87_87643.

Usually the opponent who can be solved with all his strength can be won with a ** force, since he is forced to do his best, how can he be so easily knocked down. The direction Anton is facing is becoming more and more intense, even if he can't see it, he knows it.

The faint sound of metal grinding in the steaming and burning darkness was a gear, and the slow and sluggish rotation sent chills down Anton's spine, and he would be very relieved if someone told him that it was just a delusion of victimization caused by the uneasiness of human beings in the face of asymmetrical information.

It was as if a small rock had fallen, and the sound of the gears was even more pronounced.

The spirits who had voluntarily demonized fell into a brief state of calm. The beetles were almost crawling apart, or they had found a home under the swollen and wriggling flesh of their flesh.

"Oh my God...... What have you done?"

Zaridan's eyes were blank, but now it was Ildris's turn to hold on to him; "Whatever happens...... This is the fate they and I have chosen. ”

The darkness in front of Anton shrank sharply, then swelled.

The grinding of the gears was gone, replaced by a deafening sound of wings—darkness was blown up like an explosion, and two red fires burned at the tip of a black thicker and darker than all black, pressing down on Anton.

At the edge of the forest, the Imperial Command of the Agus Front Troops.

A group of mages dressed in various robes were busy around a lot of strange and complicated machines, and several soldiers dressed in black stood in the corner. In this room, their role is no different from that of a marble statue, but it is still a little better than mere ornamentation due to the fact that their black armor, which symbolizes status, can make those who surround them feel empowered.

The Legion Commander's solemn chair was replaced by a Gothic semi-chaise longue, the soft velvet cushions were extraordinarily elastic and comfortable under the leaning of the body, and Dagulas was lying on it with her chin propped up very unladylikely, and the velvet chair cover looked disorganized after constant twisting.

The lenses of her glasses reflected the words and images scrolling on the large screen in front of her, all about the Tin Man.

The Empire's forces had gained considerable superiority in battle with a large number of weapons constructed, and it was only a matter of time before they achieved total victory - organizing resistance of any size would drain the elven horde hiding in the dense forest until these beautiful creatures were lost, and the oppressive attacks of successive days were fruitful, and Dagoras was quite pleased with the scenes of killing and burning.

But where is the Tin Man who can devour the construct?

The deputy commander beside him still reacted without humming or hauling, and closed his eyes and meditated intently.

It's boring. Dagulas sighed, unable to come up with a reason.

"Report to the Commander! The Troop Strikers have gone deep into the jungle and are engaged in a fierce battle with the Night Elves, and we have discovered a sizable tribe right around the corner," shouted an excited voice over the magic megaphone on the podium.

"Shall I announce the withdrawal of troops, then?" Dagulas, still staring.

"Sir...... I don't understand what you mean. I don't know what the expression of the non-commissioned officer in front of the microphone was, but his voice revealed inexplicable panic.

"I ask you, should I announce the withdrawal of troops now?"

"Nope. Sir. ”

"So what do we do?"

"Take down the elven tribe in one go, kill all the resistors, and capture those elves. ”

"If you know, do it, alas. ”

"I'm sorry, sir. ”

"Before dark. Dagulas had the impatient expression on his face that also needed to be taught by me.

Why don't you have time for these weird toys to improve the personal qualities of the soldiers? Can magic, such a wonderful art, be mastered by messy sideways...... The archmages were also busy competing for favor around the emperor, doing useless things.

At the end of the day, I'm the only one working, and it's so distressing to have a woman as the commander of such a luxurious unit, and the soldiers refuse to use their lives...... Again and again, the Tin Man threw out his shackles and smashed the head of the same soldier.

"Your Excellency, the results are in, and your guesses are accurate. The blue-robed mage respectfully handed over a thick report.

"Yes, you didn't follow my train of thought to make me happy, if you go on a business trip, the one who will be punished the most severely by the empire is me, not you. Dagulas lazily threw the report on the low cabinet next to her, almost knocking over the cold drink on it.

"How could it be...... I assure you, of course, that it has been the result of careful and repeated verification, Your Excellency. There was a slight tremor at the hem of the blue mage's robe.

Of course, she was well aware that as a genius mage who excelled among the younger generation of the Imperial Mage Regiment.

Then I'll trust you—Dagulas's pale lips trembled slightly as this expression reached the blue-robed mage's pupils.

