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The fierce shouts seemed to envelop the entire Notari plain, and the waving stone arm was by no means something that the elven scimitar could stop.

The two demonized elves were shocked by Hoffman's giant arm and flew out like swallows crashing into an airplane, apparently seriously injured, and the black-red blood spilled and splashed on the blades of grass with a scorching and corrosive sound.

Hoffman's surging body brought with it the smell of sand and gravel that had been soaked in sewage for a long time, and it was disgusting. It was hard to imagine that he had such swift movements as a leopard, and in one leap he actually caught up with a demonized elf who had just been knocked away by him.

Facing the body that covered the sky like Mount Hoffman, the demonized elf with snake-like eyes hissed. He threw down the twisted and tattered scimitar, his body suddenly lengthened, covered with scales, and his slender and powerful torso and limbs deformed and elongated the moment they hit Hoffman's giant fist, literally wrapped around his arm like a python, and opened his mouth wide- Not only the mouth, but also the entire jaw of the demonized elf was cracked from it, turning into a hideous mouth like a triangle, all the poisonous fangs hidden in it turned out, the forked tongue hissed, the demonized elf stretched its neck, and after a moment of searching, it bit violently on the little flesh of Hoffman's arm, and the pale and swollen skin like a dead man immediately turned black, and it was spreading rapidly.

But at this time, Hoffman, like the demonic elves, has turned a deaf ear to the insidious thing that kills people invisibly. The disproportionately small eyes of his massive skull stared at the serpentine demonic elf wrapped around his arm, as if he were just looking at a dirt dog biting the dragon's toes. He waved his arm and shook it, but it didn't work. The demonic elves surrounding his arms haunted him, and now he had only one thought, and that was to bite and inject all the venom stored in the venom glands into the enemy's body.

Hoffman bent his arm. It's as tight as when ordinary people exert force, the arm covered with stone armor suddenly expands in a circle, and the muscles made of stones move with each other to make a rustling sound, wrapped around his arm, and its power can lightly strangle a buffalo's demonic elf like an unbearable straw rope, and it is broken into several knots.

The demonic spirits scattered around the prairie in pursuit of the members of the Scout team turned their heads to look at Hoffman's location. The telepathic abilities between the demonic elves allowed them to understand each other's actions and thoughts at a certain distance without verbal communication, so the intense emotions of the moment when their companions died pierced their hearts at the same time—even Forty-Seven, who was their leader, felt the same way.

Anger, consternation, dazedness, endless emptiness.

Filgas bent his bow and arrows. She stared at the huge stone monster in the distance, the red light in her eyes skyrocketed, and suddenly her whole body was engulfed with her own killing intent, which was a memory that had been extinguished in the depths of her mind, a memory before the demonization, a memory of being powerless in the face of Argus's raging soldiers, and a memory of helplessness when she watched her companion being killed.

Three arrows with one bow, three arrows in a row. The sharp cone-shaped arrows made a terrible sound of breaking through the air, carrying the energy of fire, electricity, and acid respectively, and nailed them to the Iron Giant.

Clusters of arrows with elemental power caused a small explosion on Hoffman's body, the only result being a few pieces of his scalp with stone chips.

Hoffman bent down to exert force, and the cracks in the stone armor all over his body spewed out violent air currents, broken weeds, blood-soaked soil, and broken corpse fragments were all pushed and distributed.

A pair of fiery eyes quickly approached - the demonic elves, led by Filgas, surrounded him like wolves, and instead of attacking immediately, they quickly swam around Hoffman, waiting for an opportunity to tear him to pieces.

Invulnerable, but the arrogance of the elves would never allow them to retreat, they slaughtered, and then they were thrown around by the great force, and they were no match at all.

"All stand down!" and the roar struck into the mind with the irresistible will of the forty-seven—and then came the flaming comet that even the wind ignited.

Moriel, who galloped on his horse, pulled the reins, and the man who assembled the war horse stood up. An earth-shattering explosion sounded ahead, and in an instant, a huge fireball as dazzling as the sun passed, and a small mushroom cloud rose.

