Half-elf Ranger

The dark secret passage space is very narrow, and only one person can pass through.

For Thorne, though, it wasn't much of a problem.

Just when he reached the fourth turn indicated by the girl just now, and was about to go to the hidden basement, he suddenly heard screams and a few scoldings from the depths of the spiral staircase.

He looked startled, and immediately judged that it was definitely Geert's voice.

So he didn't care that the destination was a pigsty, directly facing the stench, lightly stepped, hidden his figure, and walked quickly towards the bottom.

- "Shadow Cloak!"

After Thorne reached the end of the spiral staircase, he did not appear in a hurry, but turned on the Shadow Hand sect and disappeared into the shadows, observing what was happening in front of him.

After all, he is not quite sure about the surrounding situation, and he can't even judge the number and strength of the enemy.

Thorne looked at it intently, and found that the pigpen was supposed to be being renovated so that there wasn't a single pig around.

Then, he saw Gilt's figure.

Kneeling on the mud mixed with pig manure, with a rope tied around his wrists, he tried to stand up to relieve the pressure, but unfortunately his legs were also tied, making it all in vain.

There were three people standing in front of Gilt, and the one holding the lantern was an unshaven villain who was nearly two meters tall.

Another thug stood behind him, about the same height as his comrade, clutching a large, curved-bladed sword that gleamed dimly in his hand.

The last man in black, covered in black robes, was the thief he found secretly following Gilt on the street.

Seeing that Gilt was not in danger for the time being, Thorne was secretly relieved.

However, instead of acting rashly, he chose to silently observe what kind of hatred the other party had with this lecherous poet.

At this time, the villain holding the curved-blade sword pulled the rope, and the rope immediately went around the beam, and the other end was tightly tied to Gilt's wrist.

The panicked Gilt exerted force with the rope on his wrist like a taut violin string, and his knees on the ground were pulled off the ground.

Thorne, who was watching, found that this guy seemed to be silenced by some kind of spell, and he couldn't do anything but snort.

Although he really wanted to show up immediately to save him, he couldn't immediately judge the result in the surrounding environment, including the strength of the man in black. He could only temporarily observe the opponent's every move carefully before taking action.

Thorne saw the man in black approach Gilt, his face hidden in the hood had no emotion, and his eyes were extremely indifferent.

His tone was very calm, but he said to Gilt a little tiredly:

"You crappy third-rate poet, do you really think I admire you? You rubbish, scumbag, arrogant and arrogant noob, still trying to escape from my grasp?

I tell you, no one can escape from me. Now, our conversation isn't over yet, you clown and idiot, you're not willing to cooperate with me in such a respectable meeting, and now not only is there no respect, you have to answer all my questions! Am i right? "

Gilt, who was speechless, nodded vigorously.

The man in black showed a smile, he made a gesture, and Gilt screamed helplessly again, because the rope on his wrist was stretched even closer, so that his feet were directly off the ground, and his whole body was hung in the air middle.

Unfortunately, he couldn't make any sound.

Looking at Gilt's comfortable expression, the man in black showed a vicious smile, and he said playfully:

"Are you feeling unbearable pain in your joints, if it hurts badly, that's right. Now you know, I'm hanging you up just for fun, because I like to watch people suffer. Go on, be taller. "

Gilt gasped for breath, as if suffocating.

"Okay." The man in black finally ordered, then walked to Gilt, grabbed his collar, and said coldly:

"Listen, great poet. I will disarm you and let you speak, but you must raise your melodious voice unnecessarily. Trust me, you will regret it."

Gilt's eyes widened and he nodded vigorously.

The man in black gestured and touched the poet's cheek, contorted with pain, with his ring.

Gilt's jaw, palate and tongue regained consciousness.

"Now, I want to ask you a few questions, you must give me a quick and fluent answer, and know everything. But..." The man in black paused deliberately, and his thin lips burst into a cruel smile again:

"If you stutter, or hesitate even for a moment, if you give me the slightest reason to doubt, then... please look down."

Geert, who looked horrified, did so. He found to his horror that a short rope was tied to his bare feet, and the other end was filled with a bucket of lime used to decorate the pigsty.