The analysis in the report is very detailed and organized, and each figure is detailed and sufficiently explained, and a scientist is a scientist. Whether it is magic or not, it is that virtue.

Attached to the material is a few pages of analysis of the Tin Man.

The iron-skinned creature called Forty-Seven had originally housed the core for years, maybe even decades, so it's no surprise that it resonated with the Construct Weapon.

This assumption was originally based on the information provided by Moriel, and although it was easy to obtain it with the help of the Empire's intelligence agencies, it still made Dagulas happy to hear it from her mouth.

This kid never likes to talk much, it's really worrying.

Morrill had already opened his eyes, and between his slender fingers flashed a not-so-dazzling white light, writhing strongly like a worm, crackling. She just looked down and fiddled with her fingers, and it felt like Moriel was to Dagulas, a rare and good toy.

Dagulas held the heavy information in her hand and looked at it for a while, her face full of a maternal smile.

Semi-Purgatory Creatures and Infernal ...... She chuckled.

He got up from the chair and threw the hem of his robe behind him with all his might, and the light and thin material of the silk weave swayed with Dagula's rapid walking before it fell.

Descending the steps, she made her way to the workbench.

"Connect me to the Empire! The big men in the rear have to make some effort!"

Anton slid sideways, and the holy light illuminated the darkness that came to him, and also illuminated the metal face of Forty-Seven in the darkness, but with the brief interplay of weapons on both sides, the surrounding darkness swallowed up the luster, and in such a flickering and flickering alternate, Anton and Forty-Seven made a few moves, and when the situation fell back into a brief stalemate, he was as haggard and tired as an ordinary old man of sixty or seventy years old who had been busy all day. The holy power that once made Forty-Seven very wary and jealous was now caught in the aura of rolling rage, like a candle in the wind, which could be extinguished at any time, and the anti-evil aura around the holy warrior had been compressed, and he could only be left alone.

What a demonic aura.

The spiked chain flail fell with a clatter, and now Forty-Seven seemed to be black with every breath he exhaled, and there were many scars on his body, which should be a memorial left by the battle with the elven guardians, and now those wounds were like mouths absorbing and spitting out black smoke, gradually healing.

"You have been affected by too much of the power of the Abyss, and have become the medium of this dark ritual...... I have to find a way to make you stop, even if it's to destroy you - you have to understand, I have no choice!" Anton clenched his sword and stood for it.

"Understand?" The flail swept out flat, and Anton leaned over to dodge, the sharp wind coming from his head made him feel like he had escaped from the dragon's mouth.

"Sizzle-" Forty-seven let out a lizard-like cry, but many times louder, and the sound was so tangible that it even drummed throughout the dark hall like a square, forcing everyone to retreat - except for the demonized elves who were dead.

"What I understand is ruin and death!" As if a demonic declaration, Forty-Seven raised his greatsword: "I am tired of the games of the house! Whoever tries to destroy me will be ruined by me! I love those who love me, I hate those who hate me, this is what the Count of Monte Cristo said!"

The Count of Monte Cristo, what a filthy name! Is this the name of some abyssal archdemon?

Milia rushed up and tried to help Anton.

"Don't come here!" Anton shouted, and at the same time parried the sawtooth greatsword that slashed horizontally, but the speed and power were beyond his imagination, or he could not have imagined at all, and when Forty-Seven was in full force, his skillful use of force was completely useless - extraordinary human power might be able to bring down an angry bull and unload a fallen tree, but could it withstand a roaring avalanche or a raging flood? His body slid out in the direction of the sword's swing, maintaining a defensive posture, his arms continued to tremble, the holy power on the sword almost completely dissipated, the hall repeated the darkness, but the eyes of the elves who retreated far away still flashed, like stars in the night sky, some white, some red.

Now Milia's light could not penetrate the dense black mist. Anton and Forty-Seven were drowned in darkness, and the others could only tell where they were and what they were doing by their voices, and God knows what they could do but fight.

The sparkling light burst out, accompanied by the crisp sound of each sword clashing, as if someone had fallen, rolled up, and fell, but the tight, heavy metal footsteps could always be heard.

In the darkness, Anton kept gasping for breath, every time he came into contact with Forty-Seven's attack, it was like a brush with death, although Forty-Seven did not hide his position and movements, but even if he judged this qiē, he would never say that he could bear it - this was still a situation in exchange for the rich experience accumulated in the past sixty years, if she changed the inexperienced god knight, her blood would be drained at this moment.

