Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

Fear is contagious, and stiff chains spread through the crowd. Sarah herself was in it - she had done a lot of preparation, and had done countless self-construction beforehand. However, when she did see the returning dead, she was inevitably stunned by fear.

Fortunately only for a moment.

The pistols fired again and again, and they were carefully maintained to live up to Sarah's trust. A shapeless mass of undead was pierced by bullets, and a large hole was punched out of its misty body. Sarah was surprised to see the pained expression on its face, which puzzled her.

Could these undead still feel pain?

She didn't quite believe it, but kept pulling the trigger. The recoil was perfectly controlled by her, and every bullet was deadly swift and precise.

Then she killed another solid thing, the damn thing that looked like a mix of a bat and a wolf. It happened to choose the most disgusting parts of the two creatures.

Raven swung the saber in his hand, which had been snatched from the Demacians during a raid. He boasted about it for a long time, no matter how much he exaggerated his heroism in the story. But that saber was real Demacian steel, forbidden, sharp, and tough.

"Fuck, Demacian stuff is so good!"

Her first mate yelled vulgarly, and the others didn't give in too much. They either shouted the name of the bearded lady, or the name of their lover or their hometown, or even shouted the name of a god that they didn't know where it came from. The strange name sounded like an evil god from a foreign land.

There are letters.

This thought flashed through Sarah's mind again, yes, there is faith - just believe, the purpose of these beliefs is to give yourself the courage to defeat the enemy in front of you, not to delve into whether the existence of those fairy tales is real.

All right.

She sighed softly, and removed two pre-prepared fragmentation bombs from her belt, which were specially provided by Zaun to increase their lethality. She lifted these two treasures that could even sink a ship, aimed at the black mist that was swept up from the other end of the pickpocket square, and threw them into it fiercely.

The explosion was so deafening that it almost made Sarah feel like she was losing her hearing. Shards of wood and rubble splattered in the rising flames and smoke, and some bone fragments were blown out of the fog. She was very satisfied with the result of the battle in front of her, and the sound of the explosion in her ears had not subsided, and because of this, she could not hear the warning from the first officer.

"Captain! Captain!"

Raven roared with his eyes split open, the pistol in his hand trying to aim at the ghost that was hovering over Sarah's head. It was like a piece of rag, with two sharp claws sticking out from both ends of the body, and even dark blue ghost fires flashed on it.

Another circle, it seemed to mock Raven's trembling arms.

The face hidden under the rags appeared for the first time. It was full of rotten minced meat, with dark holes in the eye sockets, and the wide open jaw opened and closed. It even made a gesture to Raven, which sent the first officer chills—they have brains? !

It rose high and charged straight down from the top of Sarah's head with a icy mist, and the sharp bone claws were about to pierce her.

The chief mate opened fire again and again, but failed to hit a single shot. This ghost is amazingly fast, and Raven closed his eyes in pain, unwilling to see his captain's death. She was the only captain in this ghost place in Bilgewater who really regarded the crew as human beings.

"clang--!"

The sound of gold and iron reverberated in everyone's ears. Raiwen opened his eyes and found that his captain had pulled out the long sword around his waist at some point, and was now battling the ghost.

He was overjoyed in his heart, but the movements in his hands were not slow at all - he really couldn't hit that damn thing flying around in the air before, but now it's different!

"Bastard! Try this!"

Raven pulled the trigger again and again, and in the smoke of the burning queen grass, bullets flew out.

Turn that thing into a hornet's nest.

"Hold!"

Sarah also made a rare foul language. You can't ask everyone to maintain elegant etiquette in a life and death situation. She put the sword back in her waist, picked up the pistol that she had thrown on the ground in a hurry, and carefully observed her surroundings as her subordinates gradually moved closer to her.

"What the hell, Captain, where did you get that bomb from? It's too powerful!" one of the crew members complained to her, digging his fingers in his ears.

"Zuan's stuff," Sarah explained briefly to him, then turned to her first mate. "What's the situation? Why didn't they attack?"

"I do not know either."

Raven answered honestly, while reloading his pistol, he said: "I've spent six soul-eaten nights, Captain, this time is the strangest one. Logically speaking, the group of fear knights It should have been dispatched long ago."

