Ride and Cut

Since discovering that strange changes have taken place in Dracula, Lord Lord is really puzzled.

"Hiss~" The old white tiger couldn't help taking a breath, covering his heart with a look overly frightened.

He had the impression that Dracula should be a strong and good man-fast swordsman, horse riding, school bow drawn, enemies killed, head chopped off, and drunk alcohol. But in front of him, he was clearly an indistinguishable beauty. His skin was as fine as fat, his curly hair gleamed like gold, and his pupils were as pure as ruby ​​blood. Unspeakable evil, endless handsome.

Looking closely at the facial features, it is not difficult to see the shadows of the past, so Buckland would recognize Dracula's younger sister. But the overall temperament change is far more than earth-shaking. Just like Thutmose, even though it looks like a dragon, it always makes people suspect that it is a goblin disguise.

"You, you,... did you practice some weird fighting spirit?" Annie was drinking cow's milk and choked into her throat. She coughed and coughed for a long time before she reluctantly said.

In the legend of the elves, there was an official of the ancient elven royal court who just practiced vindictively and found problems, and turned himself into a woman alive. Nowadays, there are some non-mainstream groups trying to reproduce this legend, but for the time being, no one has ever heard of success.

"No." Richard said the matter as it was, emphatically introducing Dracula's heart injury and replacing the Destiny Magic Stone. He felt that the problem was in the Destiny Magic Stone in all likelihood, but he couldn't figure it out.

"The Destiny Magic Stone shouldn't have this effect, at best it can turn him into a blood knight." Lord Lord smiled bitterly, "And the elder, you touch his forehead."

Buckland put his hand on Dracula's forehead and exclaimed in surprise: "It's so low!"

As a naturalist, Lao Baihu also dabbled in medicine. Although Dracula's forehead was not as cold as ice, his body temperature was significantly lower than the normal range, and it should have been hypothermic long ago. This body temperature will only belong to a corpse that hasn't been completely cold after death, and should never appear on a living person.

"But I didn't feel any discomfort." Dracula's voice also became very delicate, melancholic and deep, which is in line with the most sought-after San Jose aristocratic style today, "On the contrary, strength and reaction. Compared with before, it has improved significantly."

He reached out and picked up a dinner plate on the tabletop, barely noticeable force, thumb and index finger like cracking biscuits, easily breaking off pieces of broken pottery.

"How does it compare to your adults?" Buckland asked curiously.

"That...that's almost." Since Dracula took off the mask, there was no expression on his face, like a piece of eternal ice, which was extremely cold. At this moment, he even squatted twice with a look of lingering fear, but he showed a bit of vitality.

"Is there anything unusual?" Annie was curious, and the change in the other's appearance made the little girl very envious. The half-elf's skin is also very delicate, and the whiteness is enough to make human girls jealous to death. However, compared with the color of Dracula's almost pure white marble, it still looked yellow.

"I'm afraid of light. To be precise, it's the sun. The moon and candles don't matter."

"Moreover, the appetite is very small, but you won't be hungry at all. Sometimes it doesn't matter if you don't eat for a few days."

"I'm going to sleep endlessly. A few times I slept for a whole day. If someone told me to feel like I could go back to sleep."

Every time Dracula said one, the faces of everyone present became more solemn, all of which sounded too weird and completely contrary to common sense.

"And I've done experiments." Richard knocked on the table to make everyone look at him, exploding the most powerful material, "Dracula will be hurt by holy water now!"

"Hiss~" There was a sound of air-conditioning.

Holy water will never cause harm to pure flesh and blood life, so being able to be hurt by holy water is enough to prove that Dracula is no longer a pure flesh and blood life.

"Fear of the sun, fear of the holy water... How does it sound a bit like an undead?" Buckland said in hindsight.

"Yes." Richard nodded with a wry smile. Of course he had discovered this a long time ago.

"But I'm clearly still alive." Dracula pressed his heart, closed his eyes and felt the incomparably reassuring ups and downs with touch. A constant, powerful, and steady heartbeat, although surprisingly low in frequency, is at least real.

There was an embarrassing silence, everyone exchanged strange eyes, and no one spoke for a long time.

"I found that as long as there is something with the undead, everything is more evil." Lord Lord scratched his scalp. The many abnormalities he encountered during this trip left him clueless now. It was like a mist covering the truth, no matter how hard he tried to widen his eyes, he still couldn't see through it completely. This feeling made him very uncomfortable.

