87_87643 burns, and a little foot of the little half-human sheep love xù is very unstable. Seven dark red flame eyes, grief and anger almost broke free from the arms of the two centaur ladies who cared for him, and rushed to the enemy in his heart without hesitation.

"Devil's eyes!" shouted the little centaur, the revelation of his childish voice nearly detonating the fury of the centaur warriors once again.

"That's enough! You're going to add a little more suffering to poor little Oliver!" "Scar Centaure, whose name is Briss, stopped in front of Moriel, and although he had temporarily lost his double-edged axe in his hand, he still clenched his hammer-like fist and glared at her, as if he was ready to pick them up and smash them a few times on the smooth forehead of the female mage: "Lord Material Man, if you have any other excuses, it is best to say them before your name is written in the Book of Death!"

"Quiet, you fool. Morrill rebuked him harshly, apparently not taking the threat of the macho Briss seriously, even now in the midst of a foreign realm where magical power was suppressed and a large number of high-level spells were neutralized: "If your clumsy, hard horns haven't fully grown into your head, you should tell that we have nothing to do with the massacres that took place here." And if you will get rid of your arrogant prejudices and deign to help you get out of the way, I will be able to talk to this little centaler, and perhaps a little help, and help you find the real culprit of this tragedy. ”

Because of Moriel's words, bruises burst out on Brith's bald head, and every hair stood up like a sword in anger. His eyes could tear her apart with all his eyes - but he wasn't so disorganized as to attack in defiance of the chief's will, and the Centaur was talking privately with Jacob, a plane merchant, and although the old chief was angry from time to time, he never flared up, and finally raised his oak scepter to signal the people not to act rashly.

"We're on a deal?" added Morrill and said to Forty-Seven, "Well, don't keep staring at that poor boy, you'll scare him." ”

Speaking from the heart, Forty-Seven really didn't mean it. So he shrugged. I didn't care to look away and start looking around.

It's a mess - this small pasture is where the half-sheep family once rested, and it was also the place where the tragedy occurred. The corpse had been buried by the centaurs who had heard the news, leaving only charred grass stalks and large patches of ash on the hard mud ground, like purgatory, in order to avoid oblivion, showing the world its cruel and merciless power. Some black and slimy things were haphazardly piled up in a pit a little farther away, which seemed to be a small pond, and had also been dried by some unimaginable heat. Several vultures rose and fell on the mound, frequently sticking their heads in and pecking out a piece of charred internal organs to eat. If you look closely at the pile of black objects. It can be vaguely seen that it is the charred bones of a goat, and the bloody flesh is thoroughly roasted, and the stench rises. Although this group of poor creatures also suffered misfortunes, it is only natural that they will not be treated more favorably than their distant relatives with higher intelligence.

A lost dog will watch over its young, a bird will hover where it has lost its mate, and a pig housed in a farmer's house will snort in pain as it sees its own kind being slaughtered. They will all sympathize with their relatives and will grieve the loss of their relatives. Emotions are the earthly functions of all living beings, but intelligence - only intelligence is the distinction between low and higher beings, and only intelligence can derive a series of vassal products such as love, morality, law, and so on. Only the intellect can decide who occupies the most prominent page in the history of the multiverse.

Although Forty-Seven has mediocre intelligence, he himself is the brainchild of countless people with outstanding intelligence, a masterpiece of industrialization. It doesn't matter what world it is. Ignoring the Centaur Sheep warriors still scattered around, they paced leisurely on the scorched earth, their eyes sweeping around, pausing from time to time to take a closer look at the cracked earth that had been almost burned into a ceramic shape. This trace is familiar.

Morrill withdrew his hand, disappointed.

Poor little centaur fell asleep in the arms of the caregiver. Half of it is due to the fatigue caused by the huge emotional fluctuations. It is too difficult for an adult to remain calm and rational in the middle of the two rotating millstones of anger and sorrow, and the other half is due to Moriel's magical effect, "Probing Thoughts", which is the highest prophecy spell that can be cast in this area, and the desire to control the torrent of other people's spirits and seize the information and knowledge they want. It will also unknowingly drain a lot of the recipient's energy.