"Dread Knights? I thought they were just legends."

"Sometimes it is." The first officer took a breath and replied calmly. "Riding on horses, wearing iron helmets, coming and going like the wind, and slaying a dozen good hands with a single swing of a weapon—these are Dread Knights, and their heads are even more impressive."

He was stunned before he could explain how sacred their heads were. The fog that had been blown up by the bomb gathered again, revealing an unacceptably huge shadow. The mist slowly enveloped them.

"Damn..." Someone cursed in a low voice, Sarah didn't say a word, she fell into great regret.

Every year on Soul Eater Night, Planck made deals with the priests of the Baru to shelter the city.

Therefore, everyone must make offerings to him, and those who do not pay have no right to live. Still, the high amounts are not affordable for most people. For the commoners, you either owe him money and linger on in your own home with the Baru statue in exchange for the night of the soul-eater, or you simply die.

People who owed Planck money died horribly.

The reason why she wanted to kill Planck was not just because of her parents' revenge, but also because she wanted to prove that people could survive the Night of Soul Eater as long as they were united, and they didn't need to rely on Planck's bastard at all. However, now it seems...

The fog was getting closer, Sarah thought, not only did I kill myself and my crew, I pushed the city into a fire pit.

- Then, a thunder sounded.

"boom--!"

A huge golden lightning fell from the sky, illuminating everyone's faces. The brilliance that erupted at that moment illuminated the night like day, and the thunder was getting louder and denser, as if a mad giant was wielding a hammer to hit the iron felt. Raven's face was bloodless.

He didn't understand what was going on.

Actually, no one understands.

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He Shenyan sat on top of the highest mountain in Bilgewater, and the cold wind blew through his black robe, making the corners of his clothes rattle. It should be impossible to get up here. The cliff is too steep. Unless you can fly, it is impossible to stand here.

Well, he can fly.

The sight in front of him made him feel a little bit of emotion—seriously, he was used to seeing Astartes bombard each other with bolt guns, and use interstellar warships to fight with each other in space, and then come back to see these unique The melee combat with cold weapons of mortals has a different feeling.

At this moment, the pre-placed magic rune gave him a feedback. From the lower city of Bilgewater, a mother and daughter hiding at home were about to be kidnapped by the undead in the dark fog. He moved his fingers slightly, and a golden thunder fell from the sky, bringing the dead back to where it belonged.

A black wolf was pacing back and forth beside him maliciously.

"Why are you the only one this time?" He Shenyan turned his head and grinned at it. The black wolf was so shocked by the sudden smile that it almost turned into smoke and flew away.

After a while, it found that the hateful mage had no intention of attacking it, so the black wolf became more courageous. It came back cautiously, and said with its scarlet tongue: "The sheep has other business."

"Isn't that right? Together you are Kindred."

"Hmph." Black Wolf shook his head unhappily. "No, Qian Jue is the name of the sheep, but this is not my name."

"Really? What's your name then?"

"Don't tell you! Damn Mage!"

The wolf spirit made an unpleasant cry, as if laughing. He Shenyan glanced at it, surprised by the innocence of this god of death-in most worlds, the existence responsible for harvesting and extradition of souls would not be so active, but this one in front of him was different.

"Let me guess, it's most likely that you have a conflict with her?"

"We never fight."

The wolf spirit put on a stinky face again: "It's just that she doesn't need to come here. There are escapees everywhere, they don't need Qianjue's bowstrings, they only deserve my teeth."

"I didn't even watch you go down and kill a few undead."

"What do you know? A mage is a mage and will never understand the wisdom of wolves!"

This wolf spirit, who was not restrained by Qian Jue, seemed to be a little complacent.

It was no longer afraid of He Shenyan, and simply lay beside him, putting on a treacherous appearance, the black mist on its body even trembled: "It's not the time yet, the escapees are killed by mortals, and they will return to the same place. Going into that nasty black fog, I can't go out now. It's a waste of effort."

"Can't you just take them away?"

"We have to follow the rules."

