At the bottom of a hidden cliff 60 miles away, a field of blooming wildflowers was still swaying slightly, and a slender figure slid out of the shadows, staggering a few steps before regaining its footing.

A mouthful of blood sprayed onto the orange wildflowers.

When this delicate tall beauty stood on the spot again, a strange cold killing machine began to permeate the forest.

"My lord, your injuries are not serious, right?" A dry, hoarse and unpleasant voice came from the beautiful woman's hand.

"Hmph, if it weren't for saving you idiot, would I have been hurt?" The beauty raised her right hand dissatisfiedly, and the blue-gray head of the Headless Horsemann Serti met the angry eyes of the Phantom Girl.

"This ...... My lord, I'm a knight, not a thief, and I can't hide from their search! The only remaining head of Serti muttered, but it was clearly lacking in confidence.

"Humph! You're not a thief, that's why you're running around on your horse? If you really want to die, I'll throw your head right now to that pesky dwarf winter melon. The phantom grabbed Celti's head and shook it with hatred, until his eyes were full of gold stars, and his head was full of illusory light and shadows before she stopped.

Celti didn't dare to talk anymore, and after retching a few times, he honestly kept silent.

Indeed, if it weren't for the sake of saving herself, Lord Younu would only rely on her ability to come and go freely with this body, and there would be only a handful of people in this world who could restrain her. Just now, Shengsheng was defeated by the legendary wizard's brute force to break through the immature shadow realm, and that kind of backlash could only be endured helplessly.

Despite the many shadow jumps, it was clear that it was not far enough to get to the legendary wizard, and it was not a safe place, so Celti tried to persuade the grumpy Assassin to slip his feet. But the ghost girl is used to being a maverick, obviously she doesn't like to be pointed at by others, so she hung her head directly on her waist, and waved her backhand towards the grass where she was standing just now, and then she escaped into the boundless shadow again.

A singularity leading to the shadow plane suddenly opened in space, and a large cloud of intensely corrosive dark black smoke erupted from it, directly covering the grass and flowers. When the strange sound of erosion finally stopped, the strange smoke gradually dissipated and dissolved into the air, revealing a bare brown-yellow earth in its place.

It's just that the ground here is also a lot sunken compared to the neighborhood.

After following Li Xun for so long, the ghost girl has also learned to be much more cautious, she will not carelessly leave her blood to those witch god lackeys who are chasing after her.

……

The realm of the undead.

The overcast sky was still gray, the cold wind howled high in the sky, and the ground was gray except for black and white.

After being immersed in this monotonous world for a long time, Phinea guessed that she could no longer perceive any other colors.

It is a hidden valley basin. Back then, it must have been a pleasant scene of flowers and birds. But now, all that was left was the bare, dark black ground, and only in some corners were a few half-man-tall dead tree stumps and dry vines that crumbled when pinched.

The dirt under his feet was also rotten and smelly, and with a casual kick of his foot, he could find white bone fragments or some part of his body in the loose mud.

Although the air can still breathe, every time you breathe, a faint stinging pain comes from the swollen alveoli in your body.

Finnier brushed off the hood on his head, and finally presented his face again in this dim and dreunious world of death.

The gray and stiff flesh, the shriveled and shrunken body, the sparse and pale yellow hair, the sunken and deep eye sockets, and the needle-like cross red light in the depths of the eye sockets, this is already the shape of an undead corpse witch. But the only thing that distinguished him from the corpse witch was the slight amount of heat that erupted from his huge nose hole and his slow-beating heart.

The right hand holding the White Bone Staff tightened again, and the joints became more and more protruding due to the excessive force. Through the thin blue-gray skin, you can even see the pale joints and cracks inside.

Powerful and obscure spatial fluctuations came from the depths of the valley, but at the edge of the valley they encountered hidden magical runes drawn on the steep stone walls, and they quietly disappeared.

Let's hope it will be successful this time!

Finier thought nonchalantly.

This was already the third large-scale sacrifice. Since the discovery of a natural spatial rift in this valley a year ago, the great legendary lich "Pale Lord" Sazastan has set up his own real room here, making all kinds of preparations to communicate with the main plane.

Although they possess the plane of the Klein Continent, it is a pity that due to the lack of resources and the existence of natural enemies, the plane connection of stable dìng has never been possible. As a last resort, Sazastan could only open a temporary spatial channel for preliminary communication in the form of large-scale sacrifices.

