87_87643When Kant's troops marched into the Uther tribe, the natives here seemed to have become warriors and mages of the Agusti ** team, but there was no shadow of a night elf, neither alive nor dead, and there was no sign of a battle, if it were not for the nervous-looking warriors who were heavily armed and on guard under the swaying shade of the trees, it seemed like a military club was opening a large faction.

"What's going on?" Kant stroked his goatee and looked around, seeing that Dagulas was looking at him innocently not far away, as if he didn't know anything about this unusual situation: "This is the lair of the Night Elves you found, how come you can't see any elves?"

"I only said that I found their settlement, and I didn't say that I found a hiding place. Dagulas sighed, completely frustrated and helpless - it seemed that Kant had really met his opponent this time.

"It can't be a trap, is it? The Night Elves who have always regarded the forest as a sacred cradle would use this trick?" Kant looked around, there were dark forests everywhere that seemed to hide I don't know how many monsters were hidden, and he regretted that he had been too aggressive.

"Not really, rest assured, Your Excellency Kant. Our army has taken over the entire area, and I don't think the elves have that much to surround us. O'Sullivan suddenly appeared as if he had fallen from the sky.

"Moreover, we got what we wanted, and we took over so many forests, and His Excellency Kant really commanded it!" it was Moriel, and the strange constructs bound by the Rainbow Binding Technique also floated behind her towards Kant's side.

The three of them looked at each other and smiled, and it seemed that the plan was going smoothly.

Kant also smiled, smiling sadly, and the first to react was Moriel, watching Kant slowly open the door of the space behind him, knowing that they still underestimated the Supreme Council. It's also too much to underestimate Kant.

The five archmages streamed out of the door that radiated white light, even the old Kiscain looked much more flexible than usual, and O'Sullivan's expression suddenly became solemn, only Dagulas was still smiling heartlessly.

"I told you a long time ago that this kind of plan, which is not even comparable to the IQ of Az Cat, will not succeed!" Forty-Seven Breaking Free fell from mid-air, and all the joints of his body were flipping and reorganizing as he fell—his hands were still folded together to form a thick cannon barrel, and at the same time his shoulders folded and disintegrated, and he shrugged forward, and suddenly moved to his chest. Together with the chest cavity that opened like a chest particle cannon, it formed a container like a gun chamber, which was attached to the muzzle formed by the arms, and the black steel wings continued to fold and retract at the same time, and at the same time cracked and differentiated, and finally turned into a turbine-like thing composed of sixteen pages of pulp fan, covering the back of the barrel, and as the turbine continued to accelerate and rotate, the energy from unknown sources was constantly drummed in the barrel, until the steel cannon gradually showed an imperceptible dark red.

When Forty-Seven fell to the ground, his feet, which had been transformed into a gun mount, were tightly clasped to the ground, and after standing in a lunge, a fused cannon appeared in front of everyone.

The red in the bore of the converging cannon shrank sharply. It seemed to be completely extinguished for a moment, and then the fused beam pouring out of the cannon shot straight at Argus's archmage camp.

A protective shield surrounded the six archmages, and looking at the way each of them was chanting, it turned out to be a protective spell launched by six people at the same time!

The huge fireball exploded the moment it touched the glow wall that enveloped the six archmages, and the light of incandescent gray, green, purple, red, yellow and orange exploded and spread, and the smoke cloud was melted and the convective air rushed high, and even made a cauliflower-shaped burst cloud appear in the sky above the sleeping forest, and Forty-Seven jumped out with the force of recoil before the fire wave spread and swept over, he turned into a human form in the air, and grabbed Moriel's collar. Re-unfurling his huge wings, long tail flames erupted from the soles of his feet and on both sides of his waist, almost at the speed of sound over the heads of the stunned Argus soldiers behind him, and in the blink of an eye, the fireball devoured the poor soldiers who were swept over by the wave of qi brought by Forty-Seven and followed, and it seemed that except for the six archmages who were inevitably unhindered, the others in the blast range could only ask for more blessings.

Forty-seven flew far away with Morrill in his arms. Three waist-thick trees had been broken on their backs and showed no signs of stopping, and as they approached the fourth, a portal had already taken shape beside the tree.

The thruster went out, Forty-Seven vibrated his wings to stop retreating slightly, suddenly stretched out his hand and grabbed the trunk, his body turned and sent, and Morriel in his arms went straight to the portal, Moriel looked at Forty-Seven with his eyes wide and incredulously, and the latter once again made a grimace that he had never been very good at.

"So, let's get started. It's my plan!"

Moriel's eyes turned white, and Forty-Seven's comical face gradually dissolved into this white light, and when Morriel got used to the gradually fading environment, he found that several Night Elves had silently surrounded him.

