Crimson Servant

Chapter 45 Freshmen
  The sharp thorns dug into the flesh, and any slight movement of the body was enough to intensify the tearing pain. There was a thin layer of sweat on John's forehead. He clenched his teeth and endured the pain while restraining his body movements. He fell to his knees obediently, becoming a prisoner a foot away from the bud.

Carl didn't understand this.

He knew that Saiman controlled the tree mother, the most powerful creature on the third level, and that John, whose companions were trapped, was at a disadvantage under the Druids' attack, but why did he lose? Say the kind of words that inspire Karl himself, say the kind of bright, great and righteous lines, isn't it time to turn the tide and fight back?
  Why did you lose? Losing so quickly?

Karl finally came to the conclusion: As a warlock, John is not good enough. Evil cannot suppress good, and a warlock is not righteous enough.

No one knows the paladin's psychological activities at this time.

Saiman didn't care at all what the Paladin thought. He saw all his enemies defeated and saw his own victory. Saiman controlled the tree wall in front of him to separate to both sides, and stepped out of the tree wall. He was obsessed with this sense of accomplishment of commanding nature.

His heartbeat was a little fast. Saiman coughed twice, beat his chest lightly, hunched his back and passed Jurgen with a cane. One by one, Saiman stepped over the tied personnel of the Sun Team and walked up to the Arcane Sun, opening his arms.

"I'm going to succeed."

The sound of Chuck's footsteps appeared behind the old man. Saiman turned his head and saw Chuck kneeling on one knee, kneeling silently towards him.

Saiman smiled, revealing his yellow-brown teeth. Aging has made his gums fragile. Saiman has not experienced the taste of eating for a long time.

But all this patience will be rewarded, and he will be reborn.

Saiman closed his mouth, suppressed his excitement, and stretched out his hand gently.

"Chuck, come to me."

The young druid raised his head and looked at his teacher with a puzzled expression.

Saiman smiled and helped Chuck up, holding his hand and facing the arcane sun in front of him. Magnificent magic flowed in front of their eyes, and Saiman could feel the young man's heartbeat speeding up, as excited as himself.

Saiman said softly: "Chuck, I treat you as my own, and accepting you as my disciple is the most correct action I think. You have helped me a lot, and the value of these help has already exceeded the value of my professor." Your knowledge. Now I will realize my ideal, and for you I have prepared a gift."

Saiman's eyes are sincere, like a loving father.

"I will share my new life with you, my student. Don't be surprised, this is something I have prepared for a long time. You have been with me for a long time, and your knowledge and skills have already reached the level of a master. Maybe you Young people don’t need to consider longevity for the time being, but trust me, you will always use it.”

"Consider this a rite of passage, Chuck."

The young druid was flattered. He lowered his head shyly, not letting the respected master see the joy in his eyes. It would be degrading to do that.

"Your orders are my creed, Master."

Saiman nodded with satisfaction.

"Close your eyes, Chuck, I have everything. Relax your body and feel it carefully."

Chuck did as he was told, Saiman's old palm still held his hand, and he could feel the heavy power in it.

So peaceful.

Seeing Chuck close his eyes, a look of madness immediately appeared in Saiman's eyes. He raised the staff embedded with blood gems and chanted a spell to transform the entire staff. The main body of the wood is stretched and elongated, spiraling around the gemstone, turning into a spear with a sharp tip.

Saiman stabbed Chuck through the chest with his spear.

Blood dyed the twisted branches red, and young life dripped onto the gorgeous gems. Chuck let out a painful cry, and he tried to avoid it, but Saiman's palm grabbed him tightly like sharp eagle claws, and the terrible power was draining his life.

Despair froze on Chuck's face, his facial features were bleeding, and his last eyes were full of confusion. At the last moment when the light dissipated, his eyes were still his respected teacher, Saiman.

The young man's palm dropped weakly, and Saiman let go of his hand. He was still smiling, reached out to stroke his beloved disciple's hair, and said softly to him: "Your young life is a necessity for my new life. My child, I am too old. I need your blood and your flesh to complete my life." Ritual to reverse aging.”

"We will share a new life, Chuck, and your life will belong to me."

The blood spear has drained the life of the druid. Flowers bloomed on its edge and branches sprouted. Under Saiman's increasingly high-pitched chant, the branches pierced into Saiman's body and separated the old man from the roots of the tree mother. connected together.    Saeman, got a new life.

"You! What did you do! Saiman!!!"

Jurgen's eyes widened and he looked at the constantly deforming creature in front of him in disbelief. The effectiveness of the undead potion was receding from the dwarf's body, and unspeakable sadness and anger completely occupied the dwarf.

"That's your student! He loves you, anyone can see it! How can you be so cold-blooded!"

The wrinkled skin gradually fell off. Saiman stretched his arms, and his strong arms cracked the rickety shell. He tore off the dead skin on his chest, just like taking off an ill-fitting piece of clothing. The tall and tall body and the strong and tight muscles made Jurgen feel familiar and strange at the same time. Saiman's new skin is light green, and wood-textured nails grow on his exposed body. Branches grow from the side of the ears to both sides. Within a few seconds, they grow into a crown of horns wider than an elk.

Saiman smiled as he returned to his youth.

"We sow and we reap. Isn't this in line with Druid teachings? Father."

"I didn't teach you this!"

"This is what nature taught me." Saiman opened his palm, and a spiral wooden thorn grew from the ground, becoming his new staff. Although it has similar specifications to the original, now Saiman's hand looks more like a piece of wood. Toy.

Jurgen is right, young Saiman is very similar to Karl, physically.

Jurgen, who was tied to the ground by plants, looked up at Saiman with difficulty. The dwarf felt that the pressure of the plants that tied him was even stronger. Saiman was returning to his peak period.

"You secretly learned the sealed forbidden scriptures, those evil spells created by the Shadow Druid."

Saiman shrugged, squatted down, and looked down at the dwarf who was gradually being swallowed by the earth.

"Those spells must have been preserved for their purpose, survival of the fittest, father. The Great Druid of the Woodland sealed the taboo instead of destroying it, which in itself shows the value of the taboo. You are really an old antique."

"No, the elders left the forbidden scriptures as a warning. To remind the druids who have gone astray, what kind of darkness they will face! You are too contemptuous of tradition, Saiman."

Saiman opened his hands, and his magic naturally guided the growth of the plants, and a jungle grew in the blink of an eye, a jungle under his control.

"Of course I will despise it, father. I have become a stronger being, a life that tradition cannot create."

"I'll save you for last, Father. You know I like to eat the best food last."

Saiman hummed a tune, his eyes roaming back and forth among the members of the Sun Team, and finally he locked on John. Warlock caused far more trouble to Saiman than others, and he decided to kill this young man who repeatedly caused him uneasiness. Saiman has a special intuition. He has a premonition that letting John continue to live will bring him danger, great danger.

Without any hesitation, Saiman twisted the long staff in his hand into a javelin. Throw it with all your strength towards the unable to move Warlock.

The druid's powerful physique turned the wooden gun into a murderous weapon. Saiman had no doubt that he could kill the fragile warlock with one blow.

If his attack is not blocked.

The javelin pierced the flesh, one after another.

The sharp tip of the gun stopped ten centimeters away from John's head. John looked at the protectors who used their bodies to block the attack for him, with a strange and horrified expression on his face.

There are four people protecting him.

Four figures in red robes were strung into gourds by Saiman's spear.

That's right, it was four dead Wiltis cultists who protected John.

In other words, they are the living corpses of four cultists.

(End of this chapter)