"What the hell is this place?" Roy climbed over the rocky hillside and stepped onto a rough and winding path.
He looked far into the distance, and at the end of his vision, hidden in the mist, a huge full moon hung on the top of the rolling hills. As soon as you reach out, you can touch the surface of the moon, a circle of gray-black ring mountains.
"Haha, do you like it? You have to see!"
"But remember, you have to find out before time runs out."
Master Mirror's voice sounded like a maggot in the tarsus, and he didn't know where to hide, admiring the witcher's struggle.
Roy ignored the joke. The hourglass in the palm of his hand was small and delicate, but the sand was not passing fast. He probably had—
"One hour… "
With a move in his heart, he tried to mobilize the loot package again. His past experience had already allowed him to guess the answer. If he could mobilize the sword oil, potion, and drinking water in the space, then the problem would be easily solved.
But this time, the loot package failed to respond to his command, as if it was firmly blocked by a layer of unknown magic.
Roy went to Pinto Guvisher and Arondite separately, observing the smooth blade of the sword by the moonlight.
It's a pity that the blade was plated with a hazy white layer at some point, like a night pearl, which made him dazzled, unable to reflect the shadow at all.
"It's really not that simple."
Roy found another piece of mud nearby, quickly dug a pit with his weapon, looked left and right for a moment, and poured a soak of urine into the pit. The puddle is declared a failure!
"Is this the so-called ban on cheating?"
It appears that none of these opportunistic approaches are desirable.
Roy's toes were lightly on the ground, his slender limbs were as strong as a cheetah, and his figure flashed in the night, like a floating ghost, moving very fast.
The wasteland was deadly silent, frighteningly quiet, except for the sound of his footsteps, the small beasts that came out at night and the low-pitched humming of summer insects. The air is filled with light and cold fog, sparse weeds and dead ancient trees with distorted shapes stand on both sides of the road, like the guards guarding the doomsday gate.
Every few steps, ancient trees stretched their branches, raised lanterns, and ominous red light was scattered, rendering blood-like colors on the ground.
A strange and dangerous atmosphere spread in his heart, running and running, Roy only felt his temples pounding and restless. After about five minutes, the hunch was confirmed.
Without warning, two black shadows emerged from behind the stones on the side of the road and rushed towards them with gusts of gloomy wind.
Taking the move in a hurry, Roy was calm and composed. His rich combat experience allowed him to react in time. Instead of retreating, he advanced. He rolled along the gap between the two monsters first, avoiding their attack, and then turned around. , with the right hand pulled out behind Arondette standing in front of the chest, the left hand outlines the seal of Quinn.
Under the pale yellow light, it flexibly walked around the attackers and circled.
ghost
age:? ?
Identity: Energy bodies (they are toy puppets created on the whim of some mysterious being)
Life: 80
Attributes:
Strength: 8
Agility: 5
Constitution: 8
Perception: 5
Will: 4
Charisma: 3
Spirit: 4
Skill:
…
These two monsters were unlike anything the witcher had ever seen before, black as ink, engulfing the nearby light.
It exudes vicious and destructive malice, without the slightest breath of living creatures.
The witcher could only see a rough shape, resembling a common humanoid monster near the water—a water ghost.
With a hunched back, a belly as big as a bucket, and long and dry limbs... He is good at waving his claws and swooping continuously, and he does his best in every attack.
But they don't "wow" like a water ghost when they attack, and they may not have the ability to make sounds at all.
After almost comprehending the abilities of the ghosts, the witcher turned and retreated again, dodging their pounces, and then pushed his palms forward against the ghosts.
"Bang!" A strong airflow suddenly erupted, and the two monsters staggered back as if hit by a battering ram, losing their balance.
The next moment, Roy held Arrondette horizontally, and the tip of his sword took a few steps forward like a lightning bolt. "Swish" slashed out three swords, the sword light rippling like water waves, passing over the ghosts respectively. neck, chest, and thighs.
The blade was still as clean as new, without a trace of blood, and after the two ghosts were hit hard, they lay quietly on the ground, and evaporated into the air as quickly as vapor.
"Kill ghosts, experience +20..."
"Kill ghosts, experience +20..."
Witcher lv6 (3380/3500)
"It actually has experience points?" Roy was surprised and delighted, the soul is the source of his experience, and the puppets created by Master Mirror have souls, what kind of powerful ability is this
"It's really considerate, it's time to upgrade after a few more."
But he didn't have the time to gain experience. This battle took about a minute, so he had to hurry up.
"Master Mirror," Roy yelled into the air as he ran, "you never said there would be monster attacks!"
"My world has to follow my rules!" Odim retorted, hiding somewhere, "and it's just an appetizer."
"Then this place no longer belongs to the previous world? Is it another plane, or a place created by Gaunt O'Dimm?"
Without thinking much, Roy noticed from the corner of his vision that not far from his left hand, there was a row of low stone stairs going up, and two lanterns shed a strange red light, illuminating a disrepaired and dilapidated pavilion.
The witcher paused, then quickly moved closer.