"Miss Moriel, I'm Uther, the tribal leader of the Night Elves, and Forty-Seven has something for you to leave you. The leader stepped forward with an old Night Elf.

"What, what

"If you don't enter the tiger's den, you can get the tiger. Uther muttered in strange language, and then stared at Moriel's equally confused face with a puzzled expression.

“......”

“......”

What do you mean?"

“......”

“......”

"How. I thought, you know......"

Deep beneath the ground of the Tower of the Seven Sins. Inside the huge underground complex with a depth no less than the height of the Tower of the Seven Sins, countless supports, rooms, stairs, and corridors have turned this place into a huge underground labyrinth, and if it were not led by someone, I am afraid that it would be enough to walk out in a lifetime.

Forty-seven walked around in mid-air, watching a group of mages with blank expressions doing all sorts of strange things on the real stage, and it felt as if Forty-Seven had returned to the days of watching the old mage do real yàn on the swampy mage tower - although there were a few mages here.

Singh looked at the cube cage suspended above him, which consisted of six transparent protective walls that emitted a faint glow, and the trapped beast in the cage, which looked more like a tourist.

"Hey, old man, what are you looking at, haven't you seen a handsome guy?"

Singh lowered his head and continued to draw dots on the pages of the magic book in front of him.

Forty-seven watched as a mage opened the wheel of the control pipe and kept pouring the so-called dark green liquid into a huge container: "You can't be trying to cook me." It's going to lose big teeth, but I think it's a problem if your boss has teeth or not!"

At this moment, Kiscain walked in step by step along the hanging corridor through the iron door on the side of the test bench, and as if he had heard Forty-Seven's speech, he suddenly cracked his mouth, revealing a mouthful of white and neat teeth.

"Fake!" Forty-Seven immediately debunked Kiscain.

Kiscain sat down beside Singh with a bit of a disgraced face, "Aside from the core, the power of a long-dead old god, and the breath of purgatory, there are other secrets in this thing that we don't know yet, haven't you noticed?"

"Nothing other than the core energy scattered within him and the contents of Lum's magic notes, nothing else has anything to do with me. Singh closed the book: "All this time, because of the broken pages of Lum's magic book. And although there is no damage on the outside, it always seems that the core of something that is missing has become the most serious obstacle in the research, you don't know how hard we have worked to get Moriel, but even so, there is still a long way to go to the results I expected, and now both the core and the method are close at hand!"

"So, have you found a way to access the contents of the pages and strip away the core energy?" Kiscain looked up and saw that Forty-Seven was opening his mouth to him. Showing a circle of sharp teeth that looked a little shadowy as they rotated at high speed, after suddenly stopping, Forty-Seven stretched out his finger and tapped on one of the teeth, and a crisp metal impact suddenly sounded and disappeared in an instant: "I don't think this thing will work well with you." ”

"This is really an urgent problem that needs to be solved right now. Singh stood up, as if he was about to leave: "However, I believe I have a little idea of the only way to go, but ......"

Singer didn't finish his sentence, but turned and walked towards the iron gate.

"A mage who has lost his curiosity will not live long. Kiscain's voice was low, as if he was just saying to himself, "If you're going to fail." Singh, then that's the only reason. ”

Singh disappeared beyond the stone gate with unhindered steps.

"It's hard to believe, Commander Morriel betrayed the Supreme Council, betrayed Argus, it's like I'm in a dream!" Hunter stood beside Sayyas, who was once again bedridden.

"What's so strange about that. Sayes visibly felt a little impatient: "It should be strange why I am lying on the bed with injuries every time, and you are sitting next to me unharmed." Damn, I didn't get better from my injuries last time, and I broke my leg again this time!"

"You should be content, do you know how many people died on the spot?" Hunter picked up the flask that was placed next to Sayers' pillow, unscrewed the lid and took a big sip: "I still don't believe that Commander Morrill has defected, although I have basically seen it with my own eyes......"

"Shut up!" Sayes looked around nervously, but fortunately his bed was in the corner of the large hospital room, and no one seemed to be paying attention to their conversation: "It's good luck that we weren't treated as co-defendants! Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to sit here and drink and give me back the jug, stupid!"

Hunt slapped Sayes without the slightest annoyance, and it seemed that he was really hit by his depressed appearance.

"Listen to me, Hunter, what is your first priority in life?"

"Safety first. ”

"That's right, safety first, if you don't take care of your own life. Who's going to take care of you!" Sayers didn't screw the lid of the flask on, but aimed it directly at his big mouth: "And you've seen it too." Moriel is in the same league as that black demon, and they are the murderers of Shante and countless Argus, so you don't have to worry about it at all!"

"How can you not be troubled, she is the enemy of Argus, but she is so kind to us......"

"Idiot!"

