Civilization: Beyond Two Worlds

Severe pain swept through the master's body.

The magician's heart froze.

This knife is accurate and exquisite.

In an instant, Lacleth's eyes suddenly widened and bulged, and there was boundless fear on his face.

Can't speak, can't move.

He couldn't even shout for help, and he didn't have the strength to activate the magic equipment he was wearing. This was the place where the magic-forbidden realm of Sacred Seal Island was shrouded in, and his powerful and terrifying mana couldn't be used.

Besides... even if there is no Forbidden Demon Realm, I am afraid that he will not be able to mobilize mana after this knife.

The appearance of elves is similar to that of human beings, but they are actually quite different, especially the caster, whose mana is rotated and mobilized, forming a new system in the body that is different from the blood circulation, which means that even if a qualified caster can't move his entire body, There are also ways to fight back against the enemy.

But this knife is incomparably ingenious, and it hits the key point, the key point of the elves.

Not only did it make him unable to speak, it didn't just make him unable to move, it even blocked the flow of mana, and even interfered with the cohesion of the spiritual bundle...

Only assassins who specifically target elven spellcasters have such a skill.

After discovering this, the fear in Lacles' heart swelled to the extreme, and this fear even overwhelmed the fear of death... He almost immediately guessed the identity of the assassin.

Not a human being, absolutely not a human being, how could a mere human being be qualified to master that kind of skill.

Just...why?

What did i do wrong?

Why...why did Her Majesty's Shadowblade troops attack me?

Shouldn't I touch the taboos of the Sacred Seal?

The footsteps of death are approaching, the vitality is rapidly dissipating, and the long life is about to come to an end. At this moment, even the elves with longer lifespan will have mixed feelings, not to mention that this is not the end of life.

The fear of death, the reluctance to part with life, the arcane path that has just started, the veil of the Sacred Seal that has not been uncovered, endless regrets, and doubts.

But the mage is still the mage, and the elves are still the elves.

Death is not so scary, the one to be feared is dying with ignorance and confusion.

At the last moment, Master Lacles raised his last life and will, tried his best to break through the limits of his body, and turned his head slowly. He wanted to see the assassin's appearance, at least to solve one doubt.

If the other party is also an elf, he will understand his thoughts and will not stop him from turning his head.

Sure enough it didn't stop.

The other side allowed him to turn his head.

Otherwise, with a single turn of the dagger, his life would be immediately deprived.

Master Lacles turned his head with difficulty.

The assassin showed him what he looked like.

A bird flew over his shoulder, turned its head, and crossed his gaze.

The parrot, given to him by Sir Taizer, is said to be a parrot from the Isle of Saint Indies, which looks majestic and beautiful, and should have appeared in the bedroom of some elven lady, not this murder scene.

But Lacles knew that this was the assassin who took his life.

Because the other party was obviously a bird, but he stared at him calmly with deep eyes that made his heart tremble.

The master's eyes became even more confused.

How is this going?

He opened his mouth slowly, the trickle of blood was slowly pouring out, and the handsome face was full of struggle and unwillingness. He wanted to speak, but he couldn't say a word. His eyes became more and more painful, and his expression became more and more hideous.

Suddenly, the parrot spoke.

It was an ancient Elvish language that was older and nobler than the present-day lingua franca, understood only by scholars, great nobles, and royalty, and which happened to be understood by Lacleth.

The parrot's words are low and smooth, and the words spoken are like a poem.

"Sprouted from the forest, nurtured by arrogance, watered by tears, buried by conceit, sleep in peace, son of nature, this is where you sleep forever."

Master Lacles's eyes fluctuated violently. He understood this sentence and thought of something. Even in the last lesson of his life, most of his vitality had been lost, but his body was still shaking violently and struggling. , spit out a big mouthful of blood.

"You...you are..."

The voice was hoarse, as if tearing the soul. With extreme shock and disbelief, the wizard's magister fell to the ground and completely lost his voice.

The dagger found from the Sacred Seal Island was stuck behind his back.

