Monster Hunting High School

Compared with the spacious and empty classrooms on the first floor, the space on the second floor seems much smaller, and the decoration and space are more separated. It looks like a reception room in a private club.

But there is no waiter or bartender in this reception room.

Some of them are ferocious specimens of various magical creatures scattered around the room, such as the Tanggula ice dragon, the Welsh green dragon, the Minotaur in armor, the unicorn wearing a saddle, the paws of dwarves, and the feet of giants. Eyeballs, whisks made of centaur mane, crafts made of murloc scales.

Many of the ornaments are still ‘alive’.

Nikita could clearly hear the wails coming from 'deep' in the bodies of those ornaments. This pain is like a rich spice, enriching the lichs' gradually drying up emotions.

Sir Ulrich led the guests deeper into the reception room.

Like a catfish falling into a lifeless sardine box, the fresh smell brought by the strange guests attracted the attention of many old lichs in the reception room.

They slowly turned their necks, a little red light bloomed deep in the dark eyes, and the joints made a clicking sound, like a rusty machine restarting and gears lacking lubricant turning.

Nikita lowered his head, held his breath, followed the captain, and passed through the tables quietly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the bowl held by an old lich - it was a pale skull bowl filled with bright red liquid, hot and bubbling. The old lich's hands were like slough. The skinned chicken feet were skinny, pale, and covered with horrific scars.

The banshee swallowed quietly, retracted her gaze, and stared at the captain's heels, not daring to make the slightest move. The combination of the wizard's rationality and the demon's impulse creates a group of crazy lichs, and the older the lich is, the worse his ability to control his emotions. Only by becoming a great lich and relying on the power of law to curb the madness can he survive. Maintain sanity in decaying age.

And these 'elders' who stay on the second floor of the mage tower all year round are old lichs with very high magic power, but not strong enough, and they are still very old. I rarely interact with people downstairs.

The young banshee was very doubtful that these crazy old lichs on the second floor would chop off her head just because she walked with her left foot first.

At the end of the reception room is a dark wall with rows of shriveled heads hanging on the wall. There are husband heads with four antlers; there are Gorgon sisters with snake hair; there are also Cerberus with three heads, and three dog heads, each with a bloody mouth, and the hair is coiled between them. Withered poisonous snake.

Of course, the most numerous of those 'hanging ornaments' are the wizard's heads.

Old wizards, young wizards, wizards, witches, wizards wearing pointed hats, wizards with totems on their bald heads, wizards with beards that reach the floor, wizards with half human faces and half bear faces, and so on.

In front of the black wall, there is a small altar.

The meter-high pedestal is divided into three floors and is in the shape of a pyramid. The pedestal is roughly decorated with several stone pillars, several sculptures that look like they were smashed out with stone tools, and a few dirty cloth belts. On the pedestal is a bronze tripod with three legs and two ears.

There is no cover on the cauldron, but there is a fire under the cauldron. The sound of gurgling water comes from the cauldron, as if someone is making tea.

"Didn't you always want to know the respect the lich has for the True Ancestor?"

"Now you can see it."

While speaking, Sir Ulrich leaned down and bowed in front of the altar, then took out a piece of dry bacon from his pocket and threw it towards the bronze tripod on the altar. The mouth of the tripod was like a monster that opened its mouth and swallowed the old lich's sacrifice in one gulp.

A grunting sound came from the cauldron, as if the monster burped after eating, or the sound of the monster's stomach digesting.

"May the True Ancestor bless you."

Sir Ulrich clasped his hands together and recited a sentence very devoutly, then stood up, got out of the way, and looked towards the audience.

"May the True Ancestor bless you!"

"The true ancestor bless you!"

The old lichs who were sitting in their respective seats drinking tea in a daze were forced to stand up, follow Sir Ulrich's sacrifice, and send their blessings.

At the same time, they also took out some sacrifices from their sides and threw them towards the bronze cauldron - the better ones, similar to Sir Ulrich, threw a piece of blackened bacon, and the worse ones threw a few pieces with ribbons. The bones of shredded meat, and a few old lichs who were more exaggerated, actually threw bugs at the True Ancestor.

Nikita could see it very clearly, it was the kind of bug with a hard skin and sour flesh!

The kind of bugs she couldn't eat when she was starving to death in the Sahara Desert!

Sir Ulrich turned around and showed his hands to the captain of the Mist:

"At this age, the lich's respect for the True Ancestor is about the same."

The old lich's tone was a little innocent, but his wrinkled old face was filled with a smile called ridicule: "...Many wizards were forced to fall, and they never had the honor to face the power of the true ancestor. So we Offer sacrifices to Him, and He will give us some psychological comfort... Young lichs need more psychological comfort, and the sacrifices may be more generous; older lichs, depending on the situation, don't need much comfort from others... so the sacrifices are just that. That’s a little bit.”

"A very fair deal. Don't talk about faith, just talk about eating and drinking, and everyone is still a monster."

Captain Misty's eyes fell on the black wall.

"A very beautiful collection." It sincerely praised: "Especially the head of the little wizard... As soon as I went upstairs, I could feel the unyielding soul in his skull, shining like a beacon in the storm."

Sir Ulrich replied meaningfully: "The younger the soul, the more powerful and powerful the impulse is, and it is as refreshing as a piece of crisp hard candy. The old soul is like brown sugar due to decay. Although the taste is rich, But it is easy to be manipulated and tastes sticky to the teeth.”

call!

The door at the entrance to the second floor was opened again.

A small group of young lichs filed in, led by a banshee with closed eyes, with the lich's 'work'-shaped mark printed on her eyebrows, and a large cloak covering her body. Following closely behind was a muscular male demon with his head hidden under his hood. He seemed to be holding a little girl in his arms, with only two calves exposed, shivering outside the cloak.

After the male demon, there are several figures, some are tall and thin, some are short, some are slim. The only thing they have in common is that they all lower their heads and hide their heads under their hoods, as if they are full of awe for this unknown world.

Along with the breeze in the hall, Nikita faintly heard the banshee asking the old lich at the entrance holding the skull and blood bowl who Sir Ulrich was in a very pleasant voice.

Just as Nikita thought, the old lichs were all bad-tempered.

The old lich refused the banshee's inquiry in an irritable tone.

Then its head was smashed.