Even to the discerning eyes of the instructor of the Martial Arts Tower in Morsobre, the young dark elf was a very good and sophisticated scout. He leaned quietly against a stone wall, choosing a position that didn't exert too much effort and didn't expose himself to the sight of others. He was going to spend more than a dozen hours in this inconspicuous abandoned stalagmite house, and he had to make sure that his muscles didn't stiffen from the long lurk. After all, none of the scouts under Rose could guarantee that they would be able to escape from the greetings of their peers' magic daggers and quenched spider darts when their bodies were stiff and numb.

Mo Yun's black cloak emitted icy fluctuations, which distorted the heat sources around him into a realistic illusion, obscuring the anomalous temperature phenomenon of the place where he was hiding, which was enough to deceive any intelligent creature with night vision. Of course, this by no means includes his people, an apprentice who has just graduated from the Warlock Academy is enough to break through the tricks on his cloak with a simple spell, and the masters of the big families can pull him out of hiding with their instincts alone.

However, they will never want to capture Moyun Wellen, the scout of the Dayette Mercenary Regiment.

To survive like a spider, this is the teaching after Chaos.

Weave deadly webs like spiders, wait patiently like spiders, and take the lives of their prey as quietly as spiders.

It is also necessary to know how to avoid the malicious gaze when watching the temptation at the edge of the cobweb, and to dive gently into the darkness along the sticky silk at the right time.

The darkness, which even the drow's night vision cannot see, is the scout's best friend, however, even the inhabitants of the dark regions cannot completely escape the presence of light.

A faint red light flashed through the mushroom grove that surrounded the Deaver family's manor, and flashed in the scout's eyes.

It was supposed to be a metal token with a blazing spell attached to it, a signal for the Duden family to attack.

The point of light shook three times in a row, enough for any of the most clumsy soldiers of the Deaver family to notice what was really going on outside the Fourth Family's mushroom forest.

However, not a single soldier of the noble Fourth Ruling House foolishly showed a willingness to fight, and even when the Duden family drove their ogre slaves into the spell traps that filled the mushroom groves and courtyards, no spider dart from the Deaver family welcomed the Duden family's private soldiers.

A new unit was engaged in the demolition of the rear fortifications of the Devore family. The leader is a handsome and slightly weak male mage, who is the father-in-waiting of the Duden family, Ruisen. He commanded some of the apprentices who had just graduated from the Warlock Academy and the civilian mages who could not rise to the master rank in their lifetime to chant incantations, and one deadly lightning bolt after another and strong acid arrows were summoned, flashing, cannon fodder goblins and orcs dying wails, and the crisp sound of exquisite sculptures shattering began to envelop every corner of this noble courtyard.

Eventually, a vague gray shadow fell from the sky above the Deaver family pillar onto the balcony of the central pillar, and the two Deaver guards tried to stop the dangerous figure who had invaded the heart of the Deaver family with the help of the wind elemental, but they went to meet Rose in a breath.

Mo Yun recognized that figure, the Duden family was the strongest, no, the strongest martial arts chief in Sobrai City, Zaknavan of the whole Demon Sobre City. The haughty and mighty warrior was about to infiltrate the Spider Sanctuary of House Deaver and use his deadly Adamantite swords to engage in a friendly exchange with the great Gina Fey Mistress, and none of the Deaver family could stand in his way.

There is no doubt that the Deaver family is finished.

Silently spitting out the words with his lips, the short-haired scout shrunk back and changed to a more comfortable position to watch the play.

However, it ended hastily before it arrived.

A powerful incantation burst rapidly through the central pillar, accompanied by the desperate screams of the priestesses, matching the Diver family's demise to the most appropriate aria.

It's time to finish.

With a strange feeling of contentment, yet incomparably empty and unhappy, the young scout reminded himself. He stood up silently against the wall, and left the dilapidated mushroom grove and stalagmite abandoned house behind the Devo family courtyard like a shadow that melted into the darkness, and also left the scene of the massacre that was about to begin at the Duden family.

Death isn't that hard to swallow, whether it's having your throat cut with a dagger or being cut off by a spell, it's a natural way to die. If possible, Mo Yun would also be happy to greet the incomparably noble throat of a nobleman or priestess with his beloved dagger.

