"Vance, are you sure you haven't misunderstood?" A cheerful male voice echoed back from the crystal, "I looked at the image carefully, and there is no alienation in Nemo Wright."
"Dara Lennion, imagination."
"I only admit what I've seen."
"I know it's nothing to suppress the Seymour worm with momentum, but he suppressed Pandora."
"His demon also left a piece of flesh and blood attached to the bird, not like a powerful character. Do you have a record there?"
"No, I checked, and it really wasn't introduced by the 'butcher shop'. It should be an accidental summoning, and the type has not been determined yet."
"What are you going to do?"
"Continue watching the play." The man called Vance responded calmly.
"It's a bad person. To be honest, I'm not very interested in Wright - anyway, his body will be taken up after his wish is fulfilled. It is the key to find out the identity of the demon as soon as possible."
"That's where it gets interesting, Della. I don't get a sense of the contract from him. His contract should have been done long ago."
"That is to say, it's not Wright, but a demon who has successfully obtained a body? It's such an incredible ability to disguise, even I didn't notice it... If there is no sign of alienation, it makes sense. An out-of-rule superior demon, tsk tsk . To maintain the original plan to bring him back to 'education'? Before he decides where he stands."
"He is indeed a demon warlock, not a superior demon."
"evidence?"
"intuition."
"… Whatever you want, let me know the results. Also, don't call me Della."
The communication crystal went out, and Vance raised his eyebrows at it, continuing to watch the fight not far from the cliff with gusto.
Those who set the rules in the Mercenary Guild may never have imagined that there would still be demon warlocks focused on escape in this world.
Demon believers can only be counted as madmen who are in trouble with ordinary demons and have no bottom line. They are still purely human in nature. Demon Warlocks are completely different. Usually, they are top-notch mages before contracting with higher-level demons. Even if they are not, they must have excellent spellcaster qualifications. The alienation brought by the superior demons will magnify the negative emotions in them, literally distorting the soul and body, turning the contractor into a paranoid and crazy monster.
They either show their strength to push back the enemy or surrender at the beginning, or they fight bloody to the end, and they never do such a cowardly and worthless thing as escaping when they are finished.
It's a pity that Mr. Wright does not even accept his identity as a demon believer. The big figures of the demon warlock and the mercenary guild are basically equal to the deceased celebrities in the history books to him - it is impossible to contact in this life, let alone understand them. Undercurrents and under-the-counter rules.
He escaped decisively, without hesitation, and with a clear conscience.
Strictly speaking, he didn't escape by himself - Nemo hung on Oliver's shoulders like a sack, controlling the pile of shadows in a panic. His neck was sore, and he didn't dare to blink. The ghost knows why the shadow shield, which is only used to intercept spells, suddenly has a restraining effect. At this time, Nemo has no intention to go into it. He has more serious problems to deal with.
He couldn't command Sombra as he wanted.
They are as difficult to maneuver as a slippery dinner plate that is stacked high—three points depend on instinct and seven points depend on providence, and if you’re not careful, you can get out of control. For example, now, when he tried to reach out and turn his palms, the black shadow boiled violently in an instant, and the smoke column was directly pushed out a few bends, and the shape changed from a magnificent tornado to a trumpet buckled on the ground.
Nemo: "… "
He really didn't know whether it was due to the opponent's subjective will or the power of the shadow, he only knew that the noise-like noise became more harsh. The effect of this random tossing was not ideal, and Pandoratel did not keep up, and was still twisting in place. And the metal block on his chest was getting hotter and hotter, and it had begun to show signs of melting.
Nemo slapped Oliver on the back with his free hand, signaling him to put himself down.
Oliver did as he did, and he stopped and let go of his right arm, which was still dripping with blood from the drooping left.
"It didn't mean to catch up... Are you okay, bandage it?" Nemo looked at the bloody arm carefully, hissing and gasping.
Oliver moved his left arm: "... It looks scary, but it's just a flesh wound."
"You have to find a better sword." Nemo turned back to the direction of the smoke column and tried various gestures indiscriminately. "What the hell happened to it?"
"I don't know, but it doesn't look like I'm going to fight you one-on-one." Oliver pulled out the bandages from Nemo's backpack and simply stopped the bleeding for himself. "At least it didn't fall apart again, nicely done."
"Don't compliment me." Nemo's hands were shaking nervously, and the dark figure in the distance twisted to and fro. "To be honest, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing right now."
