Azeroth Shadow Trail

Chapter 195 14. The Warlock's Second Lesson

"I shouldn't be here! I knew he had bad intentions!"

In the dark cellar exuding endless jewels, Kanrethad, holding the dirty magic packet in his hand, walked along the damp and cold ground of the cellar, while saying in his heart:

"I should be smarter, that guy is a stinky pirate! He's a bastard!"

He said so in his heart, but the skinny boy didn't stop moving forward.

Compared with the unknown things in front of him, he is obviously more afraid of the invisible Bu Laike beside him.

Although his feet trembled a little as he moved forward, the skinny boy kept taking deep breaths, and held the cold gold coin in his hand again.

And the warning barrier maintained by the two magic springs in front of him has been temporarily terminated by Bu Laike in the shadows with the skill of dispelling the trap. Since learning this skill from Garona, Bo Laike hasn't used it much.

Not very skilful.

If the Legendary Assassin was here, he could easily discard this trap.

He stands still.

The body is wrapped in shadows. Compared with the first time he sneaked, Laike's actions in the shadows now have no track to be found.

The high-level shadow affinity, coupled with the resident state of the covering shadow, allowed his stealth skills to break through to the legendary level when he was on the sea, and it was weakened when he was on land, but he still maintained the master level.

He only needs to continue to understand the rhythm of the existence of the shadow, and spend more time practicing, and it is only a matter of time before he enters the legendary level of stealth.

"call"

Bo Laike let out a long breath, took out the Hurricane Hunting Bow from the bag in the shadows, and quietly attached a sapphire arrow made by the snake man.

He narrowed his eyes and began to wait.

In front of him, the skinny boy lingered, and finally finished the journey that made him tremble with fear.

He expected the deadly trap described in the bard's tale.

What kind of ground cracked, revealing spikes, or walls collapsed, ejecting knives and axes and the like.

But no.

The people who hid these treasures here seem to be very confident in the defense here, and they are not worried that thieves will come to steal the treasures, and they have not set more stupid traps here.

"Why are these two things so old?"

Kanrethad came to the weapon rack at the end of the cellar.

He was just an apprentice sorcerer, and he didn't know anything about appraising treasures, and he didn't have much knowledge, so he could only judge the inside of something from its appearance.

On the weapon rack in front of him, the two weapons placed were incomparable from the appearance of the dozens of other rare treasures stored in the cellar.

How beautiful those babes are, each with a magical light.

But the two in front of them are very different in appearance.

That two-handed sword looked quite heavy.

It is made of some kind of gray steel, with curved lines on the blade, and a weird, small black horned skull with curved horns is inlaid on the hilt, and four bone spurs extend from the sword body.

The gauntlets were made to curve inwards, and the hilt was wrapped with torn strips of cloth.

It should have been around a long time ago.

The skinny boy looked at the sword carefully. He didn't think there was anything unusual about the sword. It looked like a heavy weapon, and he couldn't lift it.

And just now Bu Laike told him not to touch this sword.

Therefore, Kanrethad quickly lost interest in it, and focused on the sickle staff next to it. Compared with the two-handed sword, this sickle staff is more eye-catching.

Although it is also covered with dust and spider webs, its external appearance is much cooler.

About 1.5 meters tall.

It looks like a stick body made of some kind of weird metal, wrapped in worn cloth strips, with barb-like bony spurs extending from the end of the stick, and the head of the stick is in the shape of a straight-edged sickle.

The black steel is ground into a sharp blade, and there are barbs like bone spurs on the blade, like weird bug limbs.

On the other side of the blade, a weird, half-damaged head was fixed, and the remains of some kind of demon could be vaguely seen.

"This thing looks amazing."

Kanrethad thought to himself:

"Cutting off an orc's head would be as easy as cutting wheat. But that bad bastard Bu Laike says there's 'something' in it, and it's been hungry for hundreds of years.

do i really have to hold it "

The skinny boy hesitated for a moment, he looked back to the empty cellar behind him, he didn't see Bu Laike, but he knew that Bu Laike must be here.

The pirates would not allow him to leave until he had completed his mission.

After hesitating for a few seconds, the skinny boy put his hand on the dark scythe in front of him. He was ready to face the unknown.

But the moment he really came into contact with the scythe, he realized that he was still too stupid.

The second his fingers touched, he suddenly felt the consciousness of a terrifying thing falling on him, as if facing the pressure of a god, causing the skinny boy to collapse on the ground in an instant.

The fingers also loosened from the hot sickle.

But that consciousness was still examining him. After three difficult seconds, that terrifying consciousness lost interest in him, and the next second, there was a mournful howl from the scythe.

When the trembling Kanrethad used his hands and feet to escape, the sickle behind him was quickly suspended in the air without anyone holding it, and was released from the sickle in the entanglement of purple soul fragments. of evil spirits.

It was an unreal, tall eredar female demon!

She is dead!

What remains here is only a sad soul swallowed by the evil sickle, but before she died, she was the last holder of this cursed holy object.

Anyone who wants to hold the scythe must go through her challenge.

This is a cruel ceremony, and the previous holder of the scythe must be defeated to prove that he is qualified to control this sacred object.

"No one! Can take Ursales from me! Take Ursales!"

The devoured soul howled.

Her soul body is riddled with holes, like broken glass that has been reassembled. She may have been strong during her lifetime, but she is no longer as brave as she used to be.

After all, she has been dead for hundreds of years, and in these hundreds of years, she has never tasted a fresh soul.