But it was disgusting to indulge the filthy bears, goblins, and ogres to abuse and kill the children of the high-ranking housemothers who were not even twenty years old.

Even though Moyun was a drow wanderer from humble beginnings, he still had the luxury of hoping that when the time came for a natural death, it would be a sword from Drow that would kill him, not a bear goblin, an ogre, or some other filthy thing.

From shadow to shadow, Mo Yun moved cautiously and silently, his black plain cloak allowing him to easily dodge his kindred's dark vision that caught the sensation of heat, and the scout's skillful stealth skills were enough to confuse the overly sensitive hearing of most seasoned warriors.

As he usually moved in the shadows, Mo Yun occasionally paused and took a closer look at the civilian soldiers who were hurrying through the streets. It was still full of authentic Drow-style deception and betrayal, with almost as many petty tricks as the Mistress intrigues, but few Drow civilians died from such deception and betrayal, unless he was foolish enough to hang a purete sword permanently blessed by powerful spells on his belt.

Mo Yun likes to watch these innocuous little tricks, and sometimes quietly intervenes in them, consciously or unconsciously patching those clumsy tricks to perfection, and then quietly disappears into the shadows before the victim Drow can react.

It's definitely a good lesson for those who don't have a lot of brains.

And seeing a Zhuoer tear off the mask called "reserved" and reveal a ruined face is also a good life concoction for Mo Yun hidden in the dark.

Moyun Verren is the best of Morsobre, if not the best scout among the Drow Elves, and no Drow can easily catch him, just as no one can easily catch the XCOM Spider.

Goddess Rose maybe.

Today, however, he didn't want to see those stupid tricks anymore, he just wanted to get to where he was going as quickly as possible, and report the news that was not at all rare to the drow who should know about it, maybe it was the arrogant wandering priest Leki, or maybe the gloomy and untalkative psionic Kim-Murray.

The destruction of the fourth-placed Deaver by the 10th-ranked Dudden family means that the Dayette mercenaries will have a new business to do, the lower-ranked housemothers will be delighted to find that their family ranks have improved, the awesome eight ruling families will look at the ambitious Duden family with headaches and choose an alliance or a noble conspiracy to please the Queen, and even the civilian soldiers who have surrendered will rejoice that Rose is here, they have saved their lives and saved their next chance to surrender and climb up. All the drow of Morsobra were satisfied, and who cared about the inexplicable boredom in the chest of a drow scout who stood in the shadows forever?

Almost subconsciously, he kicked away a stone at his feet. A rat scurried out of the place where the stone had landed, looking around in disbelief with its small red eyes, its nose fluttering, but the scout's black cloak cut off any possibility of smell.

Finally, the pesky little creature relented and prepared to make its way through the alleyway to a stalagmite house suitable for it to visit, and the moment it bent down, a dull needle pierced its spine with unmistakable accuracy.

Mo Yun watched in silence at the rat's tiny body twitching, the thick gray fur almost perfectly concealing the thin needle, but the rodent's dying spasms reminded the scout of what was happening in the cursed mushroom forest.

Hiding in the shadows is the rule of scouts, but as the drow proverb goes, "darkness is both friend and foe", and the darkness brings a sense of security and an unpredictable weight of oppression.

Mo Yun stared at the dead rat quietly, calculating the time when the toxin on the fine needle had completely attacked. The poison concocted by the ronin priest was full of drow's characteristic evil taste, and when it dissolved into the blood of living beings, it turned into a corrosive acid, and when the blood of an unlucky ghost was transformed into a high concentration of acid all over the body, the mage Leckie, who was also a priest of Rose, would undoubtedly receive a new bone specimen.

The needle was not at all suitable for a scout who was active in Morsoblay, as it was so poisonous and effective...... Significantly overdone. If it is aimed at an underground dwarf city or a grey dwarf fortress, this poison potion can undoubtedly bring maximum panic and chaos to the enemy, enough to please the goddess who is entrenched in the spider web of the abyss. However, if you use this potion in Morsoblay without permission, there will be no second possibility except to expose yourself.

A pungent acidic gas began to emerge from under the rat's fur, and Mo Yun frowned in disgust, trying his best to imagine that the corpse being dissolved by the strong acid was not a rat, but a priestess with a snake's head on her waist.

