Dawn of the Grey Tower

"Why do you keep up? I already told you that you have no talent for learning magic." The blurry figure on the carriage hangs down its legs leisurely, watching itself struggling to follow behind the carriage. "Ha ... ha ..." A heavy breathing, the hypoxic brain can't even determine the specific scene in front of him, and his eyes can only see a large blurred spot, which feels like a random paint plate. The outstretched hand desperately wants to grab the trousers of the man in the carriage, as long as it can be caught, it can ...

"Hoo!" The curse suddenly sat up from the haystack. He rubbed his head slightly dizzy when he woke up suddenly and looked at the surrounding scene. The large stone bricks constitute the walls of the room, but the beautiful stones have obvious cracks, obviously after a strong impact. It is an oil lamp that is responsible for lighting. The oil in the lamp is running out. The yellow flames are struggling and do not want to go out so easily. In addition to this, the space that was so small that it could only accommodate two adults was left with the haystack lying on the spellcaster.

The sound of "squeaky" door bolt turning, while the oil lamp was extinguished, another light came in from outside the door. "How's the situation?" Curse asked, lowering his head, not looking at the people coming in. "Are you awake? Scared me a big jump." Lin said, clutching her chest, kneeling on the ground and pouring some oil into the extinguished oil lamp. "How is it going?" The wizard repeated his question. "There is still some kerosene. Just now the Grand Duke sent a few more cans, and the amount of food is still a lot ..."

"I'm not talking about this." Curse took Lin's wrist and looked directly at the other person's eyes. "How many people are left?" The former maid apparently felt the fear of the wizard's rude behavior. She wanted to draw her hand out, but did not expect that the power of the curse was much greater than she thought. Tears began to whirl in Lin's eyes, and the spellcaster who noticed it had no pity at all. His eyes were gloomy and sharp, as if to pierce the human skin, and look directly at the soul wrapped in flesh and blood. "And ... there are less than three hundred people ... whine ..." Tears finally shed like a dike. Lin whimpered to say the desperate status quo, put down the oil lamp in her hand, and began to sob in a low voice.

"Hoo ... is that true." Curse cried and released a cold breath when he heard the answer he wanted, and took a deep breath. He briefly glanced at his clothes, and after confirming that there was nothing wrong, he stood up from the haystack, and the tall shadow of the man covered Lin completely under the oil lamp. "Where is the dwarf?" He asked, raising her chin after Lynn didn't answer. "It's not time to cry now. Tell me, where is the dwarf?"

"Woo ... Yes, in the front tunnel, Grand Duke and Mr. Lyon are strengthening the defense line." Lin desperately stopped crying and said to the curse crow. The spellcaster nodded, crossed her body, and walked out of the door. "Us, will we be all right?" The girl asked with a trembling voice behind her, the fear in it coming out. The man stopped and turned to look at her. "You are a dead lady, you know this better than me." After that, he disappeared at the corner of the corridor. Leaving Lin buried her face in her knees and helplessly twitched her shoulders. Curse Crow was right. Of the survivors of Molten Iron City, who is quite tonight, she knows best. The ability to report the death of the banshee is like the most vicious curse, so that this kind girl is deeply in pain. At first, Lin can also smile and go to the survivors and send them quiet and peaceful blessings. But more and more deceased people, more and more despair, the disappearance of too much life gradually made her desperate, and the eyes of those who were not willing to die looked like nails through her fragile heart and released Negative emotions. And the only person she could rely on at this time, the mantra, was very indifferent after the molten iron city collapsed. Lynn did not know that this was a side effect of the conjurer's full thought, she only felt the cold.

Everything has a price, just like the cheese ignores the outside world when it is focused, the curse crow's concentration is the ultimate calm. In this state, he can temporarily forget the fear of death and put all his energy into Solve the problem. Under such circumstances, the conjurer walked in the dark tunnel, and the small rooms on both sides could hear the cry of the dying and the wailing of the living from time to time. He stepped over the warm body under his feet, over the poor man whose direction could not be separated because of grief, the tunnel in front gradually became brighter, and gradually became noisier. The scent diffused in the air stimulated people's nose, the smell of blood.

"Hold it! Boys! Fight back those **** mice!" Without the bearskin cloak, even the headband was wearing a crooked heavy hammer during the battle. Grand Duke waved his signature warhammer, in wooden boxes and debris Shouted behind the line of defense. He had blood on his face, some were his own, and some belonged to the rat-man who had his head blown out by the warhammer. "Come on! You hairy monsters! Come on! Try the dwarf's hammer!" Andrew's state of hyperactivity is abnormal, his skin glowing with a pale blood red due to excitement, and experienced warriors will know this is A very dangerous state, anger that exceeds the limit will bring fatal danger while bringing strength.

"Buckham, protect the Grand Duke! Come here with two people!" Lyon, with a long sword in his hand, beheaded the squirrel who flew up cleanly, his brow furrowed, but the calmness of the words showed Different mental states from dwarves. Of course, the Blood Lion also wants to give everything to anger, let the most primitive forces lead himself to fight, and then die. But that won't work. The rules of the knight constrain him to fight to protect the people in the passage behind him. He can't let go so easily.

"Understood!" One long and one short, two silver scimitars have been worn out due to excessive killing ~ www.ltnovel.com ~ Even if it is a sword forged by the elves, its blade is also due to too much killing Roll up. A blood-stained bandage was attached to Bakum ’s face, covering his blind eyes. The appearance of this young elf ’s mantle was no longer seen in elegance. He was like a wounded beast, to all enemies who dared to approach Reach out your fangs.

"Give up, elf boy! The dwarf doesn't need elf protection!" Andrew yelled when he found someone standing in front of him, but his muscles were twitched uncontrollably due to excessive fatigue, sweat, and let the dwarf's The skin appears more rosy. "You have to rest!" Buckham said, and a turn turned the squirrel to try to overturn the bunker and thrust a long knife into its abdomen. "You have been fighting for too long, and even the dwarves will feel tired." The young knight pulled out his weapon, but was scratched on the shoulder by another enemy. Buckham knocked down his enemies with a short knife's handle, and the long knife opened his hairy throat without hesitation.

"Gah! Gah!" A large number of crows rang from behind the defenders, and countless black shadows crossed them into the horde queue. The red-eyed crows with sharp bird beaks attacked weak parts such as the eyes and ears of the ratmen as if they had lost their minds. Their noisy sounds deeply disturbed the animalists who were extremely sensitive to the sound.

"It seems that our wizard is finally awake." The dwarf leaned on his warhammer and turned to look at the curse that was coming here. ...

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