"Furthermore, you can't grab your tongue when fighting the undead. Even if you win, you won't get much intelligence in the end."

"Actually, it may not be impossible..." The old white tiger ran over the soft beard on his chin, thoughtfully.

"Are you talking about torturing the walking dead?" Richard nodded pretendingly, "Well, I have to consider using a soldering iron or a whip."

It is well known that the self-consciousness of most undead is close to nothing, similar to a stone or a tree branch. Expecting to get information by torturing the undead is as boring as expecting a stone to speak. Annie and Lord Lord looked at each other and giggled at the same time. They both thought this joke was very interesting.

But Buckland didn't smile, he looked up at Richard, "I mean, why don't you ask Thutmose?"

"Even if he is not the soul that dominates the undead dragon, at least he has witnessed the whole process as a bystander. Have you asked him?"

"Right!" Richard patted the table as if waking up from a big dream.

Thutmose is the soul of the second head that the Golden Dragon is brewing. As a flower blooming on the same branch, there is a natural soul bond between him and the main soul, and knowledge and knowledge should be shared!

Thinking inertia is like a piece of window paper, once it is broken, it can no longer cause obstacles, so Thutmose becomes the focus again.

"Say it!" Gunther, who had been immersed in eating and muffled, finally ate his fill, and slapped the table fiercely. Then he turned his head to look at Richard, flattering: "Boss, what do you want him to say?"

"Why did you become an undead? Why did the residents of Winter City become an undead? Why did the undead never show enough strength to destroy the defenders?"

Richard did not rush to ask three questions.

"Yes, say it quickly." Gunther picked up a toothpick, picking the shreds of meat between his teeth. Looking at Thutmose, it was like looking at a dish.

The dragon soul wandered restlessly in the crystal, opening his mouth several times but closing it again. In the end, he didn't say a word, and was silent as dumb.

Richard raised his eyebrows in surprise.

For a fragile ghost like Thutmose, the little soul power possessed by it cannot circulate steadily. Life should be as short as a floating life and death, leaving no trace even after it dissipates.

But Thutmose was lucky, he was the soul of a dragon, and that dragon left the dragon crystal after it died.

Whether the dragon's origin in the dragon crystal can sustain human life is hard to say, but from any angle, it fits Thutmose too well. Relying on Long Jing, he can not only survive, but even continue to grow. So for him, Long Jing is directly related to life and death.

Richard didn't even bother, as long as he exposed the dragon crystal to the noon sun, Thutmose would undoubtedly die, and he would have no power to fight back.

According to his limited understanding of Thutmose, this guy may have died once, and thus feared eternally sinking into darkness. If every life in the world has its own specialties, then the speciality of this product is that it is particularly afraid of death.

So Lord Lord pointed to the east, he didn't dare to go west; Lord Lord hit the dog... This really didn't help. Nehru's fireball technique was no different from the Sun, and it was fatal.

Thutmose, who was so afraid of death, would actually have a secret that he would not want to say, which was really surprising.

"Is it something that makes you terribly scared?" Richard and Buckland looked at each other, and they both saw each other's worries.

No matter how afraid of death Thutmose, he is also a dragon soul. The vision and insight of the dragon will not weaken with the weakening of power.

"Actually..." Thutmose hesitated for a long time, and finally looked up at Richard and said slowly: "In fact, there is only one answer to your three questions, and that is the'Book of the Dead'."

It is not difficult to tell from the tone of voice that the word ~www.readwn.com~ Book of the Dead has an extremely heavy weight in his mind, and he needs to make determination just to say it.

it is a pity--

"What is the book of the dead." A half-elf girl who only wants to make money in business, knows nothing about it, and is still sipping sweet milk.

"A magic book that records one hundred and ninety kinds of undead spells." Richard had a rare opportunity to show off his knowledge, and naturally he would not let it go.

"Spellbook of the Undead?" Annie put down the cup and said angrily: "The empire is not going to attack the makers. The expensive taxes paid by the merchants must have been wasted in vain."

"They wanted very much, but they couldn't." Lord Lord rolled his eyes.

"Why?" You can tell from Annie's expression, she must still be distressed by that little tax.

"Because of the limited level of magic, there is no way to travel back through time and space to sanction the Titans." Richard said quietly.