This assumption made him feel a little better, but this little self-consolation was soon interrupted by the slightest sound of whirling.

Mo Yun almost instinctively took a half step back, allowing himself to better position himself in the darkness, while pressing his ear against the stone wall.

The sound of the clumping and grinding of gears was all too familiar to him, and many wealthy families would create this kind of escape passage with the characteristics of the gray dwarves under the family courtyard. Despite the discrimination of the Grey Dwarves in Drow society, they are natural burrowers who are experts in the profession. Even the most demanding mistresses will have a certain respect for these tunnel-building experts: allowing their bones to stay with their last masterpiece forever.

The scout listened quietly to the rusty rust of the gears that came through the depths of the rock. This is the inevitable tragedy of the old family secret passage, and because of the lapse of time, these mechanisms and trapdoors often have some minor problems. As far as he knew, at least double-digit survivors had died in the tunnels because of the rusty mechanism.

At such a time, Ms. Doom will never open any back door to the noble drow woman because of gender issues.

However, the survivors of the Deaver family seemed lucky, as Mo Yun heard two barely noticeable footsteps coming from behind the rocks.

The lightweight, soft boots tanned in the finest Lowes hides made barely a sound on the rocks, but a slight collision between metal and leather allowed the scout to know exactly who the two Deaver survivors were.

Rose's priestess, the drow priestess with that iconic serpent's whip.

The scout unconsciously raised his left hand, the black steel bracer would not shine a little even under the light of the demon fire, even if a master of the Warlock Academy used the Eagle Eye technique to carefully observe this ordinary bracer, he would ignore the seemingly decorative ferocious lizard head on it.

Only Mo Yun himself and his regimental leader knew that the ferocious lizard's slightly wide mouth contained a small mechanism: a delicate miniature crossbow and a venomous needle that was forever attached to the bracket of the machine.

The blood acid poison needle that the ronin priest Leckey is most proud of.

A slightly rapid gasp came from the depths of the stone wall, and a hoarse female accent: "You must get out of here at once and go to the house of Obroza!

The voice sounded like a grinding wheel scraping rock, as if her throat had been slashed countless times by a blunt blade, but with an unmistakable momentum.

"Husky singer" Liaudi Buddha, Mo Yun remembered, the pearl of the Di Fo family, even the wax melting demon was intoxicated by the hymn of the queen of God she sang. So, during a fairly ordinary priesthood test, she drank a cup of holy wine that was so poisonous that even the high priests could not completely heal the permanent damage caused by this toxin. Few Drow knew who was more pleasant when they saw the former little princess of the Deaver family drinking the poisoned wine, the eldest daughter of the Devo family and the maid of the spider god who watched all this.

As she viciously cursed the Duden mistress, the Drow girl, who had once had the most beautiful singing voice, coughed violently, but even that did not stop her from spitting out the foul language that most of Drow would find unacceptable.

"Vomis," said the hoarse priestess after taking a deep breath to ease the discomfort in her throat, "go outside and see if those slave troops of the Duden family are wandering around here......?

However, she was answered by a vague and precise prayer: "All glory be after chaos!"

From the depths of the stone wall came the screech of arrows tearing through the air, and the hoarse screams of Lyorfo mixed with shattered praise of the spider goddess.

The only sound of the snake's whip and the dagger clashing was the sound of the serpent's whip and the dagger clashing. In the brief sound of fighting, a terrible scream belonging to a woman rang out abruptly, and Mo Yun was sure that he heard the sound of the snake's head whip tearing through the drow's trachea, and the sound of the body of the defeated falling on the stone steps.

"Stupid civilian!" "Lyorda's angry voice hissed from the depths ......of the stone wall, "the Queen of God favors me!"

Her voice was lowered, and she could only hear the complex abyssal language used by the demons of the lower realms beginning to echo in a low voice. Most of the Drow priestesses have the ability to use blasphemy, but how can she change the situation in front of her? Mo Yun drew the short sword at his waist and thought with some malice.

Soon the answer was revealed, and a standard Drow priestess slowly walked out of the secret passage, wearing a priestly burqa adorned with the crest of the Dividor family, and a serpent's head whip around her waist, but her eyes were dull, and even through the wide robes, her chest could be seen to have strangely collapsed.

