed white bones, and the dried pith in the bones oozed fishy mucus.

The dark green demon fire burned on the corpse that had not yet decomposed, and the black blood that had not yet been drained in the veins was bubbling out, like a newly dug spring.

The most beautifully shaped skulls, like the masters of death, stumbled with their jaws, teeth and teeth, staggered their jaws, and piled themselves under the black lotus platform. Layered on top of each other, hollow eye sockets calmly gaze in all directions.

The ribs were cracked at the roots, with fresh blood stains and old rat bite marks, and the roots were upward, as if the wealthy merchants of the southern country were showing off bundles of ivory.

The hollow tibia was amputated, and the wind emitted a sharp mournful roar from the bone hole, but it turned a thousand times, as if to embellish some solemn ceremonial guards in the sorrow, and there were more interesting movements.

The sound of bone horns, whimpering, and the heads of carrion that have not yet fallen off are arranged like dinner plates.

The nerve cord is half detached and half connected, and the eyeball sways gently outside the orbit without wind.

Half of his tongue was pulled out of the corner of his mouth, and he was dying like a leech sprinkled with salt.

There are a few teeth left in the gums with rotten gums, and the heart that has been peeled off the skin is still beating, and every time it beats, a few drops of fresh blood are squeezed out of the ventricles.

This is the reception feast to welcome the king of murder, and I don't know what kind of demons and monsters will gladly taste such a "delicious meal".

I don't know who is beating the drum, and the sound is uneven.

On the black lotus mandala, the miserable green demon fire suddenly rose with the drum beat, burning like a pillar!

The pillar of demon fire is formless and substantial, but it is comparable to the most ferocious battering ram, and the stone wall on the top of the sacrificial ground has not even had time to be burned and melted, and it crumbles like rain!

For a dungeon built between rock formations, there is no greater disaster than a rock crumble.

The council chamber made of black basalt is crumbling.

The treasure trove built of white marble collapsed.

The meditation rooms carved out of giant crystals are even more fragile.

In the process of falling with the shattered rock disk, these beautiful private "strange" rooms, along with the psionic magic that enhanced them, were burned and melted by the miserable green demon fire in the blink of an eye, turning into drops of magma that shimmered with dazzling colored light.

The magma with demonic fire landed on the ground, dripping on the corpses all over the ground in the sacrificial field, but in an instant, it solidified again into a dazzling gem puppet, stepping on the skeleton on tiptoe, stretching out like a willow, entertaining the gods and dancing.

A magnificent city built over hundreds of years by the Grey Dwarf slaves, it only takes a grand séance to destroy it.

The most powerful and cunning inhabitants of the City of the Hermits, the psionic monsters who had earned the title of "Elder" or "Bodith", did not survive this sudden disaster. Whether it's psionic energy or magic, there is no shortage of life-saving means for this level of spirit absorbing monsters.

The big "weird" creatures in sumptuous robes were furious, trying to figure out what had happened to the sacrificial grounds at the bottom of the city.

But their eyes were quickly dyed with madness, and they didn't seem to notice the huge black lotus that burned with a raging demon fire. In the eyes of every soul-sucking monster, there is only the most disgusting, hating, jealous, and most wishing to replace the guy in their "weird" life.

These powerful Spirit Sucking Monster Elders didn't seem to realize what danger they were in, and they all struck at the enemy in their eyes.

A tall and thin Spirit Sucker Elder, the pink octopus head suddenly swelled like a balloon, and then exploded into a pile of minced meat.

Another psionic monster in a jeweled robe raised its hand to cast a spell, but a huge mouth appeared out of thin air at its feet, devouring it without a trace.

There was also a body of water evaporating for no reason, and the body was instantly torn apart by the wind blade, and one of the most hateful spirit sucking monster elders, who couldn't even see its death, turned into a handful of white ash, and then even this handful of white ash was returned to nothingness by the violent force.

In the blink of an eye, the most powerful high-level forces in the City of the Recluse were all destroyed in the inexplicable internal friction.

Those soul-sucking monsters who died miserably but still left their bodies behind, their broken limbs fell like hailstones.

The drop of blue blood peculiar to the Dripping Spirit Sucking Monster splashed like rain, swirling around the Black Lotus Mandala, but it refused to fall to the ground.

A Mithril-like skeleton appeared in the demonic fire of the Black Lotus Mandala, reaching out a bony hand to tease the blue blood.

Its white and fleshless right leg bone is half coiled on the throne in the center of the mandala, the left leg bone is half hanging down the edge of the throne, and the foot bone is stepping on a half-amputated skull, like a pampered nobleman stepping on a velvet foot pad. There were two dim halos floating in the skeleton's eye sockets, and through those halos, one could vaguely see a chaotic wasteland, with corpses of various shapes and murder weapons of all kinds stacked on top of the wasteland in a disorderly manner.

Each corpse is trying to recreate the "famous scene" of their death, as if this has become their only reason for existence in this wasteland.

Each murder weapon, from the beautifully crafted poison needle ring to the tattered hemp rope, tries to find its former victim in order to match the corpses' performance.

In the heart of the wasteland, a blood-colored river meanders through it.

The waves of the river were surging and sounding, either weeping or howling angrily, and occasionally rolling up a few waves, which were also mixed with curses and foul language before people died, as if thousands of ghosts were trapped in the river of blood.

On the banks of the Haunted River, daggers, swords, poisons, gallows, burnings, and the like twisted together with countless corpses to form a blood-stained throne.

The rain of blood and the river of ghosts around the throne are the "business card" of the murder king Baal, and only those Baal priests who have participated in the highest level of the "Death Moon Feast" can witness this grand evil god majesty.

But in today's sacrifice, there is basically no real Baal priest: it is the octopus heads of the Hermit City who created the Black Lotus Mandala, and it is another uninvited guest who uses the Black Lotus Mandala to complete the séance, and even the sacrificial song that prays for the arrival of the evil god has been modified to be no different from the forced summoning incantation.

It's just that the city of the hermit, which is responsible for building the Black Lotus Mandala, is now full of spirit sucking monsters is not much different from being completely destroyed, only the archon Surak is barely alive - countless whiskers extend from under the black lotus mandala, entrenched on Surak's octopus head, and take root in the brain, using the huge spiritual power of this powerful spirit absorbing monster as the fertile soil for the Black Lotus.

Like the skeleton of the king's arrival, he didn't look at the spirit sucking monster elder who was used as the fertilizer of the throne by him, his jaw was slightly open, and a voice naturally came out of his empty mouth:

"Where are you, the nameless god who dares to invite the King of Murder to descend, and invite a god to look upon the mortal world, and should prepare a sacrifice that satisfies me!"

On the chessboard built by the World Tree, as a chess watcher who indiscriminately instructed the chess players to fall, Xia Yuan Taiyijun smiled and looked at the goddess who didn't like to wear clothes: "Barr came at my request, but in this dark region, I can only be regarded as an unwelcome outsider, so I cheekily ask you, the hostess, to do me a favor and welcome the murder king with me?"

The answer was Elisetsu's broad-bladed heavy sword covered with the glow of the silver moon: "The Sword of the Moon is happy to serve you. ”

(End of chapter)