Originally, their plan was to expand their territory moderately, loot a large number of "sacrifices" from the surrounding lords, and then use them as materials to complete this sacrifice. It's a pity that the battle has been going on for more than half a year, but it has never been able to completely defeat the difficult zombie lord. On the contrary, the lord force they controlled before had shrunk in strength over a long period of war attrition.

Of course, what is even more odious is that at the most tense moment of the battle, a third-party undead force actually intervened. These damned creatures seemed to have a grudge against them, staring at their empty rear points and chasing after them, which directly led to the weakness and retreat of the frontline battlefield.

The Fiinir, who was tasked with investigating, couldn't even get close to their lair, only knowing that this third party might be controlled by a bone dragon lord.

"These damn undead!" Finel cursed indignantly again.

If it weren't for their intervention, maybe that war wouldn't last half a year at all, maybe the temporary space passage would have been successfully built a long time ago, and maybe with the supply of materials from the main plane, his body wouldn't have decayed to this point.

This pile, one by one, every thing that doesn't go well can be counted on that group of damned undead.

Now even the great legendary Lich Sazastan has secretly abandoned the war on the front line and returned to the valley with a part of the undead elite. The large-scale sacrifice had begun two days earlier, and due to the lack of a large number of undead prisoners of war, in order to make up for the shortfall in sacrifice, the Lord would most likely make up for the lack of quantity with quality. Ho ho, I guess those brainless undead natives must have become part of the ritual at this moment, right?

Just when he was silently distracted, his heart fluttered inexplicably, as if a hidden heartstring had been triggered.

"Damn bastard!" Finir cursed again, cast a flying spell on himself, and led a group of ghost men to pounce in the direction of a distant alert circle that had been touched.

Ever since their forces retreated back into the valley, the pesky third party has been infiltrating and scouting everywhere. In particular, this hidden valley, where they focused on arming, has become a key area for the undead to repeatedly impact and sneak. Infiltration alerts like these would appear about one or twenty times a day, each time with hordes of special ghouls or some kind of stealthy spirit assassin.

Sometimes even Finel, a level 16 Dark Master, can't help but start admiring this opponent. The endless stream of strange undead creatures under the other party's command is simply superb, and he has some qualities that even he praises. It can be seen that most of the subordinates owned by the other party have undergone special biological transformation, which is very different from the undead born from the origin, and can even be classified into two different types of undead creatures.

Many times, Finier wondered if there was a great expert in undead creatures hidden behind that hateful third-party undead force. You must know that the transformation of undead creatures involves the origin soul fire of the undead in many places, rather than a simple physical mutation. To keep the soul fire and the mutated body in symbiosis, and to maintain a long-term and stable dìng, to create a new group of undead, this is no less than the means of the "creator".

In Finnier's mind, it seems that only the great legendary Lich Emperor and certain undead kings can be involved in this kind of transformation.

The Undead Realm has Legendary Undead Monarchs, and they already knew this when they first came to this plane. There is even evidence that the legendary Lich "Pale Lord" Sazastan has fought one of these kings, but it is not known how it turned out. However, just from the temporary shelter of Sazastan in such a remote wilderness, one can imagine how the battle will end.

The kings of the undead have never been alone. After hundreds of thousands of years of natural selection, although they are inferior to the legendary lich who came across the border in terms of individual strength and magic equipment, they can rush up with a large number of elite men under their hands, and even the pale lord who has two legendary magic equipment in his hands will flee in the wilderness.

Truth be told, it's a great place for necromancers.

The low-level undead all over the mountains, the mid- and high-level undead natives who dominate the king, and the undead kings who own a territory, if these fall into the hands of the Council of the Undead and conquer them one by one, it will definitely be the best rear base camp to counterattack the Klein Continent. It's a pity that the plane moat separated them on both sides, so that their group of advance troops sat on the treasure mountain and did not have the tools to dig, but lived a miserable and melancholy life.

And he, the master of darkness, is about to become a true undead corpse.

At this moment, his body has entered an irreversible decline, and if he does not perform the Lich Reincarnation Ritual in time, I am afraid that he will have to spend the rest of his life as a crude corpse witch.

But no matter what, this rou body of his own must be lost. The thought of being insulated from the fragrant air, the beautiful women, the fragrant food, and the warm and comfortable velvet bed made Finnier feel that his future was bleak and his life was bleak.

As a result, the image of a tall, proud, noble, and imposing beauty emerged in the depths of his soul.

"Solanlian ......"

(l~1`x*>+``+