The Rise of the Cemetery

Chapter 0243

The drow assassin crouching in the shadows quietly walked out of the hiding place.

The exquisite hand crossbow had disappeared, and was replaced by a flying fine gold dagger. The drow assassin slowly approached the wolf-shaped creature that was still twitching and struggling, while carefully observing the opponent's every move. The enemy's body has been severely injured, and he has also been poisoned by Drow's special poison. He should have lost the ability to resist, but the lingering sense of crisis in his heart still makes him palpitate.

His eyes quickly swept across the entire battlefield, everything seemed so normal, but with a little bit of creepy weirdness. What is wrong?

The drow assassin walked to the place where the Gorefiend lay prostrate, hesitated for a moment, and lifted his body with his toes, intending to confirm his life and death. But when the drow assassin glanced at the warrior standing on the side of the corner of his eye, his pupils constricted suddenly, realizing something was wrong.

What happened to the fighter?

It's a pity that just as this consciousness was born in his mind, the pain in his lower limbs interrupted the process of thinking. The provoked Gorefiend took advantage of the situation and jumped out. From the projection on the stone wall, it could be seen that the two of them were tightly bound together. In a near-face-to-face distance, any large body movements are futile, and the two equally swift figures are only left with instinctive thrusts.

Stab it, flip it, pull it out, plunge it again, stir it, pull it out...

As if they were in a silent competition, the two assassins were tightly entangled, like the closest lovers, embracing each other, using only one hand to keep rushing in and out of each other's body. With such a close distance, both sides lost the space to hide, completely risking their lives.

The Gorefiend doesn't dodge or dodge, and sometimes even actively uses his vital parts to meet the opponent's dagger, just to slow down the opponent's attack frequency. The drow assassin, on the other hand, spent at least half of his energy shaking his body, avoiding attacks on his vital parts with tiny shaking of his body. Therefore, in terms of attack speed and frequency, drow assassins are at an absolute disadvantage.

The sound of the blade stabbing the flesh, the sound of heavy breathing, and the sound of blood splattering are intertwined, and the figure shakes in the dark and cold underground passage, outlining a strange and alternative picture.

Gradually, the voice began to decrease, and the two embracing figures projected on the ground had stopped any body movements. A thin figure was about to slip, but was supported by another figure standing firmly, and there was a sucking sound in the passage that made people's teeth sour.

It was only when the Gorefiend stepped out of the shadows that the drow assassin's body crashed to the ground. The weak cold light illuminated the body that fell on the ground. The drow assassin's face was as pale as a dead man who had just climbed out of a coffin. There were countless wounds on his chest and abdomen that were dry and wrinkled, but there was no blood seeping out.

The drow warrior was still standing still, his dark face was distorted with extreme horror, his left hand was tightly pressing on his chest, his right hand was hanging down weakly, his stiff fingers held the long sword, but he was no longer able to swing it out. His fatal wound was on his heart, and the sharp claws of the Gorefiend gently pierced his heart through the gap in the chain armor. This was already an irreparable injury, but the real cause of his death was extreme fear.

When he tried his best to block the small wound on his heart, tensed his muscles and stood still waiting for his companion's rescue, he watched closely the whole process of his companion being brutally killed and sucked blood, so the extreme fear overwhelmed the already overwhelmed The heart expanded and agitated again, and it took away his few vitality in an instant.

With a light snap of his fingers, the drow warrior's tightly gripped chest bounced violently, and a blood arrow shot out from the wound, and fell straight into the mouth of the blood demon. For such a low-grade blood food, the blood demon no longer disdains to eat and suck like a beast, but just like an orthodox and elegant blood nobleman, he only takes some blood from his heart to try something new.

The many cuts on the Gorefiend's upright body were slowly healing. Wherever he passed, all the blood that hadn't dried up on the floor would bounce up to his feet and sink into the white robe covering his body. When all the wounds on Gorefiend's body disappeared, the broken white robe on his body was as good as new.

And in the shadows on one side of the corridor, the first drow assassin who was attacked was leaning halfway on the stone wall, with a black and dry blood arrow stuck in his throat. He was actually attacked to death by the blood arrows spurted from his own mouth. This novel way of death can probably be recorded in the annals of history.

The Gorefiend turned around and glanced at the passage he had come from. His blood-colored eyes radiated a breathtaking light in the shadows. When the light faded, he was gone from the passage.

Almost at the moment when the Gorefiend disappeared, a translucent shadow sneaked into the tunnel. The latecomers did not approach this flesh and blood slaughterhouse recklessly, but crouched in the shadow on one side and silently looked at everything here.

