The sky was gloomy.
The rain fell on the pitch-black ground, and when it splashed again, it took on a dark red light, just like cold rain that fell to the sky, but turned into fire rain when it splashed.
The shroud-wrapped corpses were all over the place, the beasts of the Lady of the Night were tamely lying on the ground, their heads rolled not far away, and blood gurgled from their cavities—the ground was full of blood. , but ordinary people may not see it. The blood was so viscous that the puddles could not be washed away by the torrential rain, and it only spread out irregular outlines in all directions.
As for the big guy wielding a hammer...
Alas, his process of breaking into pieces was too brief and too crisp. If you are willing to pick up the soil and distinguish it, maybe you can find a little bone residue
This level of cruelty is rare even in the dark world.
The half-human, half-bird Madame Pomfiler flapped her wings to escape the terrifying dark rain, but just as she flapped her wings to fly, an elegant voice sounded in her ears.
"Madam, are you not with them?"
A gentle wind brushed Madame Pomfiler's cheek, and the next moment her head fell from the air.
The last monk in black shivered, looking at the devil standing in the dark, he forgot that he had already betrayed his faith, and lit the cross on his chest: "Impossible, you... you are... "
"Shh."
The devil put his pale and slender index finger to his lips and resumed his grinning look. The black monk would rather be judged by those in the Holy See than see him confirm his words.
"Careful, Mr. Friar. Now is not the time to say that name."
The black monk groaned and turned to ashes.
"Sorry, time is limited, so I have to ask everyone to sleep in the ground."
The devil bowed to the wreckage in a similar manner.
A little scarlet fell erratically from mid-air.
"what."
The devil raised his head, and his mood suddenly turned bad again.
"These damn guys, they almost destroyed my rose!"
He stuck the red rose on his chest, maybe a piece fell off when he was just sending Madame Pomfiler on the road. The devil stretched out his pale hand and caught the rose petals that fell from the sky.
The petals are scarlet in color, as if soaked in blood.
The devil gently squeezed the petal and took it into his mouth, and the rose turned into real blood in his mouth... This was the drop of blood that dripped from his majesty's fingertips at that time, and it turned into real blood. The rose in the devil's clothes. The devil sighed.
He snapped his fingers.
The black flames ignited silently in the rain, burning the corpses all over the place.
The devil turned and looked in the direction the king had left.
He likes such stormy nights so much.
This is the perfect time for all the blood, all the viciousness, all the betrayal and death.
"Now." His tone became lighter, "My dear majesty, please let me pick up your beautiful soul."
Since it is to pick up his dear majesty, it is natural to have a pomp worthy of your majesty's noble status. This makes the devil a little embarrassed... He has never paid much attention to these things. He has obtained too many things by disgraceful means, but he has not used them much. After thinking for a moment, the devil clapped his hands.
A lake of fire and sulfur appeared on the ground.
The rain fell into the boiling lake of fire, instantly filled with a vast white air. The lake of fire tumbled, and the lava splashed onto the surrounding land, which quickly charred black... Something slowly rose from it.
It's a carriage.
With a low neigh, the one pulling the carriage was a nightmare shrouded in a gray fog. After the nightmares walked out of the lake of fire, the lake filled with sulfur gradually shrank.
In the end there was only a carriage on the ground that only the most insane patient could imagine a scale and half a claw.
Sen Ran, I don't know what kind of beast's spine forms the four corner pillars of the carriage. The exquisite bone wings of bats and ferrets spread out the magnificent carriage walls in a wonderful way, the thin snake skeletons are coiled around the windows, and the blue fire spreads in the holes of those snake skulls, like small blue Rose. The wheels of the carriage were inlaid with four huge skulls. Bright lava tears flowed from the hollow eye sockets of the skulls, but the skulls gave the impression that they were clearly smiling.
This white-boned carriage was eerie, terrifying, and yet had the most wicked artistic beauty.
The nightmares hissed lowly, as if accusing the devil of forgetting them too long.
The devil was lazy most of the time, and it had been hundreds of years since he last summoned the bone carriage.
"This is to greet the most noble of His Majesty. Be decent, little ones."
The devil protests.
The devil looked at the carriage for a while, and walked around the carriage. He stretched out his hand and brushed over the hideous and beautiful bones, so the leavesless rose branches wrapped around the bones like vines. On that thorn, a blossoming scarlet rose bloomed.
