Crimson Servant

When they entered the snow-capped mountains, the surrounding temperature dropped again. The slush around the feet seemed to be biting the adventurer's toes through the boots. The cold wind that occasionally blew from the valley made a whining sound like a ghost. The warm clothes worn on the body seemed to have lost their effect at this moment.

John could hear the chattering of teeth around him, and when he turned his head to look, the sound was coming from Inlucian. The illusionist's expression remained unchanged. The sound came from his stomach, which was a ventriloquism trick of the illusionist. The illusionist is used to concealing his true condition, making it impossible to tell whether he is really cold now, or perhaps this is another way of fooling him.

"Lucian, do you feel cold? I can give you a blessing to avoid the cold."

Dalia said with some worry, reached out from her backpack and took out a spellcasting bible, and rummaged through the magical entries about dispelling the cold recorded on it.

John watched with slight regret as the priest removed his fingers from the handle of the one-handed hammer, knowing that using that equipment would make his voice disappear faster.

The radiance of divine power appeared on Dalia's fingertips with the guidance of her consciousness, and she moved the fingers that condensed the radiance to the illusionist's body with concentration. When the halo dissipated after touching the illusionist's body, the confused Dalia looked at Inluthian, who was no different from before.

Her blessing was unsuccessful, and the priest, who thought he was not good at learning, planned to try again, but was stopped by the illusionist.

"It's okay, Dalia, I'm not cold."

The magician on the side could see clearly that when the light of divine magic was about to be transferred to the illusionist due to physical contact, there was a blur of ripples that distorted the vision on Lucian's body, and the divine power escaped at the moment of contact with the ripples. Like water that cannot find a pipe and has nowhere to vent, it can only be lost in the air. The failure of the blessing is not the fault of the priest, but the problem of the illusionist.

If explained in more professional terms, the reason for this failure is [this is not a valid spellcasting target].

Maybe he put an uncatchable immune shield on himself, or maybe it was an illusion of Lucian's. John carefully observed the movement marks under the illusionist's feet, and was more inclined to the first judgment.

Francis, the team leader, suddenly paused at this moment. He turned his head and looked back and said, "We have an opponent."

John and Inluthian immediately bent down and started sneaking, and Dalia followed suit. The adventurers climbed up a slightly higher snow hill and looked over the obstacle to the other side.

Several layers of frames supported by giant logs in the valley support a two-person-high mine entrance. The semi-collapsed shape has been abandoned. There are several frozen beast skeletons placed around it. On the flat snow in the center, a three-meter-tall frost troll is beating the remaining part of the door frame with a wooden stick with ice chips.

This burly behemoth blocked the path forward for the adventurers, and that mine was their destination.

This monster is covered with ice-blue long hair, and its long arms hang down from the ground. It has sharp claws on the front of its four fingers. The giant stick it wields is as thick as a person. The tremor caused by the powerful strike can be heard even at high places where adventurers hide. Feel it.

Dalia swallowed and held the one-handed hammer in her hand.

"How are we going to deal with that guy? Lead it away?" she asked unconfidently, thinking that her small body was not even big enough to hit this monster.

Francis also fell into a unique emotion like Dalia, his eyes glowed, and his eyes met his partner.

"cover me."

The dark elf drew out his two swords, turned into a shadow and jumped down from the hill. His speed was so fast that even the falling snow could not touch the corners of his clothes.

The frost troll noticed the sudden appearance of the enemy. It stopped its game, looked at the little black shadow falling from the sky, and roared fiercely. It's not that this giant beast has never seen humans. It has enjoyed these tender and weak foods. After seeing itself, they will shrink back in fear and make meaningless resistance. No one has ever dared to face him.

And the shining eyes of the black-skinned food have been stimulating the few pride in the frost troll's mind, making it even more angry. With steps that made the valley tremble, and wielding its giant club, the frost troll charged towards Francis.

Francis quickly broke into the troll's attack range, and showed his ferocity in an instant. His scimitar drew a bloody scar on the troll's outstretched arm, like cutting paper along the arm. , the scimitar cut towards the troll's head.

The monster, who was in a bad situation, immediately resisted, waving its injured arm in an attempt to throw its opponent off. The brutal strength allowed him to succeed, but in the process it added many more wounds to its bloody arms.

Francis almost disabled one of his arms, and the wounds deep into the flesh were bleeding profusely, and the bones were visible.

The dark elves gained an advantage, but this advantage was not enough to determine the outcome. The powerful regeneration ability of the frost troll race had begun to appear. The wounds on its arms were healing. Except for some ice cubes stuck in the flesh, the troll's arms and It's just a little stiffer than it was a few seconds ago.

The self-healing troll showed its innate ferocity and violently swung its weapon at the dark elf. The situation was suddenly full of dangers, and the strong wind clung to Francis and brushed against his clothes.

Seeing all this, Dalia immediately planned to rush down to provide support, and then she was pulled back by John. The priest, who was a little confused for a while, did not notice the extraordinary strength shown by the seemingly thin warlock.

"John?" She looked at the warlock who was blocking her in confusion.

"Calm down, think about what you should really do."

Francis's battle with the frost troll was not normal. John didn't believe that the dark elves would fight a tall beast with no intelligence. He was letting the opponent go. Grik's anger would burn the opponent. This magic weapon could quickly destroy the regeneration ability of the trolls and would not give the trolls and dark elves a chance to fight.

The reason he did this was nothing more than to train the tacit understanding in the team and promote the growth of the young priest who was not yet mature enough. The dark elves often did this, putting themselves in danger became a practical teaching material, and the warlock was naturally willing to help Francis achieve his goal.

"We have to destroy the regeneration ability of the trolls."

"Use fire!" Dalia immediately understood what he meant. The young priest who had undergone combat training picked up the knowledge that had been forgotten. Perhaps even her mentor had never thought that someone would prepare such an ideal and safe teaching environment for her.

The tracer bullet accurately bombarded the frost troll with a high position advantage, and the sacred fire burned on its thick fur. The troll paused for a moment before taking the tracer bullet, and at that moment, John noticed the raised gesture of Lucien.

Amid Dalia's excited cheers, the frost troll roared in fear and fell before Francis's blade. Being able to be fought by several high-level professionals, this frost troll died a worthy death.

Before John could savor the sense of accomplishment as an excellent assistant, he heard the next teaching signal from Francis.

"John, remove the usable parts of it, with a knife."

In the snowy valley, a smile froze on the face of the sorcerer.