Like a dried-up corpse.

As long as she can overcome the fear in her heart, she is actually not difficult to deal with.

"Ah! Get away from me! You monster!"

It's a pity that Kanrethad has neither the strength nor the will to face this dangerous soul in front of him.

The fourteen-year-old apprentice was so frightened that he kept retreating on the ground.

He could only watch that crazy soul walking towards him holding the sickle emitting purple light. Both the soul and the sickle were ready to taste fresh sacrifices.

She laughed wildly and raised the scythe, slammed it on Kanrethad's head, and shouted:

"I am Satyr! I am the Deadwind Reaper! I am the one who will kill Sargeras! Foolish human cub, give me your soul!"

"what!"

The skinny boy trembled from fright, but luckily he didn't lose his mind.

Seeing that the scythe was about to be cut, he hurriedly grabbed the magic jewelry that Bo Laike gave him, held the dirty little bag in his hand, and injected his pitifully weak magic power into it.

"crash"

A dazzling flash of lightning flew out of the skinny boy's palm, and hit the howling mad soul, knocking her back a few steps. Seeing the six magic bag in his hand take effect, Kanrethad was ecstatic for a moment.

But in the next moment, no matter how much he mobilized his magic power, the dirty little bag didn't respond anymore.

And the crazy soul who was pushed back a few steps felt the pain, and she rushed up with the sickle again, and slashed at the skinny boy who was no longer able to escape.

"puff"

Blood gushes from the heart.

Horrible pain overwhelmed Kanrethad Eber Locke, causing him to let out a scream and fall convulsively to the ground, knowing he was dying.

It's all due to that bastard Captain Boo Laike!

I must, I must

Uh?

The skinny boy whose heart was pierced was stunned for a moment, he felt the pain in his heart was rapidly weakening, he became numb, and his own blood no longer flowed out.

A force enveloped his dying body and pulled him back from the borderline of death.

He looked blankly at the ghost in front of him, and that ghost was also looking at him in astonishment.

Bu Laike, who was in the shadows, looked at the scene in front of him blankly, and the hurricane bow in his hand had been in a sniper posture for more than five seconds.

On the ghost's head, there was also a hunter's mark that only he could see was shining.

Sniper combat skills, proficiency +2.

Master the jump, master, master!

"whoosh"

A sapphire bone arrow flashing a tiny arc flew from the bowstring.

And Bu Laike infused it with magic power, triggering the special effect of the hurricane war bow. While a layer of cold frost splattered and frozen the sharp arrow, its sharp sapphire arrowhead was also entwined with a blade made of shadow.

At the moment of shooting, he crossed a distance of less than ten meters, and an arrow pierced through the chest of the ghost Satyr.

Ice, Lightning and Shadow three kinds of magical power erupted at the same time, and under Kanrethad's wide-eyed gaze, most of the ferocious ghost was frozen in an instant.

Bu Laike, who was in the Shadow Dance state, shot the sniper arrow and did not break out of stealth.

He took the time to throw the war bow back into his bag.

With his left hand, he pulled out the worn-out hilt and injected it with magic power, making the flaming long sword jump out like a flaming lightsaber. With his right hand moving, he rotated the Devil's Strike several times in the palm of his hand, and clasped it with his backhand.

Move your neck.

Shadow step, start!

"swish"

The expressionless pirate appeared behind the tall ghost, with his hands interlaced and launched a shadow attack, and between the sliding of the dark black blade attached to the flame jump, he struck seven times in a row within one second.

The special effect of the Devil's Strike exploded twice, tearing half of the ghost's neck.

Wearing the title of Spirit Hunter, every tear will bring pain to the soul, and amidst Satyr's screams, as the shadow suit shattered, Bo Laike raised his left hand and swept forward with his right.

Between the shadow-ridden whistling, a classic deadly saber slashed, allowing the flames of the blazing long sword to pierce the ghost's heart, and in the process of tearing left and right, completely cut the weak remnant soul apart.

"what!"

Satyr's ghost screamed and turned into a purple streamer, trying to flee back to the scythe that cursed the relic, but was caught by Laike.

There was a black smoke-like shadow wrapped around him, like an indifferent assassin emerging from the shadows.

He whispered to the struggling purple ghost in his opponent's heart:

"I know who you are, I know what you have done, and I also know that your shameful failure, the inheritance of Usakos, can only be opened with your demise.

Sorry, Satyr, we don't have much to do with each other.

But I must kill you.

This is not a personal conflict. "

"Snapped"

As the pirate's five fingers clasped together, the purple soul fragment turned into a stream of heat and melted into Laike's body amidst the ear-piercing wailing from his palm.

The pirate threw it on the Warlock class without looking at it, and then casually picked up the black sickle staff floating beside him.

At the moment when the fingers touched, he had observed Kanrethad's terrifying consciousness before, and he also observed Bu Laike at this moment, but the pirates didn't care at all.

He flicked his sickle and said viciously:

"What are you looking at! You loser!"

After leaving a word, the pirate bent down, pulled the undead Canrethad up from the ground, patted the dust on his shoulder, and said to the apprentice warlock earnestly:

"The six magic bag I gave you can randomly release twelve kinds of spells, some of which can help you escape from danger. But the one you just used is the most useless one among the twelve kinds of spells.

This is the second lesson I'm going to teach you today.

As a warlock, never trust luck.

Don't put your life on luck. When you embark on the black face of the warlock, you must be mentally prepared to be doomed.

Have you learned it? "

(end of this chapter)