However, in the eyes of the bear goblin or ogre, this is a living drow priestess.

Amazing strategy, out of five, I give it four.

Moving slowly in the shadows, the scout lipsed.

Until he moved to the entrance of the secret passage and raised his left hand, Mo Yun was still amazed by this ingenious trick.

Good night, princess of the Devo family.

......

.........

The courtyards of each family in Morsoblay are carved with ornate and eerie ornaments of cobwebs and spiders, and statues of various abyssal demons decorate the residences of the nobles, and the pale demon fire burns on them, forming a red light in Drow's eyes.

Not even the patrols of Morsoblay wandering over the parapet and the suspension bridge noticed that some young dark elf who had been forever hidden in the shadows was gently slipping under the tip of their noses.

As his cochantly steady boots stepped on the soft moss on the floor of the hidden tunnel, and prepared to wait for the mercenary members who came to connect, a pair of black high boots greatly disrupted the peace that made Mo Yun feel at ease in this stone cave.

"Good morning, my cunning little spider. ”

Hearing this greeting, Mo Yun unconsciously stiffened his body and suppressed his instinct to pull out his short sword and make a retreat defensive posture. Most of the time, he didn't like to be too close to the other drows, but the owner of the voice was an exception.

He sighed imperceptibly as the powerful hand removed the hood of his cloak and ruffled his short hair.

"Remove your hat, the brim is almost touching my eyes, Captain. ”

"No, I can't find a better feather hat in Morsoblay City. As if to be a showman, the one-eyed drow in front of him straightened the Tsushima birdfeather wide-brimmed hat with one hand, which was so gorgeous that it was almost incompatible with the drow man, and continued to rub the scout's short hair indiscriminately, "I thought you were used to it. ”

Staring at the handsome Zhuoer in front of him, who always had an elegant and mocking smile on his face, Mo Yun decided to once again ignore his almost nouveau riche gorgeous taste, and dryly reported the information he brought: "The Devo family is finished, but even if the Duden family turns the secret passage of the Devo family upside down, they can't find the last missing Liorfo. ”

This information did not interest the mercenary leader who preferred the wide-brimmed top hat at all, and the drow, who always seemed to be smiling nonchalantly, moved his gaze to the scout's black steel bracers: "It seems that my little spider can't help but participate in the hunt of the Duden family. ”

Mo Yun didn't answer such obvious questions, but just writhed impatiently in the affectionate embrace of the mercenary leader.

"Mistress Gina Fei is not very clever, and if she lets her son leave there, perhaps the Deaver family will have a witness left. ”

According to Drow's law of hypocrisy, if the top ruling family is dissatisfied with the war between the lower families, the "witness" is the means of the final revival of the defeated family. However, in the long underground history of the Drow Elves, it seems that no family has been able to reclaim their place in such a plausible way.

Offering his final condolences to the Deaver family, who "never existed" according to Morsoblay law, the mercenary leader reached out and raised the scout's chin as if he were looking at his favorite magic gem.

"Well done, my little spider, maybe I should go talk to Mistress Mareth about the price of the survivors of House Devo. ”

He spoke, half-jokingly, half-earnestly, but his gaze shifted from the scout's expressionless face to the young Drow's right hand.

In the scout's right hand lay a carnelian pendant, not much larger than an arrowhead, and he moved it to the mercenary leader and gave a brief explanation: "Necklace of Lyordifo." ”

The mercenary leader only glanced at the red gem that was full of milky white flocculent impurities inside, and made an accurate assessment: "Except for the defensive magic attached to it, both the workmanship and the carnelian itself are very poor. A noble woman actually wears such inferior surface goods, and no housewife will believe it. ”

He picked up the carnelian set in the silver ring from Mo Yun's hand, and looked at the mist-like white floc that covered the inside of the gem, which was a testament to the powerful constant protection spell that worked on this pendant

When the cold silver ring touched the young Drow's forehead, the scout didn't understand what his boss, who was accustomed to hiding the city from behind smiles and bravado, wanted to do. But the mercenary leader had disappeared to the other side of the stone chamber, and only his farewell words echoed in the hidden cavern with the sound of his black boots stepping on the rocks.