This pavilion should have a history of hundreds of years. It has been devastated by wind and rain. There are only a few broken tiles on the roof, covered with moss, and the columns of the pavilion are purely grown from the twisted ancient branches around it. It feels wet, sticky and disgusting to the touch.
There was also an old well in the center of the pavilion. Roy probed into the well. The red light of the lantern illuminated the dry bottom of the well. The bones of a few small animals and a few withered branches were dripping with water.
Roy frowned.
"Dude, this well didn't give you any inspiration?" Gaunt O'Dim's voice came from the bottom of the well. "Why don't you come in and take a look? I'm in there."
"Odim, don't use tricks to mislead me!" The witcher looked confident, "There is only your 'echo' in the well, and although the 'echo' satisfies 'you can speak, I can speak', but it cannot be touched , is by no means the answer."
"You're a little brainy, witcher."
"each other..."
…
Returning to the path from the pavilion, Roy passed a single-plank bridge in the air. Under the bridge was a bottomless rift valley, in which gray-black clouds were shrouded in mist, and a faint yellow light flickered in the mist. There was a dull, irritating roar.
A hot and smoky wind blew up from the abyss, with a pungent smell of sulfur.
"Is this a river of magma below?" The witcher stood on the bridge for a moment, and then felt a slight dizziness because of his fear of heights. He could almost imagine falling from the single-plank bridge and falling into the magma to be completely melted into gas , with no ashes left.
He quickly retracted his gaze, and then a strange, crisp and tender childish voice suddenly stopped him from behind.
"Roy!"
"Help!"
"Huh?" The witcher's heart jumped, and he instantly fell into memory. This voice was too familiar, so familiar that he spent most of his childhood with him.
"Who would call me Roy, could it be an illusion?"
He couldn't help but turn around and glanced back, and was surprised to find that not far from his feet, a thin and slender arm stretched out from under the single-plank bridge, tightly clinging to the plank.
A boy showed his face stubbornly,
The black watermelon head and the chubby face turned bloody, about eight or nine years old.
The two caterpillar-like snots under the nose were sucking and sucking, which was quite joyful.
…
Roy's pupils shrank, and he couldn't smile at all, "Fake, right? Yes, it must be Odim's trick to confuse me!" Some painful memories rolled through his mind like a flood.
Could it be that Master Mirror really has the ability to reunite the dissipated souls of the dead and imprison them in another world
He immediately shook his head, regained his composure under the influence of will, and resolutely continued to walk towards the other side of the single-plank bridge.
"Roy, save me... I'm Little Brandon!" the boy cried even more miserably, his breathing became more and more rapid.
The witcher hurried away.
The single-plank bridge began to shake slightly.
"Have you forgotten... woo woo... I introduced you to Father Fletcher and made you an apprentice butcher, you owe me a favor... please, give me a hand... I don't want to fall... woo woo..."
"Why are you here, slug?" Roy couldn't help but ask, but he still didn't stop, getting closer and closer to the other side.
"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu00000000000" Little Brandon didn't know either. I was innocent—I appeared here as soon as I woke up. The river water below was so hot that I felt pain all over my body... I was almost cooked."
"Hey, man!" Another rough voice interrupted the boy's call, "Carbon Mountain greets you, didn't expect to see you here! Are you dead too?" A stubby, short-haired hand Holding the reins of the single-plank bridge.
Then came the dwarf's signature bushy bearded face.
"Come on Labbony!" The dwarf struggled to hold the reins, half of his body was suspended, and the muscles on his face tensed as the suspension bridge swayed, barely making a bold smile, "Pull me up, let's work together again. Rescue this little brat, find a place to reminisce, exchange archery skills, and let me see your progress."
"The days below are not easy, fortunately the dwarves have rough skin and thick flesh..."
The dwarf found that the figure in front was completely indifferent, and his steps did not hesitate, so his voice became panic,
"Hey! Roy, where are you going? Help old friends, don't leave us behind!"
"Sorry, my friend Bernie is still alive and well and not good at archery." Roy waved at him.
"Master, look this way, it's me, Basher, the son of old Huck, the baker's owner!" A young man with a swollen face and a simple and honest appearance climbed out of the drawbridge, "For your potion, let I've had a rotten stomach, been tortured to death, and I'm still rolling in my stomach... Should I atone for my sins and give me a hand? Just this time, please, I want to see old Huck!"
…
"Sorry, I can't waste time to save you..." The witcher gritted his teeth, held the hourglass that was constantly passing in his palm, and completely walked out of the bridge of memories. Although the painful experience in the past made him feel up and down, he couldn't shake him. of mind.
"Dead is dead, fake is fake."
The three familiar voices were immediately engulfed by the mist and dissipated in the night wind until they were completely inaudible.
"Friend, do you really have no feeling at all in the face of old acquaintances?" Odim's playful words fell from the sky, "or is it completely wiped out by the mutation, without showing any affection?"
"Your name should be prefixed with a heart of stone. At a young age, you are hard but not like a human..."
"Gaunt O'Dim..." the witcher snapped, "I'll catch you, I swear!"
"This is too exciting to bear? My friend, why don't you give up and admit defeat as soon as possible, and get out of your misery soon."
"You're dreaming, just wait and see!"