Speaking of this, the black wolf stuck out his tongue very frustratedly: "The abominable master of the black mist took advantage of the loopholes, those undead are not really dead as long as the black mist exists, I have no way to take them directly. soul."

"You are too weak." He Shenyan said sympathetically. "Seriously, you're probably the weakest god of death I've ever seen."

"It's just that you are too strong!" The wolf spirit grinned at him. "Damn mage, as strong as monsters! Hate, hate! You hate as much as that dragon!"

"Dragon? Do you mean the dragon that is as bright as a star?"

"it's him!"

The black wolf tilted his head to one side unhappily, just missing the moment when He Shenyan shook his fingers and dragged Tianlei to the death of a large group of ugly undead. It said, "He hasn't come back to see me and Kindred for a long time!"

He Shenyan raised his head thoughtfully, the sky was dark in the dark clouds, and there were hardly any stars, not to mention the moon. But this was the case for mortals, and for him, it was another story.

He laughed intriguingly, soothing the black wolf softly: "Maybe it's not that he doesn't want to come back, but that he can't come back."

"I don't believe what you said, you don't have a word of truth in your mouth."

"You're thinking of me too badly."

"You're already so bad, aren't you? You brought the sun over inexplicably, and now it's alright, neither the sheep nor I can find any human beings that can be taken away!" The wolf aura roared at him in a low voice on. "The souls of mankind have been taken away by him!"

He Shenyan shrugged: "Is it possible that they wanted to follow him, not that he decided to take them away? Souls also have feelings and basic intelligence, maybe they just don't want to leave with the two of you. ."

"Anyway, what you say is justified..." The wolf spirit lay on the side in frustration and didn't move.

The next period of time was quite dull, He Shenyan deliberately continued to tease the black fog-like stupid wolf several times, but it was obviously not that stupid. No matter how the mage provoked it, it stopped talking.

In desperation, He Shenyan had to continue his work - he didn't care about those pirates with sins, and those who were kind-hearted and honest civilians were often used by him when the situation was critical. saved.

Like the black wolf, he is also waiting.

What are you waiting for?

wait for dawn.

The Night of Soul Eating will only last for one night. Although the undead can return to the world of the living, they cannot resist the mighty power of the sun. When the time is up, you must return. And then, it was his turn.

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Foyego was trying to think back.

Ah, her face...what does it look like?

Blonde? With a delicate nose and a full lip, every time he smiles with a dimple...? Do not. seems not.

Brunette? Brown hair? Her face... what does it look like?

The ghostly pale man sat on his throne without saying a word. The throne was charred and dilapidated, like a heart left after being burned. The blade of the king was inserted into the ground by him, the hard obsidian was easily torn apart like tofu, and the blade trembled slightly deep in the ground.

Just like his heart - moment, trembling. because of pain.

A kind of void took root in the depths of his heart. It stands to reason that what grows should fill the heart, but what grows in his heart is a void.

Foyego stared blankly ahead, and the warning of the black mist was deaf to him. Thresh is dead? He deserved what he deserved, a cruel jailer, an executioner, a lunatic, and if he were the king, Thresh would have been put to death.

Hecarim died too? Ah, it's nothing... It doesn't matter, there is never a shortage of powerful dead in the black mist.

Like him.

The king of the dead sat on his throne, his fingers lightly caressing the hilt of the King's Blade, a sadness that kept him speechless—Yonsold, where are you?

He got no answer.

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"His grandma's is really cool!"

Olaf gleefully performed a minor operation on a carrion with an axe, allowing it to open up and talk to him. Even Piltover's best surgeons can't fault it here, the carrion's entire chest was torn open by Olaf, and no matter what it was in life, it must be an open-minded man now.

It wasn't over yet, the berserker who jumped into the black fog and slaughtered wildly turned his head with another axe. When he slammed his head down, the axe made by Zhen Bing was extremely sharp, but he used the side-thick Zhen Bing to take one at a stroke. Unshaped smoke turned to ashes. He chanted Lockefa's name, not to mention how good he was here.

"If I don't die this year, I'll be here next year!"

Olaf's words were heard by the other people on the side, and they all followed the Freljord closely in the dark fog, daring not to leave him. There is no way, only he has the fighting power to be able to fight more than one enemy. With his 'help', others can have more hope of surviving.