The devil is finally satisfied with the carriage.
He drove the white-boned carriage into the heavy rainy night.
The skull turned with the wheel, and the sulfur under the skull's eye sockets dripped down, little by little, meandering away in the darkness, and then gradually dissipating.
Nightmare pulls the bone-wagon through the swamp where a battle has just taken place.
One by one, the black armored souls rose from the swamp. The white skeletons on the wheels opened their jaws, and those souls were sucked in like smoke. When there were no more souls to swallow, the upper jaw and lower jaw of the skeleton collided, making a terrifying sound.
Like joy, like dissatisfaction.
"OK OK."
The devil comforted lightly.
"The prelude will begin, and you will have more food."
Night Owl screamed.
…
The wind stopped, but the torrential rain continued, as if it would never end.
The king marched in the rain with his sworn knights.
Despite the success of luring the Grundian cavalry into the swamp, the king paid the price—only six of his loyal sworn knights remained. Except for the king, everyone else was more or less injured.
The state of the group was terrible.
This late September rain came at an untimely time, it was as cold as snow but loud.
The torrential rain poured on the body, even if there was armor, it would still flow down through the cracks, making people feel that they were actually immersed in the ice cave. In battle, intense sports can teach people to temporarily forget the cold. But the battle was over, and the cold became more and more deadly under the exhaustion.
The knights of the oath were frozen with blue lips, not to mention the king who had no armor.
The king's silver hair, wet from the rain, stuck to his face, and his face was horribly pale, but his lips were abnormally red, almost coquettish.
The king pursed his lips tightly and said nothing.
The sworn knights thought he was angry at tonight's assassination, but only he knew what was going on... He had to hold the reins tightly, with the help of the stirrups, so that he wouldn't fall down on the horse's back. The rainstorm was cold, and he was hot and cold, with a damn headache like a tarsal maggot.
If they don't rush to a warm place to rest as soon as possible, I am afraid that these people will not have a good end.
Disease was a more formidable enemy in this age than the cavalry of Cyrus. A cold rain, a high temperature, will easily kill people's lives.
A young sworn knight acted as a scout, walking slightly ahead. However, on such a rainy night, he could not be too far away from the king and the others. The use of reconnaissance can only be prayed for God's blessing.
The Lord is above, they can't stand the second wave of attacks.
Suddenly, the oath knight saw a warm fire lit in front of him.
He was startled suddenly, reined in the reins, and slashed his long sword.
However, soon, the young sworn knight felt a little relieved.
Because of the torrential rain, the light of the torches was shaky, not big, and only vaguely illuminated a rough shadow. A lone knight stands in the rain on horseback, his hair prominent in the firelight.
The sworn knight recognized him.
That was the owner of Tru City, Baron Sheehan with brilliant blond hair.
The oath knight drove forward cautiously, and the long sword still maintained a vigilant attitude: "For the glory of Rose?"
"For Rose's glory."
The blond Baron Sheehan replied, bowing down on horseback, humbly.
"The torrential rain came suddenly. I was worried about any damage to Your Majesty and the ministers, so I came here to greet you."
The sworn knight breathed a sigh of relief.
The negotiating embassies followed His Majesty's order to go directly to Seln, and from there they set off back to the palace. It is normal for Tru Castle not to know what just happened. And as long as it is a noble who has the brain and wants to climb up, seeing the heavy rain tonight, he will go out of the city to show his affection to the king.
"That's good."
sworn knight said. He was shot by the heavy cavalry on the shoulder, and the wound saw fragments of bone armor embedded in the flesh, and it was almost impossible to hold it.
"Your Majesty is ahead."
The oath knight put down his sword and gave no warning signal. He was panting tiredly.
The blond baron straightened up with a faint smile.
It's raining heavily.
Baron Sheehan remembered the day when the king came, the most gorgeous rose cultivated by the most luxurious and dreamy court... The rose that brought death and corruption to Legrand.
He smiled, roses will always fade, only Legrand is eternal.
The oath knight turned around and saw the king and other knights appearing in his field of vision. He smiled happily and waved to the king and them.
The king raised his eyes, and the next moment his expression changed.
"Get out of the way!"
he shouted.
At the same time as the vowed knight waved, Baron Sheen also raised his hand high and waved it down.
A dozen longbowmen jumped up from the dead grass.