"My little spider, happy joining the group. ”

None of the members of the Dayette Mercenary Regiment could fully comprehend their leader's seemingly whimsical tricks, and neither could the young scouts. The mercenary leader can keep his lieutenants, such as the arrogant and almost constructed psionic Kimmurio Broza, busy for a trivial matter, or he can dance on the spider silk called "speculation" in the most ruthless and dangerous political feud between the Morsobrai families.

The Dayet mercenaries need their leader of the mercenaries to disguise their humility and hide their betrayal with integrity, and only he can weave a web for the male outcasts to prey on in the dangerous city of Morsoblay, and they will therefore offer him their strength and unreliable loyalty, just as the vicious priestesses have to do with their more vicious mad goddesses.

I've been well aware of this fact since the day you picked it up from the alleys of Skull Harbor, and the scout held the carnelian pendant that was now hanging around his neck, looking in the direction of Drow's departure, and habitually muttering with his lips. Yet a word escaped uncontrollably from his mouth, like a sigh as water droplets fell to the ground in a tunnel:

"Uenhe. (Drow, liar)"

The hem of the cloak swayed slightly, and the icy aura began to devour little by little the traces of heat that had been left in the cavern due to the scout's body temperature. Mo Yun pulled up his hood and plunged himself into the shadows of the shadows of the dark realm once more, except for the pile of bones in the corner, which had been corroded by strong acid and left behind by unknown creatures, no one of Drow could find anything of value in this inconspicuous little tunnel.

......

.........

Mosoblay, the city of the unrelated.

The holy land beloved by the Queen of Chaos and the Poisonous Spider, the Drow City that most meticulously implements the will of the Queen of the Spider. For thousands of years, many of the most artistically talented priests, shamans, and craftsmen have religiously carved this space of stalagmites and stalactites with intertwined canine teeth to please this noble lady.

After praising the Spider God, the current city of Morsobrai is an elegant and forever pale demon fire

Spider Nest.

Yes, carefully discerning the lavish gilte gates of each family, the demonic fire of each shop, and even the humble stone signs, the eight-legged arthropods and their delicate fabrics of death are eternal themes.

By the time he stepped out of the shadows, young Drow had already donned a dark gray mask of Los's hide. The silver cobweb-like pattern on the masquerade spreads wantonly, obscuring his delicate face.

This cobweb mask is the most popular among the many works of the Drow craftsmen in Morsoblay City. As they walked through the Nabondlai district, a garden of mushrooms where the drow enjoyed luxury and pleasure, this subtle ornament undoubtedly brought out the mysterious temperament of a handsome drow.

Apparently, the priestesses, who had just graduated from the Spider Academy, loved this little trick designed to please them. Just as they love to experience the joy of opening a gift box at the annual Morsobre Festival, with the help of a trap detection spell.

Even the most incomprehensible housewives must admit that a little proper cover-up can arouse women's curiosity and desire to conquer.

As the proverb goes, the best gem is always the one in the Mithril box, isn't it?

However, compared to the delicate masquerade of the young drow from a civilian background, who used precious stone powder and mythril filament to outline intricate patterns, the drow youth's masquerade is extremely ordinary and unremarkable.

Even with the use of a mask to hide his true face, the attentive Drow could still see that the young dark elf was different: he did not wear a long and supple bunch of hair into a slender braid to mark his social status in Morsoblay, as the sons of wealthy commoner families do. On the contrary, this young drow has a slightly messy silver-white straight stiff hair, and the simple and monotonous hairstyle indicates that he does not belong to any family, not even any civilian family, he belongs only to himself.

This is a drowning outcast.

Liars, thieves, scoundrels, and the most efficient murderers in the shadows roaming the edge of the web of Mosobra.

Of course, even the harshest of the harsh housewives of these drow tramps have to admit that these lowly criminals are irreplaceable in some ways. As a result, the ruling parliament, headed by the Banjo family, reluctantly ignored the existence of these displaced people.

The young outcast, with a cautious but reserved attitude, crossed Nabondel among the men from civilian families when the pillar was just set on fire by the Chief Mage. Most of the priestesses, regardless of her status, performed routine and essential offerings to the moody lady in their lavish shrines, and the high women called the "morning prayers."

Blessed as Toros, not a priest of the goddess and her expensive floater would appear in Nabondle at this moment. With a smile of unknown meaning, the young Drow walked past several Drow maidens from small families with the title of "Princess".