Forty-seven's heroic cannon!

The mages behind him who saw this for the first time were even more dumbfounded, if it weren't for the fact that the constructed war horses were not as easily frightened as living creatures, I am afraid that many of them would have rolled to the ground by now.

The cannon on his left arm was hot. If you switch to your right hand, you'll probably be more like the legendary leader of the madness, a character that Forty-Seven has always liked - of course, if you're going to be perfect, you'll have to find a way to transform yourself into a pistol or an airplane.

Forty-Seven gave up the idea of how to restore his shape-shifting abilities for the time being, because Hoffman, who had been shot by himself, was still standing on the melted ground.

"How dare you not die. The red fire in Forty-Seven's eyes shrank.

"I'm going to kill you—" Hoffman let out a long howl, his body had melted, but it didn't have any effect on his actions, although it couldn't be said to be unscathed, but the Half-Golem's immunity to magical energy also allowed him not to hurt the roots, but when Hoffman pounced, the lava splashed on the blurred face added to his fierce appearance.

Forty-seven recognized the whitebearded thief leader from Hoffman's voice, who had given him gifts.

"This is the second time you've survived from my guns, and it's irritating. Forty-seven muttered, and the cannon spat out two smaller fireballs in quick succession and flew towards Hoffman, as if he were ignoring them, his speed accelerating forward instead of slowing down, his arm swinging like a strong rod with precision, and the two fireballs slid down the sky in two opposite paths of flame.

In the blink of an eye, Hoffman, covered in fire and smoke, crashed into Forty-Seven like a landslide, and the two of them rolled down together, earth and rocks flying, and dust and smoke billowed down.

Forty-seven flipped with a flexible backhand, then jumped to his feet, the spikes on the giant fist in front of him stood up, and the steel spell on Hoffman's arm seemed to move, and that kind of power could completely collapse the city wall - Forty-Seven was infected by Hoffman's madness, he did not dodge, half-squatted and used his feet to exert force, and received Hofman's full force impartially.

Steel fist against iron armor, the collision of the two forces erupted into a deafening loud sound, the powerful air flow was refracted by Forty-Seven's chest to the surroundings, the wind and sand suddenly rose, overwhelming the sky - Hoffman frantically exerted force, he pushed Forty-Seven, who was like rooted in the ground, and traveled dozens of meters, and finally stopped.

And Forty-Seven, who had ploughed out a pair of deep grooves with his feet, still maintained his initial posture, and he brazenly took the strongest offensive that Hoffman was proud of.

"But that's it. Forty-seven raised his right arm and smashed it into the strange giant fist in his chest, and half of Hoffman's arm was smashed into the ground.

The black greatsword popped out of his right arm with a thud. Forty-Seven stepped on Hoffman's fist, and the five fingers of his left hand, which were as sharp as a sword, grabbed his shoulder, and Hoffman screamed in pain and raised his left arm to try to overturn Forty-Seven on his right arm.

Forty-seven kicked Hoffman's left fist with his left hand as the axis, and then slammed his left foot on Hoffman's face, his huge body shook violently with the powerful kick, and Forty-Seven, who turned around and landed, swung his giant sword at Hoffman's right shoulder and slashed at it, unloading Hoffman's right arm shoulder-to-shoulder.

Hoffman yelled, as if to vent his long-standing resentment and fear, and he raised his remaining left arm to grab Forty-Seven on his right.

The severed stone arm slammed into its jaw, knocking its massive body back and almost air. Forty-seven threw away the stone broken arm that had just launched a heroic attack, he opened his black wings and leaped, and kicked Hoffman's chest with the help of falling gravity, stepping Hoffman's body that had lost its center of gravity to the ground, and the stone armor that had just cooled and solidified was immediately cracked like a spider's web.