"I think you should understand very well, if I continue to lift you up." The man in black explained patiently to Gilt:

"The bucket will also be lifted up with you, and then with a 'bang' you're covered in white ashes like a plasterer after a busy day.

No, no, you're worse than a mason, because your handsome face will rot and your hands will lose consciousness. From then on, I doubt very much how you are going to play the harp. I'm really skeptical, so I'm sure you'll speak up, am I right. great poet? "

Gilt nodded again with all his strength.

"You have to understand." The man in black showed a calm smile:

"I can easily tell if you're telling the truth or not, and if you dare to fool me, I'll see right away. I suggest you weigh every word you say carefully, scumbag. Let's not waste time, let's start now."

The man in black pondered for a while, and said slowly, "Tell me, why did the ranger who was with you suddenly leave Waterfall Town? Where is he going? What is his purpose?"

"I really don't know..." Gilt said weakly: "Suna is above, as you can see, I'm just an ordinary poet, how could I be related to him, and how could I know his purpose? What is it?"

Are they targeting me?

Hearing the conversation between the two, Thorne's pupils shrank suddenly, he looked around carefully, and after confirming that there was no ambush, he slowly and slowly touched the position of the sword hilt.

"What? Did you not hear a word of what I said just now?"

"I said, I said!" Gilt saw the man in black gesturing at the villain holding the curved-blade broadsword, and felt the rope tighten again, and quickly wailed: "I only know a little bit, but I will take my I'll tell you everything I know."

"Go ahead, tell everything you know." The man in black motioned the villain to stop and stared at Gilt coldly.

"This ranger..." Gilt panted and said, "He plans to go to the Zhanzheng Academy in the middle of the continent and go there to practice for a while. That's all I know."

"You speak too fast, great poet, you answer too fast." After listening to Gilt's words, the man in black smiled ominously: "You are cunning, but not careful enough, a ranger even ran away Practice away from the wilderness, do you think I'm an idiot?"

Gilt glared at the man in black in anger and despair.

"It seems that you won't speak easily without teaching you a lesson." The man in black gestured towards the villain holding a curved-blade sword.

The villain gave the poet a cruel smile.

Just as he was about to make a move, a pale blue light suddenly flashed across the dim pigsty.

"Uh…"

The two villains touched the deep wounds gurgling on their necks, their eyes widened in despair, and fell on their backs in the mud mixed with pig manure.

Just when Thorne's figure wrapped in blue and white sword light flashed in front of the man in black, the man in black's body instantly disappeared out of thin air, making his deadly attack directly unsuccessful.

Thorne held a sharp sword and stood in front of Gilt, looking intently to feel the subtle flow in the surrounding air.

- "Desert Wind Faction (Strike Skill): Flame Star!"

Suddenly, a bright white flash from the sword in Thorne's hand illuminated the darkness.

Gilt saw Thorne in the black cloak with the help of the light. Before he could be happy, his eyes stinged and he couldn't see anything.

"what!!"

The man in black who failed to raid from the shadows closed his eyes subconsciously, roared backwards, slammed into the wooden wall of the pigsty, smashed the wooden board, and sat on the ground.

Thorne locked onto the figure of the man in black and chased after him.

The brilliance illuminated the pigpen again, this time with a deep blue flash, the light source coming from some oval-shaped object that suddenly appeared in the air.

The man in black jumped up from the ground full of pig manure, got into the teleportation formation that appeared out of thin air, and disappeared.

The teleportation circle began to dim.

- "Desert Wind Sect (Strike Skill): Flame of Young Dragon!"

However, before he completely disappeared, Thorne swung his long sword, and a conical flame instantly wrapped the portal, making the pigsty red again.

"what!!"

A muffled sound seemed to enter Thorne's ears from far away, more like a scream.

Unfortunately, to his disappointment, he did not receive a prompt to gain experience points and practice points.

Then, the portal disappeared completely, the fire went out, and the darkness engulfed the pigsty again.

"Thorn!" Gilt, who had regained his sight, wailed loudly: "Come and save me!"

"Shut up! Do you want to attract everyone here?"

Thorne glanced at a group of bright torches coming towards here not far away, and with a sharp sword in his hand, he lifted Gilt like a chicken, jumped, and disappeared into the darkness.