The latter looked at the handsome elf, who was plainly dressed and well-dressed, and even a particularly clueless-looking girl raised her long whip in her hand, trying to use her clumsy whip to sweep off the cobwebs on the homeless face.

But she was doomed to disappointment, and the moment she raised her hand, the drow had disappeared into the extravagant, winding, intricate streets of Nabondley, as if he had never appeared.

......

.........

Most of the properties on Nabondley Street belong to the core of those powerful families. However, there were also a handful of high mages who had mastered the magic of the Seven Rings or more, and the proud Drow priestess had to pay a certain amount of respect, especially allowing them to buy their own villas in the Nabondley neighborhood.

The priest's villa in the inverted stone stalactite, the interior is designed according to the Drow tradition as a spider web structure, full of deadly traps of the mage's research room, and an extremely luxurious and ** massage club...... Every nobleman did his best to embellish their estate in Nabondle, and the beautiful constant illusion projections and precious stones, as well as the intricate stonework and frescoes, were all very popular materials for decoration.

However, the highest decoration materials are: the leg bones of the shield dwarves and the heads of the drows' distant relatives on the surface.

Mosoblay does not encourage waste. The weak family is eager to transform all the soldiers killed into ghouls and zombies, and the Spider Church also has gossip that uses dead students as cooking ingredients. However, this common sense clearly does not apply on Nabondley Street.

As he stood in front of a low stalagmite entirely decorated with the bones of a surface race, he easily reached into the already dry and shrunken mouth of the skull, a deadly-looking elven female mummy by the door.

Where the tongue used to be, only a smooth copper pendant hangs.

The young Drow tugged at the pendant and whispered a word of unknown significance.

The voice of the elven woman's head on the surface sounded like water dripping on the stone stalactite: "Wait a moment." ”

Drow, wearing a spider web mask, stood quietly. He waited for the door to open the door of the skeleton that had a terrible taste than a certain outcast leader who was constantly pretending.

Be quiet, be patient, and wait, unless you want to have the most intimate contact with the enhanced arcane rays between the eye sockets or jaws of a skeleton that you don't know which one is hidden.

It wasn't until he walked into the bottomless passage that Drow noticed a rare stiffness in his legs.

Like most drow buildings, the skeleton fortress of Morsobre is filled with intricate, twisted passages like cobwebs, and arcane traps that can be activated at any moment.

He slowed his pace as far as he could, lowered his head slightly, and for the thirty-ninth time measured the distance of the passage with his feet, and counted the total number of traps along the way. Yes, this semi-public black market trading post has extremely complex labyrinthine passages, but for a qualified scout, gathering intelligence is a virtue.

Intelligence is also power, and it is a power no less than magic.

By the time he cautiously arrived at his destination, Drow, who had been in charge of receiving him, was already waiting impatiently.

"Be punctual, warrior. ”

Sitting behind a desk made from the bones of some giant creature, a drow mage with a hood covering his face said without the slightest emotion.

"I'm so sorry, Hidden Dharma. ”

The young Drow crossed his arms over his chest and bowed: "I'll pick up the goods I ordered before." ”

However, the mage did not stand up, he just folded his hands in front of his chest, his elbows outward, and this habitual movement belonging to the master of the Warlock Academy revealed an elegant arrogance:

"Report your manifest, warrior. ”

In the Dark Lands, there are some unwritten rules, which are generally referred to as "traditional" by the inhabitants of the underground. It is also an age-old tradition to verbally report a bill of goods when picking up a product: if a not-so-wise merchant underreports a shipment, then the goods are non-existent in the transaction, regardless of whether you have paid a deposit for it before.

To the mage's disappointment, however, a fluency of lists and numbers popped out of the young Drow's mouth, and the complex numbers and unit prices, as well as more complex commodity names, were maliciously arranged into a linguistic jumble of illogical logic. Even the unit of currency was deliberately modified, and one moment ago, the masked kid marked a dozen Activated Adamantite Spider Darts with a unit price of fifty carats of Crimson Tears Gems, followed by a bottle of Powerful Shield Potion for ten platinum coins, and then he marked a set of Mithril Bullet Parts with thirty carats of Broken Diamonds......