Hoffman twisted his body, barely tilting his legs at an angle and standing in a C-shaped position, his leg muscles solidified instantly, and then tried to stand up straight and then turn the situation back, he couldn't accept that this tin man, who was two full circles smaller than himself, could overwhelm himself in strength - Forty-seven, who bounced up with his strength, fell from the sky at this moment, and his hand was chained with a thunderous blow.

Hoffman's chest was so dented that his legs could no longer force his weight and forty-seven momentum, and they snapped in unison.

He raised his only remaining arm, trying to fight back or defend, the black greatsword passed through mercilessly, pinning his arm and body together, forty-seven held the hilt of the sword in his right hand and twisted the blade with his left hand, only to find that Hoffman's small eyes were always staring at him fiercely.

"What do you see?" Forty-Seven simply stood on Hoffman's sunken chest and stomped on his head hard, once, twice, three times, and the messy grass was also trampled by the piledriver, and Hoffman's head, and even the entire upper half of his body, continued to sink in, until Hoffman's remaining body completely sank into the ground.

Forty-seven pulled out his sword and put it away, and patted the stone chips all over his body by the way: "You should try Caile, in the next life." ”

Forty-seven flew high, and the cannon reappeared on his wrist, and the tremendous thrust from the explosion turned him into a rapidly falling meteorite, carrying the scorching heat and terrible impact destructive force, and he stepped on it with his feet together. At last there was a click, and the pile of rocks that had once been called Hoffman and the ground around him sank so hard that he was stomped into gravel by Forty-Seven, and now he was nothing.

Forty-seven bent his knees and did a few squats, like an athlete warming up before a race, and then looked up to see Morriel still sitting on a steel war horse a little farther away, staring at him coldly.

“...... Move, move!" The mages who were shocked by the battle scene only now remembered to cast their magic. They took out their spell-casting materials, held their staffs alof, and recited the words, and the colorful magical light weaved a dazzling circle of death.

Follow me?

Forty-seven jumped out of the Hoffman gravel pit, his whole body seemed to be burning with dark red flames, and the humid air at night even formed a mist because of the steaming, tightly wrapping the forty-seven in the middle, and the wind could not disperse. His eyes flickered, his mouth spewing a scorching breath, and he walked towards Moryl's group with his wings half-outstretched, unoblivious to the impending storm of magical attacks.

"It's more than a failure!" Morriel scolded, it was obvious that the tin pimple on the other side was mad by these fools' self-defeating actions!

Morriel didn't have time to care what those idiots were doing. It would be unlucky to be slashed by Forty-Seven indiscriminately like the hapless Custer, and though she was fairly confident that Forty-Seven wouldn't do that, who knows? After all, you can't expect a rusty construct to behave as you expect it to do at any time—and he's already surprised Morrill too much.

The Otilik stretch shroud formed with the murmur of Moriel. A perfect orb glowing with a pale golden glow appeared around Morriel and her constructed warhorse. No attack is effective against this stationary magical obsake, either from the outside inside or from the inside out. It's good that the miscellaneous fish are all dead, so as not to get in the way. Morriel looked at the surging magical energy outside and the firestorm that soon drowned out a qiē, and thought with some viciousness.

"You, me. "They looked at each other like this when they first met at the Mage Tower.

Forty-Seven looked at Moriel in the golden defensive cover, reversing the construction cannon on his arm like a western cowboy, constantly changing slightly between spinning back and forth, and the smoke after firing even formed a smoke ring with the trajectory of the gun, and he became more and more comfortable with the control of this thing.

Morrill glared at Forty-Seven. The latter began to scratch across the shield with his sharp claws, grinning at the cold sensation of touching the most brilliant crystal.

"Stupid. Morriel leaned forward slightly, and said silently to Forty-Seven, who was grimacing at her.

Forty-seven slapped his hands heavily on the shield, annoyed that his mouth structure was too simple to lip back like Moriel. He turned the muzzle of the cannon, rested it on the shield, and pointed the black hole at Moriel.

It can hold on for a while. Morriel estimated the duration of the spell, and the people she had brought with her had been wiped out by Forty-Seven, so maybe it was time for the fool to understand the current situation a little......

