Indescribable tarot cards

"Lord Bals, you really keep your promise."

Only then did everyone notice the black figure and hear his words.

Alice's face changed slightly, and she subconsciously took a few steps away from the Lord of Bars. She drew her long sword with her backhand. Although she did not point it directly at Bars, her eyes were already flashing with vigilance.

Siosande whistled contentedly, "It seems like he is also in a hurry?"

As he spoke, he casually stood in front of Sartre, and casually pulled Aaron back. Intentionally or unintentionally, he also looked at Bars.

"This is a trick of the cultists," Bals said with a stern face, and his tone was extremely serious, "I am the city lord of Leden City in the Kingdom of Algrant and a member of the Sogetos family. Why do I want to become a cultist?"

"Because you crave power, just like Tion." The figure laughed dryly.

Bals glanced at everyone again, "It's true that I long for power, but what I long for is power that can be controlled. We have already reached the gold level. Don't I still know what tricks you cultists are playing? "

The figure walked in slowly, with an inexplicable persuasiveness in his tone, "But we do have power, extraordinarily powerful power..."

"Starlight above, discern evil!" Sartre quickly grabbed a small handful of psychic powder and directly constructed the ritual.

The blue light band slowly hovered over everyone, but it reflected the black fog that was constantly billowing around them.

"Stay back, I'm afraid he won't be easy to deal with." Bals's iron arm shone again, the mysterious runes flickered, and the faint sound of gears could be heard.

Aaron's eyes flickered, wandering back and forth between the Lord of Bars and the cultist, not knowing who to believe.

There must be something wrong with the Lord of Baars City, but he can't find any evidence yet whether this problem is related to the cultists.

The words of the cultists are also quite persuasive, and Baars' various performances provide invisible evidence for his words.

If the Lord of Bals rebels...

In a small sewer, with unknown means of creeping-hand cultists and an iron-armed Balth, even escaping may become a luxury.

Who is right and who is wrong?

"I won't kill unknown people, what's your name?" Aaron simply shouted loudly.

"Me? You can call me Evil Hand Tog."

Tog's tone was a bit joking, and he seemed to feel that he had already convinced the group of them.

"Give me some time." Sartre whispered to Aaron. He rubbed his gloves secretly, and the spice powder rustled down.

With the spice gloves, even if he couldn't take out the spice box behind him temporarily, he could still perform the ceremony.

Alice stared at Bars closely, and slowly came to Aaron's side, the silver-white light on the sword flashing.

Bals's face changed, "You go ahead, go down this road, and find an exit to leave. Alice, Ed didn't come down. I guess he must have gone to your business. Get out of here first!"

Alice frowned, pursed her lips, and said firmly: "The Iris family will never leave their back to the enemy!"

"There is absolutely no room for you to interfere in this battle..." Before Bals could finish his words, there was a faint sound around him, as if something was approaching.

"Oh, it seems a little too late to leave now." Toge stood in the darkness. Although he still couldn't see his face clearly, anyone could guess the arrogant expression from his tone.

"Clear vision," Sartre whispered.

Aaron only felt an inexplicable warmth coming from behind him and flowing directly into his eyes. His vision was slightly blurred, but then it became brighter. Even the dim torch in his hand felt a little brighter.

"Glimmer vision, we may have to leave here." Sartre said quickly.

Aaron looked around subconsciously. Everything around him seemed to be a little clearer, and he was able to see the scenery further away.

So he saw the palm and held his breath.

Not far behind them, a few scattered hands blocked their way.

They may be large or small, but their blue-black skin and twitching fingers from time to time prove their identity.

Creeping hands!

Just as they were talking to Tog, these creeping hands came behind them.

Predictably, they never let them go easily.

This road is blocked.

Was the conversation just now delaying time?

Aaron swallowed. Although he was mentally prepared, he still felt a vague pain in his neck when he saw those crawling hands.

In front of them was a creeping-hand cultist and the Lord of Bars with an unknown attitude, but behind him were several creeping hands. Suddenly, Aaron and the others were in a dilemma.

Either choose to trust the city lord and break out of the encirclement, or help him kill this creeping cultist.

But the problem is that if they make the wrong choice, they will fall into a situation that is beyond redemption.

"These are still projections," Sartre said in a low voice. "The real creeping hands are refined from those extraordinary people above the Silver level. They are born with several abilities, and these are defective products."

Alice held her shield and rushed towards the Creeping Hand, not forgetting to shout, "Let's get out first."

Siosande coughed, his light green eyes flashing with stars.

As a silver-level prophet, he can mobilize the power of his soul to make some temporary perceptions and prophecies.

However, the results were predictably fruitless.

The two people present, Tog and Bals, have become major variables in the future time and space. Even with his keen sense of spirituality, it is difficult to find the direction in the dense fog of the future.

On the other side, Baers was already facing the cultist head-on.

At this time, the iron arm has changed its appearance under the operation of the gears. In the sound of the machine, the ferocious metal spikes spread wantonly, the cold light of the runes loomed, and the original human hand disappeared, replaced by a two-handed heavy hammer!

Under the dual action of machinery and muscles, Baals wielded this weapon like a toy hammer.

The fierce wind whistled far away in the sewer.

Although the cultists were wrapped in thick black mist in front of them, and could even entangle Baals' iron arms like snakes, they could only retreat in front of such a murderous weapon.

Every time the black mist collides with the runes, there will be several ripples visible to the naked eye, which will leave a deep mark on the wall.

"Let's go!" He clearly had the upper hand, but Lord Bars shouted loudly, "He's still stalling for time!"

Tog laughed and responded, "Baals, you don't have to pretend. Just like you did when you killed Tion, wouldn't it be easier to kill them directly?"

Thanks to ld ghost for the two tips~

Thank you very much for your support today~

Hmm, I just found out that the recommendation will last for a whole week...

However, I may not update more in the future. It will be more stable to update twice a day~

After all, it’s not good to have too many words before going on the shelves, but Keng Shen will work hard to save the manuscript and strive to get more updates when it goes on the shelves~

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