However, there are no achievements worth mentioning for female mages. Except for the skyrocketing flames and the panicked figure of the centaur, Oliver actually didn't see the true face of the murderer, let alone the "woman in red", even the "demon eyes" deep in his mind, its owner is also bizarre, varied, and strange, and there is no unified standard at all, if it is not really so many bottomless abyss demons have visited this place, it can only be attributed to the child's memory is too rich, and too good at imagination, but distorts the real reality he sees.

So Morrill didn't find any more evidence to substantiate his suspicions. "Lookback Vision" might be a big help, but when she tries to invoke more powerful spell energy, despite spells, gestures, There is no difference in the speed of the spell material and even the tone of the voice, but the magic net has completely fallen silent, and the female mage can't reach the higher level she has already appreciated, it is not a situation where the stairs are close in front of you just because she is restrained or unable to climb and cannot reach it, but there is no feeling at all, it seems that there are only so many magic nets that extend from the origin of magic, so deep, the so-called nine-ring arcane...... There is no zài at all.

This damn Outland!

"The two attackers started from that side. Forty-seven's sonorous metal voice interrupted the mage's thoughts. Morrill looked up at him in amazement, and saw that the metal finger was pointing in one direction—never able to tell the difference between morning and dusk, and to see the end of the sun's sky. Infinite pinnacles loom in the background.

Forty-seven did not wait for any questions, and then went down to himself: "The sentry did not find the enemy. It's no wonder that these goats are even divided between Li Ghost and Li Kui. ”

The attackers first unleashed a wall of fire to cut off the entire camp, so that the adult fighters could not quickly come to the aid of the women and children they were protecting in the middle. The goats fought back, but their swords melted away like tin in a fire. They tried to distance themselves, using their mobility and archery skills to overwhelm and eliminate their opponents, and the enemy fired fireballs from the sky to dispel the seemingly beautiful strategic deployment. Here, here, and here...... A great artillery fire cover. It can also be called carpet bombing. ”

As he said this, Forty-Seven kept pointing in different directions—his fingertips shooting out extremely thin beams of blood-red light, shining through the obstacle to where he wanted it to shine. The centaurs scattered as if fleeing the plague and went into a state of high alert, but no matter how agile they were, they couldn't keep up with the speed of their fingers. Fortunately, the red light is indeed only used to guide the way, and it has no lethal power.

"Hi...... Wait, put away your little tricks. Morriel looked suspiciously at the metal man's fiery eyes, which looked like two clumps of burning coal, "How did you know about these things?"

Forty-seven also looked at her "suspiciously". The female mage was almost certain that his eyes were imitating her.

"Of course I do. The flame in his eyes flickered: "I see it." ”

"You see?" Morriel couldn't help but look around, "What do you see? Don't look like a pretentious stick, okay?"

"My vision mode covers all geospectral bands, ultraviolet, infrared, and thermal. You just have to pay a little more attention to it, and you'll see that the heat left over from these guys is visible even by civilian detectors. ”

Morriel couldn't see, and she didn't believe there was any vision that could detect the path of the spell's flames—let alone two days ago. But Forty-Seven was always like this, and when he said something to a serious person (although this did not happen often), the best option was to listen to him. Because that's equal to a machine qì after calculations to come to a conclusion. It doesn't matter if you really understand what the long and short codes and cursors on the display mean, they actually mean only one thing: Fool, press enter to confirm.

"I admit it. You always amaze me. The female mage flicked her sideburns: "So, you see the appearance of the attacker?"

"How is that possible? I'm not a camera on a supermarket wall. But ......" Forty-Seven spread his hands and waited for a while.

There was a faint scorching heat in the wind, mixed with the smell of sulfur. At first Morriel thought the heat was coming from Forty-Seven's hands, as she could see that his steel fingers were slowly turning red-hot—but then she realized that the heat was actually drawn from the air and condensed into Forty-Seven's hands like iron filings attracted by a magnet.

The last black flame "exhaled" from the palm of the palm and spit into the air.

"You're no stranger to this. Right?" Forty-Seven squeezed the black fire with his backhand, like grabbing a jumping baseball.