After the silent signal was issued, there were chaotic footsteps in the passageway from the shadows, and five tall or short, thick or thin figures appeared around the corner. The translucent shadow also stepped out of the darkness, and led the new men to carefully examine the corpses in the arena.

Judging from the attire, this group of people is obviously the small group that the Gorefiend met in the tavern.

As soon as the kobold warlock, who was only around the waist of his companion, stepped into the battle ring, he rolled his eyes at the thick and choking blood, and his overly sensitive sense of smell became a great torment in this environment.

"Boss, did you see that Gnoll assassin?" Pulling out a cloth strip from his pocket to cover his mouth and nose, the kobold warlock breathed a sigh of relief, and asked curiously to the man who was rummaging through several corpses. leader.

"Yeah, boss, did you find any clues about that guy? I've long been displeased with that kid, so I'll take this opportunity to fix him up." A big, muscular goblin bear kept moving his thick fingers. , a posture eager to try.

"You two shut up! Take a good look at the situation here. Are you trying to make trouble for the head?" A more stable tauren frowned and scolded them, then turned to look at the busy thief: "The head , Didn’t that guy do it? Our front and rear feet, this is a little bit more effort, he can kill so many people?”

The thief hidden in the thick cloak jumped briskly between the flesh and blood, checked it as fast as possible, and then returned to his companions, his voice was unprecedentedly deep and dignified.

"Rud, don't even think about provoking that guy. You can't afford him, not even our team."

The five companions were terrified, and even the stupidest goblin bear could hear the unconcealable tremor from the leader's words. Kobold warlock Rude looked around the battlefield again, but didn't see anything unusual. As a wandering mercenary living underground, he has seen all kinds of bloody scenes. Such killing scenes can only be regarded as pediatrics, and he doesn't understand why the head has to warn himself so solemnly.

It was the steady tauren who kicked the corpse of the drow assassin with the most tragic death, which attracted everyone's attention.

"Where's the blood?" Kobold warlock Rude suddenly jumped up, loudly yelling out the sudden suspicion in his heart.

Given the numerous wounds on this drow assassin's body, he should be the one bleeding most violently, but around his lying body, there are spots of dark brown blood stains that don't match his injuries.

The amount of blood is wrong!

There was a sudden chill in the hearts of the team members. The Gnoll assassin they were chasing turned out to be a vampire, which was a bit beyond everyone's expectations.

Soon, another drow assassin from the shadows was also brought out. Seeing the coagulated blood arrow stuck in his throat, everyone's hearts became heavier.

"He can also manipulate blood to attack." The thief leader said very little, but every sentence is worth chewing and savoring. The dual identities of vampire + assassin are enough to cause headaches. If you can still control blood, is there still a way for melee professionals to survive?

The kobold warlock Rude couldn't help but breathe heavily. When he thought of the pair of red pupils staring at him coldly, he couldn't help shivering, feeling that the cloth robe on his body couldn't resist the cold underground. . Although it is also a level 7 spellcaster, it is best at casting a few limited innate spells such as "Bloodthirst", "Fireball", and "Invisibility", and has no talent at all in spell manipulation. If he really encountered such a cold-blooded assassin, he would probably have to lie on the floor.

I thought that relying on the help of my companions, I could put the guy who was full of malice towards me in a dark corner, but who would have thought that the guy was an unprecedented man-eating giant crocodile, and the cowardice in the kobold's nature immediately took over Rude again. chest. It couldn't help secretly looking at the surrounding terrain, and began to figure out which route would be the fastest and safest to escape.

"Don't think about running away." The thief's eyes under the hood were cold and fierce, and he could see through the kobold's careful thinking at a glance: "We don't mess with him, and he probably won't take the initiative to provoke us either. After all, we are allies now !"

ally? ...

Half an hour ago, this word was still a shitty fart that made them snort, but now it can bring them some false warmth. At least until the "Black Tide" mercenary group is defeated, the word "ally" is still very useful!

After temporarily calming down the members of the team, the thieves looked at the deep and dark corridor ahead with a bit of indescribable solemnity. The other party has drifted away, and there is no living thing on the scene, but he still has a strange feeling of nostalgia in his heart, as if something is watching them. After a long time, the thief waved his hand and led everyone on a different path.

When the corridor returned to dead silence again, not far from where the thieves team stood just now, a pool of blood that hadn't dried up on the ground twisted and twisted for a while, gathering into the shape of an eye. This real "Blood Eye" scanned the field, finally focused on the direction where the thieves team was leaving, and blinked suspiciously. The "Blood Eye" didn't last long, and as the energy in the blood was completely exhausted, it finally disintegrated and weathered, leaving not even the last remnant.