Although the time and place were extremely inappropriate, Anton actually recalled the first time he met Uther Grand Druid.

At that time he was young and stronger, almost as energetic and reckless as Milia. The huge grizzly bear summoned by Uther flapped its heavy paws, and the wind tore it apart, and although the years inadvertently exaggerated his memories to perpetuate the shock, there was no doubt that the strength of the giant bear was not as strong as the unbridled bump of forty-seven in front of him.

What is that Uther guy doing now? If he dies here, will he think of that hearty battle when he thinks of his old friend in the future?

Uther, the Great Druid, who was fighting bloodily, didn't know if he would think the same thing.

A gorilla-like construct with all four limbs smashed through a large tree with an unbelievable speed and rushed in front of him, raising its huge arms made of brass and pig iron and slamming it down, even using acceleration and stone skin to run rampant and invulnerable on the battlefield. Uther dodged nimbly, and before it could launch a second attack, the magical energy poured down on the constructor with his chant, covering it - after the spell, the constructor rose to its feet, then fell to the ground, and its steel body had been completely transformed into verdant wood.

This is the last iron spell to turn wood. Uther sighed, and his emaciated hand touched an oak tree beside him, and the oak tree shook violently, almost shaking itself down, and by the time it was out of the earth, it had turned into a ten-foot-tall dryad and swooped down on the enemy.

The tree is finished. It can no longer take root in the earth, and thousands of years of long life are all reduced to the glory of this moment of killing.

Not far away, a vague human form suddenly appeared on another tree, and a druid seemed to grow out of the trunk of a tree, covered in wood-colored textures, until it broke away from the tree.

"How's the evacuation of the wounded and the clansmen?" Uther asked.

"There are still many ......" the druid looked angry and anxious: "Great druid, you retreat first!"

"If I retreat, the situation on the battlefield will be even more unfavorable......" Uther then swung out a damp cloud, almost a cloud of water, surging towards a large forest in the middle of the battlefield that had been ignited by the Burning Cloud Technique, like an insulating blanket pressed against it, stopping the unbridled spread of the fire.

For some unknown reason, the attacks of the Argus had been unusually fierce for a few days - they had even penetrated into the interior of the forest that they had avoided for a long time, and the tactics they adopted were almost close to a scorched earth strategy, did they not even care about the powerful treants who had always been invincible to the world?

It seems that there is some reason to rush to open up the situation, and the number of troops invested in attacking the fortification greatly exceeds the number of previous ones, although there is no big breakthrough in weapons this time, but in the contest between steel and flesh, the advantages and disadvantages of the two sides have always been self-evident.

The only way for the elven warriors to avoid the sturdy armor or shell is to attack the relatively fragile parts to make it lose the superiority of the shell armor, either to break the feet of the mobile weapon and make it difficult to walk, or to break the flesh and blood hiding inside and destroy the center. The latter is more effective in terms of lethality, the former is easier with the help of earth elementals or dryads summoned by the druids, but either way, they have to withstand the near-sweeping spell bombardment of the Argus army, and a common argument used by the crappy mages to mock them is that this guy will do nothing but use a meat shield in front of him to blast himself with a fireball in the back, but admittedly, this method is often the most effective in many cases.

Uther suddenly felt something, and turned her head to look deeper into the forest.

Could it be that Eldris has already ...... Before he could think about it, Argus's attack was coming—in this battlefield of blood and fire, he, the paladin Jossen, Joelis, and all the other elves were all involved, fighting to the death.

"Report! There is news from the rear, it has been located!" The white-robed mage turned his head from the front of the console excitedly, only to find that Dagulas was concentrating on cutting his toenails - the hem of the silk mage robe could not cover the round and perfect ankles, and the bright red nail polish on the toes without a single calloon made the mage lose his mind for a moment......

"What are you looking at?" the cold voice woke up the white-robed mage like a basin of cold water, and he even trembled with a premonition of what kind of tragic fate this brief presumptuous presumptuous would bring him.

"What location?"

"I'll ask you where you are!" Dagulas repeated angrily, wondering if she should send this mage to the front - no, that would be too cheap.

After Qiē was ready, she smiled and asked the deputy who had not stopped meditating, "Honey, do you want to go?"

Don't forget to vote after reading it!hehe~

The latest chapter of the high-speed debut magic suit, this chapter is the third chapter of the burning jungle fortieth round everyone's war address is.