"Yes, it seems that a few old friends are worried about our lonely journey. I want to reminisce about the past. Morriel also looked over the metal man's shoulders and cast his gaze on the Infinite Peak, above which the city of ten thousand gates still hovered like a cloud, "Where have they gone?

"Maybe, who knows. Forty-Seven searched again, and God knows what the Outlands looked like to him at the moment: "I hope they have another barbecue somewhere so that I can find a little more clues...... Hey, I said the Smurfs over there, where can this road go?"

Forty-seven pointed in one direction, where there stood a few piles of strange rocks, and the side facing the prairie was mostly blackened, and in the dimly red and dark sky, it cast a hazy shadow, almost mixed with the rolling mountains behind it, like a small node on the spine of a huge monster.

"Over there?" Jacob interrupted his conversation with the old chief of the half-sheep, and looked up for a moment, "I think...... Dear Iron Samurai, I think that's the way to Ribcage City - not the place for a serious person to go. ”

The plane merchant paused, turned his head to look at the face of the centaur chief, and said, "Could it be...... Could it be that the real murderer fled to Ribcage City?...... Aha! That's right! Such atrocities can only be done by those who have a connection with the demons! Dear Chief Kesak, the facts prove my innocence, right?"

He spoke of "I" rather than "we". Morrill noticed the words of this skilled businessman. He seemed to have quickly pulled up the barrier between himself and the Forty-Seven Ensemble, dissociating themselves from each other. It is no wonder that in the complex and vast language system of human beings, the importance of the word "I" has always been one of the best, and it has since clearly separated "me" from the things outside the body, and everything in the world is also divided into two categories: "mine" and "other people's".

"Hmph, the murderer isn't among us anyway. Forty-seven does not seem to have an interest in thinking deeply about this philosophical proposition: "How. Do you want to ask them out for a morning tea, or do you want to go your separate ways?"

"The main material man who pretends to be a ghost!, trying to divert our attention to a filthy city that does not belong to nature?" Before Morriel could reply, Bliss next to him angrily gouged his hooves and flew into the dust: "Don't try to slip away!

"Listen. ”

Morriel subconsciously took a step back, probably for fear of blood.

"We don't want to slip away, and we don't want to beg you brainless goats to open their nets. Forty-seven's tone was still flat, because it was just a machine that started another program: "Look at that road -- I'm going to go that way now." You can choose to get out of the way. You can also choose to stand in the way as a stumbling block, and then I will crush you and step on your brain. You can join in the fun if you want, so that when we're gone, the vultures will have fresh lamb kebabs to eat. ”

"Iron-clad miscellaneous

Bliss could no longer contain his anger, but the Centaur Detachment helped him do so. He probably never knew how lucky he was that he didn't pounce on Forty-Seven by the neck, because the flying stones of the millstone fell from the sky, and the sentries shouted in the commotion, "The giants are coming!"

Perhaps it is a problem left over from history. Centaurs have never liked giants, and are mortal enemies of evil giants. Fortunately, most of the time the steppe strips, which cater to the nomadic habitat of the centaurs, were not favored by the giants, so there were very few large-scale conflicts between the two - but the situation seems to be different today.

At least nearly twenty hill giants rushed out of the distant fog in a loose offensive front. They were dressed in filthy and smelly animal skins. With a slight hunched shoulder, two long, thick arms swinging at the sides, holding large wooden sticks and stones for throwing, resembling an enlarged orangutan. Three or four huge ugly figures stood out among them, standing out like Quasimodo in a monkey pile. But judging by their ferocious howls and their eyes of varying sizes radiating evil light, these guys who definitely belong to the Sixth Day Scrap don't have the good minds of the Bell Ringers.

Maybe that's not much - because it's a great force that drives this giant commando. A behemoth almost three times as tall as the other giants, the Alpine Giant.

"There's an old saying that says it's a bad thing. Forty-seven watched as the Centaur Warrior shouted and regrouped, fearlessly meeting the massive foes. Now there is no one to take care of these suspects.

"Don't look at the excitement, let's go. Morriel also lacks a good opinion of the indiscriminate centaurs.