The next second his heart sank. It turned out that Oliver Ramon had better keep his mouth shut during the fight if he could - the plume of smoke stopped twisting and began to drift slowly, no matter how hard he tried to stop it. Unlike the powerful, purposeful dispersion before, the smoke clumps rustled like dead autumn leaves.
He turned his head to look at Oliver, his eyes filled with condemnation and grievance involuntarily. Oliver crossed his index fingers before his lips and blinked.
A scorpion-tailed wolf suddenly swept past them, heading straight in the direction of the smoke column.
It's not the only one. The pale bone crows flew in flocks, the poisonous insects fluttered their wings, and the forest began to riot. The teams of demons and beasts ran past them one after another, bypassing the wave-like ice layer and rushing towards Pandoratel, and the raised dust was close to a sandstorm. Amazingly, not a single demon or beast tried to attack them at the moment, and being trampled became a more realistic danger. Oliver reacted quickly - he slammed his arms around Nemo, quickly turned around and pointed, thick ice shields stood beside them, and the bandage on his left arm was red with blood again.
The siren rang through the mercenary guild headquarters.
The demonology mages were sweating coldly on their foreheads, and they surrounded the black cubes in the underground hall—the huge cube stood quietly in the center of the hall, and the criss-crossing magic circles and runes on it all turned into bright red with shimmering light. color. The pre-arranged warning sound is broadcast in a loop, and there is no intention to stop.
"Pandoratel's power is rapidly declining, what's going on!"
"I don't know. The magic pressure around it is too strong, and the surveillance bug can't stay."
"It's self-destructing!"
"Are you confused?! It's still a juvenile!"
The power of the superior demon resides in the body, and some species will feed part of the body to their offspring or injured companions, thereby conferring power. Pandoratel is one of the more extreme types - when the number of the group is too low, the oldest one in the group will only self-destruct, allowing its companions to share the corpse to tide over the difficulties.
"It's really self-destructing, and all the metrics are up to—"
"God, get it back first!"
The head of the old man, whose beard and hair were all white, grabbed his long beard amid the chatter. "What about mood monitoring?"
In an instant, the voice of discussion was much lower. Being stuffed into a dark and narrow box will not make any life happy. The emotional value of this Pandoratel has never changed, and it has been very stable at the lowest point. Over the years, everyone has been habitually ignoring that value.
"It... it's..." The mage closest to the emotion monitoring circle swallowed and stammered. "By human standards, it was laughing wildly."
It was a joy full of resentment and hatred. Nothing good ever happens when this emotion comes to the enemy. But they were doomed not to know the reason for its ecstasy.
Only the hatchlings of superior demons can be weaponized. Better control in terms of strength is one of the reasons, but by no means the main reason - the most important thing is that the hatchlings don't kill themselves in despair, they haven't had time to learn this. Even if they are stuck in the gap between the rules of the abyss, even if they are cut by space magic from time to time, no matter how painful they feel, they don't know how to resist.
Because they will think the world is the way it is.
Pandoratel has a docile temperament, belongs to the innate superior demon, and has a particularly long juvenile period, which is very suitable for being a target. Their power is considered a hindrance among higher-level demons, but they are more than enough as surface weapons. This one has been in use for a long time, it is quiet and obedient, and it has never gone wrong.
When it was captured by the magic circle, it was too small, and it didn't even have time to master the language of its own ethnic group. Even with the help of the emotion monitoring array, no creature in this world can understand its specific thoughts.
In theory it should be so.
Nemo covered his ears, and the noise grew fainter as the plume drifted away, and the strange murmur returned.
Countless demons and demon beasts tore the smoke column, like a swarm of flies crawling with carrion.
The plume of smoke fell slowly towards them. Oliver was about to drag Nemo away, but it disappeared into the air as suddenly as it appeared. Pandoratel should have been taken back by the mercenary guild, although I don't know why.
"Nemo, Nemo!" Oliver patted Nemo's face with his bloodless hand - in the chaos, the black-haired youth actually froze for himself.
"Ah...?" Nemo responded in confusion.
"What are you crying for?" Oliver alertly aimed at the demons not far away that had not yet dispersed.
"Nonsense, how could I... eh?" Nemo wiped his face, and his fingertips really touched the wet marks.
"...Maybe I was fascinated by the sand just now." He shrugged.
,Wonderful!
(m.. = )