But his words... still made many people drop their jaws.

A sailor, trembling with his sword in his hand, asked a Freljord captain who had come here with him with a mournful face: "Has he always been this crazy?"

"You still don't see much."

The Freljord was slightly older, with a grey beard. This is rare on the cruel ice field, and it may have something to do with him having left there long ago to go to sea to survive. As he reloaded his pistol, he said to the sailor, "Olav is famous among us. Most of the guys have heard his name."

"Why? Because he's a lunatic?"

"No. He doesn't even rank with us in terms of insanity," the guy said firmly, and then laughed. "He is of Rockfar, and the fortune-tellers in his tribe predicted that he would die peacefully. For Rockfar, this method of death is no different from a coward."

"and then?"

"And then he's just like that—running around, challenging the behemoths and legendary warriors, and he's made up his mind that he's going to die in an epic battle worthy of praise. So, you should now see why he said he's coming next year. already."

"Damn, is this not a lunatic?!"

Another man dressed as a harpooner in an open-breasted shirt interjected indignantly, and at the same time slaughtered a zombie hound that Olaf had missed and missed with the shovel in his hand: "We pay an annual fee. He tried his best to run and leave this ghost place, but he said he would come next year?!"

Olaf didn't bother to pay attention to their gossip, he heard it all clearly, but he didn't care at all - no one could understand him, not his tribal companions, not even warm-blooded people. He had known this from a long time ago.

Just kill it.

He laughed in a low voice, and for a while, he was covered in blood and rotten flesh and laughed loudly. Compared with the ghosts walking through the black mist, it was impossible to say who was more terrifying.

The sailor shuddered, and asked the Freljord captain in fear: "He can't kill the rise that even we will kill?"

"Don't worry, as long as you don't mess with him, Olaf is generally not interested in your soft-footed shrimp. Of course, unless you scold him in front of him."

"Do I look sick?"

"Like, very similar." The old captain kicked him to the ground and fired the pistol in his hand, killing several carrion-eating crows that appeared out of nowhere. They landed on the ground, and a few were even twitching. The captain lifted his foot over them and pulled the sailor off the ground again.

"Aren't you sick?"

He looked at the sailor very seriously, and said to him earnestly: "Everyone is busy repairing knives, looking for those things that Olaf didn't hack or see to kill, but you are here asking all kinds of questions, you Are you okay with your brain?"

The sailor's face turned blue and white.

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Not far from them, a hooded figure was slowly walking alone. It's not that the ghosts in the black mist have no thoughts about him, but that they really can't reach him.

A low hum flashed, and two beams hit one after the other, hitting a huge ghost horse, and the poor beast was quickly melted into a puddle of mud. Its soul rose from it, and it was about to be taken away by the black mist again. The hooded man took the lead and pulled out a silver nail from his arms.

Soaked in a holy spring, it is nine inches long and is engraved with runes of exorcism.

He pushed the silver nail against the spirit that was about to rise, and stabbed it fiercely into it. The pale green spirit dissipated with a violent whimper, and the hooded man took off his hood, revealing a dark face: "Don't resist, death comes for you. If I say so, now is the end. ."

A pendant around his neck was glistening in the dark.

He retracted the silver nail with a complex face, and his heart was full of loss - he had been searching for the evil undead for years, but he had never really found its existence. Soul Eating Night may be an opportunity, but he has roamed here all night, and it is still two hours before dawn, and he still has not found it.

Hammer stone......

He silently recited the enemy's name, without too much hatred in his eyes, just a kind of calm, a kind of terrifying persistence that will not stop until the goal is achieved.

"I will find you." He meditated, raised his hand and rubbed his pendant, slowly opening it.

With a slight click, the pendant box opened, and a slight light suddenly lit up. Lucian stared at the face on it in a daze, not even realizing where the light came from.

It wasn't until the pistol on his waist that once belonged to Senna lit up to the point that it almost burned him, and he didn't realize anything.

Lucian sat crumpled on the ground as if his whole body had been drained of strength. He raised his head to look at the sky, and a tiny light came straight towards him, forming a human shape in front of him.