Potions, scrolls, enchanted items, and alchemy ingredients echoed smoothly in the cramped trading room, and the mage frowned as he quickly converted the other party's offer price as he considered whether to activate the Confusing Ring on his finger that could disrupt the victim's calculations.

However, an unexpected quote interrupted his thoughts:

"Ten bottles of will potions, thirty carats of red blood diamonds. ”

The mage made a "stop" gesture in displeasure.

"I don't have this in my transaction with your mercenary leader, warrior. He said coldly in Drow sign language.

"But the Dayette Mercenary Regiment needs it, Occult. The young Drow replied in sign language, with a humble attitude and no concession.

The mage muttered for a moment that the Will Potion wasn't a rare potion, but its presence in Morsobra had another meaning: was there a family that wanted to make a small move on the Obrozas, the Third Archon Family, who were many psychic sorcerers? Or were some families unhappy that the fat and short priestesses of the Eleventh House had succeeded in recruiting a Psiclist as an advisor? Or who wanted to replace the First Archon's Psionic advisor, Edin Wilwall?

When he looked up, these questions were no longer enough to bother the mage, for his hands made a complex gesture:

"Eight potions of will, forty carats of red blood diamonds. ”

......

.........

The gray-blue potion shines through the mushroom stopper of the bucket, giving off a sweet smell of bitterness.

The short-haired scout looked at the glass bottle in his hand and was a little disgusted. Exaggeratedly pulling out the mushroom stopper with great force, Mo Yun took a deep breath, held his breath, and poured a whole bottle of potion down.

The sweet, strangely astringent liquid trickled down his throat and burned like alcohol, and Drow choked on the strange smell and coughed.

“ssussan...... (The 'light' in the Drow Elf language is the most vicious curse of the same kind)" Cursing silently with his lips, Mo Yun finally checked the alarm trap in front of the hidden stone cave.

Nice, everything works fine.

Rubbing his sour eyes, he slowly sat down and fell into a half-asleep meditation.

A rock rat cautiously poked its head out of the crevice and sniffed its surroundings, a pair of big, funny ears fluttering. When it finally confirmed that there was no danger around, it recklessly tried to find a piece of Lothmon cheese in the room of the barren drow pariah.

However, the rock rat's movements were immediately stopped by an invisible force.

The invisible flames were born for no reason, and there was an almost imperceptible sword intent in the flames, turning the rock rat to the head of the owl.

The fur, flesh and bones of the rat quickly decomposed, until they turned into nothingness, and in the flames provoked, a man's voice slowly rose: "Entering the room with no thickness, this is the sword intent of Ku Ding to solve the cow, but compared to someone's sword intent of extinction, it is still not right." ”

The voice converged extremely quickly, and in the carnelian talisman hanging on Mo Yun's chest, a slightly confused voice came:

"Morsoblay is also one of the top cities in the disgusting city of the Spider Queen. After Ke Ruilong's cousin became a sadistic spider demon god, and then she played the game of the female slave society, Rose, you pathetic and hateful woman who disagrees with Ke Ruilong everywhere to vent her hatred. ”

"Oh, why do I know so much?"

"Wait, not blatantly mentioning her name in the city of the Queen of Spiders is tantamount to being a blasphemous person who has died to the point of actively asking her to perceive the blasphemy?"

"No, the presence of divine powers does not perceive the existence of an equal to them...... What's that, are you talking about me?"

"But who am I? Wei Ye? What does the name Wei Ye mean?"

"Ah, it's a headache to think about, why do I know so much knowledge that I don't have, and most of it seems super useless?"

"Why did I become this carnelian amulet? Could it be that I am the chosen one of Ogmar, the god of knowledge and the namer, and so I have been framed by evil spells such as the Demon Soul Pot, and have become such a ridiculous appearance?"

"No, the electorate is not comparable to the gods, and as the tentacles of the gods, normally speaking, where would the electorate fall into such a sad situation!"

"Ah, my head hurts, I don't care, I don't want to!"

"But I don't have a head anymore, so where does this piercing pain come from?"

asked one after another, and what I got was not only confused, but also confused.

In the end, the voice in the carnelian talisman gradually faded, but a sense of tranquility mixed with the intent of slaughter slowly surged out from the talisman, circulating around Mo Yun's body.