An ignorant flame missile erupted against the outer wall of the shield, and then had to scatter and wreak havoc because of an insurmountable obstacle - even knowing that the Otilik elastic shield could defend against a qiē attack, whether physical or magical, Morriel couldn't help but be terrified by the huge roar and the cascading fire cloud in that moment.

Forty-seven took a few steps back, disgraced.

"This turtle shell won't shelter you for long!We'll see!" he roared angrily, and Morriel buzzed inside. Strange to say, the shield does not block light and sound waves, but only filters out a lethal factor.

As if to confirm what Forty-Seven had said, the golden shield flickered a few times and disappeared like smoke.

"Hahahaha!" Forty-Seven rejoiced at the apt prophecy. The cannon retracted, and the spiral rifling on the inside of the cannon body rotated a few times: "Come on! How about trying again?"

Morrill raised his wand and struck Forty-Seven on the head, "Stupid, you really want to kill me!"

Forty-seven touched his head, not knowing if it was because the staff was too heavy, or because the red-robed mage in front of him had suddenly become fierce and vicious—it was very consistent with the Moriel in his memory—and he was stunned

Sure enough, it's a stupid. Morrill was pondering how to make Forty-Seven listen to him, when the distant sky suddenly lit up, and the suppressed thunder rolled in.

Morrill turned his head in horror, and found that the night sky before dawn was rolling in turbulent clouds, and in the direction of Welkertown, an extremely bright trajectory cut the sky like thunder and lightning, and came quickly.

Forty-seven also turned his gaze to that side, feeling the great power that had preceded the storm.

Morriel wasn't sure what Forty-Seven had become, but she didn't think he could deal with Yatu, at least not easily—not to mention the scheming Dagulas and the scheming O'Sullivan!

"Archmage Yatu is coming soon!you can't escape!" Morriel shouted, in fact the literal meaning of the sentence was second only to saying, "You are leaving."

Seattle?Isn't that the name of the place?Forty-Seven glanced at Moriel and decided to settle accounts with her later.

As soon as he flapped his wings and flew up, there was a shock in his body. It was as if a thousand suns erupted in his body, and the surging power rushed through his body like a tsunami of lava, and the new flame condensed by the power of the mysterious scroll swelled - it felt as if - like the power that suddenly appeared in the Hellgate Fort against the Flame Lord.

Forty-seven stared back at Moryl. The female mage was pointing at Forty-Seven with her fingers, sparks of magical energy pulsing at her fingertips, as if she was preparing some powerful attack spell. But with the strange and rough syllables that came out of Moriel's mouth, the fire in Forty-Seven's body grew and surged as if it resonated......

"You're screwed! Get out!" Morriel snapped.

It's not that easy. Forty-seven thought angrily.

The left arm, along with the cannon, began to deform - not only the left arm, but also the right arm. Forty-seven arms snapped together, and with the sound of metal snapping, the arms turned into a polymeric cannon had taken shape.

Bastard! Morriel the wolf stepped back, and intuitively felt that Forty-Seven was about to get into trouble again.

"Eon, baby!" Forty-Seven corrected his target, aiming at the pillar of light wrapped in a black thundercloud.

A bolt of lightning struck not far from Forty-Seven.

Golden snakes dancing in the dark sky.

"Fire-" The strong recoil pushed Forty-Seven back.

Blazing pillars of light erupted like volcanoes, and in an instant, they crashed head-on into the sky head-on.

Tear the sky and row the clouds.

The whole sky was blown up, and it seemed that the sunrise was early, and in an instant the grassland was clear. The shock wave compressed the air into an unnaturally massive density, causing the night sky to tremble under the twisted refraction, as if it were about to melt and collapse.

There was a faint thunderous roar in the sky.

Forty-seven is in a very good mood right now. He spread his wings and circled around Morriel's head as if to show off, shouting the equally classic line: "Decepticons, retreat!"