Both of them looked out of the window next to them in astonishment, because it was not Sayers who spoke, let alone Hunt. but stood outside the window Dagulas.

It seems to be the sixth floor!

But the two of them didn't have the courage to poke their heads out to see if Dagulas was stepping on something or casting some kind of floating spell - what if she slapped her downstairs, Dagulas would not be the slightest surprise to do such a thing.

"What kind of favor Morriel has done to you, and what kind of obsession you have made you so obsessed!" Dagulas scolded sharply.

"No, Commander Dagulas, this kid is not sensible, don't bother with him!" Sayers immediately explained.

"The former governor has just fallen into trouble, and he is talking bad about people behind his back, what the hell does it mean!" Dagulas continued to scold sharply.

"No, no, Commander Dagulas. This guy has a fever and his head is confused, don't bother with him!" Hunter immediately explained.

"Hmph!" Dagulas sneered and pushed his glasses, this action was nothing, but it looked extremely weird and strange when it appeared outside the window on the sixth floor, which was originally only used for ventilation and viewing: "Look how I clean up you two!"

The two of them once again found that in the face of such a commander, it was really a bit of a saying that the sky should not be called the earth.

With no one to pay attention to him, Forty-Seven looked through the transparent walls of the Magic Cube Prison at the busy mages below, and Kiscain, who seemed to be asleep again on the central test bench.

Forty-seven sat cross-legged in mid-air, reaching out to shoot Kiscain's gray-haired, wrinkled head - this was not the kind of child game where he stretched out his index finger and aimed at the other's mouth, "snap", "snap". Because Forty-Seven's hand was literally deformed and assembled into the shape of a gun, and as he spat out an onomatopoeia in a strange voice, the barrel formed by the ends of his fingers also spewed out a small cone-shaped ball of thunder fire.

The bullets of thunder fire refracted repeatedly in the prison, drawing a brilliant trail like a firefly, and no matter what, they could not get out of the invisible barrier around them, and finally returned very helplessly and hit the back of Forty-seven's head.

Forty-Seven touched his head, razor-like metal fingers slashing across the armor-like skull, making a piercing sound of metal grinding.

The level of these Argus archmages is really not covered, and this giant magic cube that can perfectly reflect any attack alone is many times stronger than the one Morriel once played with. And from the time the archmages worked together to trap him in the Sleeping Forest, the cube showed no signs of weakening and dissipating at all, which was unique in Forty-Seven's meagre magical knowledge.

The large bath pool below looked almost ready, and the dark green cloudy liquid of unknown composition filled most of the container, and bubbles bubbled out of the surface of the oil. The magic lights in the real room shine on the bubbles, reflecting the greasy colors.

The mages around the large container were nervously carrying out the final adjustments, they hung the magic spar into the solution and soaked it for a while, then lifted it up to carefully observe the color of the spar, extracted some liquid with a glass test tube, added various reagents to heat and observe, used a quill pen or charcoal pen to record the number on the paper, and finally summarized it and analyzed it by the senior mage in the real room, and then opened a few of the pipes that looked like the eye of a needle on a water cup, added the materials they thought should be added, cast the spells they thought should be cast, and changed the composition of the solution-- 47 thinks. If this continues, the stinky water in the pool will soon overflow.

Occupying the pit and not the ground, the old man of Kiscain finally reacted. He rubbed his old eyes—the report next to him was almost as thick as a book, but Kiscain didn't have the slightest intention of reading it, but took out a monocle from his bosom with a shudder, held it in front of his eyes, squinted his eyes, and leaned slightly over to look at the large pool full of green soup.

After a few moments, he leaned back in his chair, first holding out four crumpled fingers, then slowly tucking them away.

The surrounding mages noticed the actions of the old mage, who was the only one in the council who could compete with Singer Chairman, and they all stopped what they were doing, waiting for the old mage to have some instructions. Although Kiscain usually looks demented and stupid. It seemed like he was messing around with his age and status, but in reality no mage dared to despise him for that - not to mention that Kiscain wasn't really stupid. It's that he's really stupid, as long as he's still a mage, and those vast spells and knowledge in his head are still there, it's enough to turn him from a fool into a genius.

Kiscain lowered his hand and seemed to be asleep again.

The mages in the real room looked at each other. What does that mean? In this kind of large-scale magical reality, Kiscain's gestures represent countless meanings -- four, two, do you add two percent or subtract the fourth ingredient, or do you add the second ingredient four minutes later?

Kiscain closed his eyes and paid no attention, and the mages did not dare to ask. So they got together and studied it for a while, trying to figure out what Kiscain meant, and finding what they thought was the closest thing they could.

Then the results of the test were a relief for the mages.

If it didn't, this pool of expensive magical acid would be in vain—they couldn't imagine how they would face the wrath of Speaker Singh