It was an extremely clever sword intent, but under the correction of the true intent of the Dao Gate, the original extinction intent that turned everything into a stubborn void no longer existed.

But for any creature living in the main material realm, these alienated sword intents are still the most terrifying existence. But under the appeasement of that breath of peace, the sword intent was like silk, and it penetrated little by little along the warp and weft lines of Mo Yun's shirt, shorts, and black cloak.

The original fabric structure was shattered by the sword intent, and then rearranged into the original form with a new structure that could inherit the sword intent. Not even the illusion attached to the black cloak was not destroyed.

This method is like a clumsy simulation of someone's subtle sword intent.

Even the young Drow Scout's flexible skin and tight muscles were also under the movement of this subtle sword intent, and the qi and blood became more and more abundant, and the physique also improved a lot.

Mo Yun seemed to have a dream, and in the dream, a terrifying light, a light that he had not seen even as a young man when he was wandering in the surface city, enveloped him.

The lights were indifferent, the lights seemed to be intimate, the indifferent and intimate lights cut through the rock formations, exposing the dark areas to the light.

It was as if a door had opened from that odious sun, and someone stood in it, and stretched out his hand to himself, to a drow pariah.

Mo Yun woke up from his dream.

In the oral tradition of some psykers, there is a very small chance that the psyker will come into contact with his future in deep meditation. But such a cursed future seemed so absurd that the young drow scout whispered an expletive, and then left the strange dream behind.

However, he soon found that his body seemed to be much stronger than before, which seemed to be a sign of the strengthening of the flesh before the psionic warrior was promoted. This made the nightmare-stricken Drow scout a little happier.

A little stronger, it means that you have a little more ability, and if you have ability, you have value, and then the possibility of surviving in Mosoblay City increases a little.

Even if this possibility only increased by less than one in 10,000, it would be something worthy of the joy of a drow pariah like Mo Yun.

But such a rare good mood was soon interrupted by the telepathy of Kim Murray Obroza.

The arrogant dark elves of the construct, a rare psionic master of this race. But it was difficult for Mo Yun to get anything useful from this suspicious drow elf, and even the meditation technique for the psyker was through the pressure of the mercenary leader Jalaso, and Jin Murray reluctantly told Mo Yun.

"There's an assassination mission from the ruling family to go to Waterdeep to assassinate a mouthy bard, and that filthy ground planted a blasphemous book about the queen of gods. ”

Mo Yun was accustomed to the moody ideas of the housewives of the ruling families of Mosoblay City, but the name of "Waterdeep" still made Mo Yun feel a kind of humiliation with his heart pinched.

Even though it was only a slight mental fluctuation, the psionic master Jin Murray immediately caught Mo Yun's weakness for a moment, and unceremoniously probed his spiritual hand deeper into Mo Yun's heart: "What's wrong? Don't you feel excited that you can go back to the place where you once lived?"

In this invisible war between psionics, the overwhelming power from the psionic master Jin Murui is equivalent to unilaterally abusing Mo Yun.

But today, in Mo Yun's spiritual world, there seems to be a seemingly weak but tenacious spiritual defense, making it impossible for Jin Murui's spirit to arbitrarily penetrate every corner of Mo Yun's spiritual world.

Finally, with some dissatisfaction, Kim Murray stopped this compulsory course that he had unilaterally stipulated, and returned to his original tone of business, suspicion and vigilance: "If you think that simply killing that ground plant, you will complete the task, you are very wrong. The mistress of the Solarin family, the fifth ruling family, wanted to use that ground seed to hold a ritual to please the gods. ”

In other words, Mo Yun must come to Waterwater, the surface capital of the city inhabited by legendary mages and blessed by the good gods, to kidnap a well-known bard, and then send the other party alive to the hands of the fifth family of Mosoblay City as a living sacrifice after the fifth family's mother sacrificed to the gods.

This is more of an impossible task for the average drow. But Jin Murui's spiritual power was still rubbing in Mo Yun's spiritual world with that strict and almost abusive attitude: "Go ahead, with the little tricks you learned in the city you planted on the ground, it should be easy to accomplish this goal." Remember, Mistress Solarim needs a living, healthy seed, not a dead man who can't please the gods!"

After a pause, the last message left by Kim Murray was cold and blunt: "Jalaso will agree with my judgment today." ”