"Wait, you can't leave!" a young half-sheep warrior bent his bow and shot an arrow, noticing the movements of Forty-Seven and the others, and was eager to come and stop them.

Bliss rushed over from the other side, four hooves of the wind, and knocked him aside with strong kinetic energy: "Boy!

So the mountain giant's flying stone struck him. Bliss could withstand a slash from the top of his head to his chest without dying, but the stone thrown by a giant tens of feet tall and weighing 50,000 pounds was still too heavy for him. The boulder rolled on the ground for a long distance, pushing Bliss against him, just before Forty-Seven, with splinters of flesh and stains of blood.

Kyro's "Ahh Forty-Seven and Morriel both stared at the flesh-stained boulder for a moment, then looked at each other.

"Kill these troublemakers. ”

The addition of Forty-Seven turned the tide of battle in an instant. The giant who could withstand a half-human sheep and even dozens of arrows without falling down was as fragile as a crockpot that had been used as a target for a slingshot under his cannonball, and even the mountain giant, whose physique was comparable to the giant forty-seven, was put on the ground after only a few more moves, clean and neat, as if Lu Ti had punched the town of Kansai.

"Why did you leave the mountains and come here? Don't tell me you want to go out. "Forty-seven stabbed a hill giant with the spear of a half-man, capturing the filthy greasy cheeks, and the reason why he was alive was because he was defeated by the centaur before Forty-Seven found him, and the boy was floating beside the metal man, chattering about the classification of giants and their habits, and other racial knowledge.

"Fire Eyes! Fire Eyes! Fire Eyes See the King, Fire Eyes Say, The King do!" the hill giants cried out inarticulately, and their cheeks were almost pierced by spears, and they did not dare to complain, for the huge head of their "Great King" with half of their face sunken in was not far away, and they were staring at him blankly with one of the remaining bloodshot eyes, like looking at a dead man.

The Giant's confession didn't save him from being with the King, and the enraged Centaur dealt with him quickly.

"Please forgive us for our recklessness, traveller. The old chieftain of the centaur walked up to Forty-Seven with a small bundle of arrows in his hands, they did not appear to be made of metal, but appeared to be the bones of some creature, and each arrow had two small fangs protruding from the center of its arrows: "These arrows were left by one of my ancestors...... Once fired, they automatically seek out the Evildoer, and each time they hit an enemy, they spawn a new arrow...... Bring them the wrath of justice like a torrent of righteousness. Hopefully, they will make a difference on your journey. Thank you again for your tolerance and help. ”

Forty-seven took the arrows and fiddled with them a few times, then pinned them to his waist - I don't know where to put them.

"Shall we go?" said Moriel, giving a cold salute.

The camp of the centaur was gradually left behind. The people of the steppe will feel victory and sorrow there, and a new funeral will be held.

"Beautiful Miss Mage, are you really going to Ribcage City? I beg your pardon, this is not the route I planned...... I think we'd better change directions, and I can take you to the friendlier and safer Gate City, where it's easier and less troublesome to get to the Seal City......"

"Smurf, come here. Forty-Seven Chong beckoned to Jacob, who was following Moriel.

"Oh, honorable Iron Warrior......"

Forty-seven's other hand somehow appeared at some point an extra short sword with a silver light flashing and a fluctuating blade: "Look at this thing." ”

The merchant approached with some confusion, and lowered his eyes to look at the silver sword in the metal man's hand. ――

With a flash of cold light, Forty-Seven swung his sword and slashed at his wrist.

Jacob couldn't dodge Forty-Seven's surprise attack. His blue face was a little pale, and his two thin lips were slightly twitching: "You...... You're ......"

The blade of the sword flowed through Jacob's hands like flowing water. The hollow in the blade latched his long, knobby fingers together, and with the slightest movement, the blade of the inner ring would cut them off like paper.

"With us, you have to get used to trouble. Forty-seven said coldly: "If you have any crooked thoughts because you are afraid that others will find trouble, then be ready and wait for us to come to your trouble." Understood? Understood, he nodded and pulled his hand out. ...... I don't move, don't worry my hands will tremble, worry about yourself. These hands can disarm a half-human sheep, and they shouldn't be missing anything because they're not careful, right?".