The blood slowly spread out from under him.

The parrot flew up when he fell to the ground, then landed on his corpse, lowered his head and stared at the other's corpse, and was silent for a while, not knowing whether it was reminiscing or praying.

Then it pulled out the dagger, grabbed the opponent's clothes with its claws, fluttered its wings, and turned the body over, from the ring to the necklace, from the headgear to the amulet, and searched the whole body, and the small pieces were linked with necklaces and hung on the On his body, he put a large one in a box in the room, and his movements were much more skilled than Miss Fran.

After doing all this, he flew to the magic table again, opened the fixed and reinforced cabinet, observed for a moment, took out a few bottles and jars from it, blended it on the magic table, and made it. The product was placed under Lacris.

It seemed to feel uneasy again, and it tore off a piece of cloth from the master's clothes, kneaded it into a ball, dipped it in blood, and wrote a Chinese character for "risk" on the back of the elf.

Then it locked the hatch, exited through the narrow window, and closed the window.

A case of killing elves in a secret room was completed.

The parrot flew to the captain's room immediately, opened the window, and got in.

The captain has a great life. At this moment, he and Sir Taize are going to search for the "Ancient Ruins". There is a attendant in the captain's room. Hearing the sound, he turned his head and saw a parrot coming in through the window, and couldn't help but startled.

The parrot leaped like an eagle and ripped open his throat with one paw.

Blood splattered, and the entourage fell to the ground, his throat gurgling.

Parrot let go of the spray of blood, and looked around the layout of the captain's cabin. His eyes lingered on the chests and weapon racks for a while, and he knew what to do.

It finds the ship's roster from the bookcase to the left of the captain's room.

The Wing of Wayne is an elf capital ship. The crew on board are all pure blood elves. The regular army in the regular army will never randomly recruit a strong man from the cell bar or even the street to become a sailor. Every crew member has undergone professional training. Good, high morale, all with military memberships.

What a great news.

The parrot grabbed the thick roster and carried it to the captain's desk. It stood in front of the roster, raised one paw, and turned the soft pages, which recorded the life of every crew member, starting with the captain. information, and very realistic portraits.

It went through page by page.

I have been reading all the officer-level crew information.

Then it spread its wings and started talking.

This time, it was not the obscure ancient Elvish language, but a sentence of Chinese.

"I bloom in the slaughter, like a flower in the dawn."

It rattled and flew out of the captain's room.

At the same time, the elves led by the captain and Ser Taizer had arrived at the mysterious rift.

Ser Taizer gestured, and the well-trained marines had dispersed, and under the command of Adjutant Myron, began to look for the commanding heights for vigilance.

The captain asked, "Are you sure it's here?"

Sir Taizer nodded and said, "You can't be wrong. There is still the aftertaste of flame and light in the air...and even a little smell of sulfur."

The captain's expression suddenly changed: "...Purgatory?"

Sir Tazer's eyes fell on the rift: "I don't know... but I know that everything is related to this rift. I feel an uneasy breath, and the Goethe has gone down."

He pointed to the edge of the rift: "There are many traces of climbing tools here."

The captain narrowed his eyes: "But there is no guard here... Are you hiding? Are the Goethes still down there? Could this be a trap?"

Sir Taizer asked, "What do you mean? Excuse me, if I were you, I would camp here and be on guard. If any Goethe dares to come forward, shoot one to death."

The captain smiled bitterly and said, "But the master will definitely be furious."

"Yeah...sometimes it's hard for us to understand what a spellcaster is thinking." The Marine Corps complained, and then said, "But don't be rash, that's my position...please make up your mind."

"I…"

The captain hadn't spoken yet, when suddenly, a loud noise came from the rift.

The strong and heavy voice recited emotionally.

Chanting a language that the elves do not understand.

"This... a language I've never heard of before!" The elves looked at each other, "Also, this kind of sound will never come from the mouth of ordinary creatures!"

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PS1: The first one...the second one is a little later, everyone go to bed first.