The Legend of Fatality

The shadow drifted closer. The night owls waited for them, watching their kind faces and listening to their soft whispers. When they call his name, his shoulders tremble happily.

They were close, forming a circle around him, reaching out to him, he very much welcomed this invitation. His arm slipped over his face, almost touching him, trying to touch him. He looked from this face to the other face, staring at the eyes of his savior, and every shadow looked back at him, and every shadow guaranteed that he would be happy and peaceful.

One hand almost wiped his face. He felt as if there was tearing pain, but he was not sure. The owner of that hand assured him that he would no longer feel pain, after he became one of them.

He wanted to talk and wanted to ask them many questions, but suddenly it seemed less important and so insignificant. He just needs to give himself to them, and then everything will be fine. He turned to face everyone and let himself go to everyone, waiting to be taken away.

When he turned around, he was looking for Leonor, wanted to take her with him, and wanted to share peace and tranquility with her. The memory of her flared up in his heart, distracting him, even though he whispered that he should not think about her. He searched the hillside, glancing at the dark rock gap.

Faint light appeared in the sky, dawn came. Above the black gap between the trees was the pale sky, and he had reached the edge of the landslide area. He could not see the figure of Leonor. The shadow whispered firmly to him, calling his name.

Leonor's memory burned brightly in his heart. The sudden, suffocating fear burned in his heart, burning the whisper in his heart to ashes.

"Kevin!" He screamed.

No one answered.

Black arms, dead arms, opened his arms to him. The shadow's face waved like a wave of steam rising from boiling poison. A rough voice called his name. He took a step back and left them, confused.

"Kevin!" He screamed again.

Stretched his arm towards him, and made him feel tear-like pain before touching him. He took another step back and left them. But this time, the black arm is behind him. Stretch his arms and push him.

He looked around at Leonor's figure and was at a loss. This time, the pain made him completely awake. When he realized what he was standing there and what he was doing, fear immediately penetrated him.

Then his anger broke out.

After the sword was pulled out, the burning anger from the magic swallowed him, and he waved an arc to the shadow. The chopped shadow suddenly lighted up, and its figure spun up as if it was blown by a whirlwind, making a howl before smashing, and then disappeared without a trace.

More shadows pounced on him. The blade cut them, but there are still shadows approaching continuously, as if they have an infinite number. When he had just cut down the shadow on one side, the shadow on the other side forced him again, so close that he could feel the tearing pain before he turned and wielded his sword, even though he had not touched him.

Night Owl spent a moment wondering if they would eventually touch him, would he feel pain, or die in the flash of contact. He walked away from the landslide on the ridge and waved his sword as long as he could. He took another step forward, chopping them down angrily as he walked, his blades roaring nonstop.

ァ 新 ヤ ~ ⑧ ~ 1 ~ 中文 网 ωωω.χ ~ ⒏ ~ 1zщ.còм

The night owl was standing, his feet soaked in the sweat in his boots, destroying the shadow as quickly as possible. His arm was sore, his back sore, and his head seemed to be hit continuously by a sledgehammer.

There is no place to escape, he was forced to stand there and try his best to resist, but he knew he could not persevere like this forever. Screams and howls filled the air, and the shadow seemed very willing to make intimate contact with his blade. A large group of shadows rushed towards him quickly, and he had to step back to win the sword.

The black arm appeared behind him again. The weird faces behind his arms protruded out of the figure, and made a disgusting growl. There were too many shadows in front of him at the same time, so that he could not leave the ridge. The only thing he can do is stay where he stands.

The pain caused by wielding the sword's arm made him more tired. He knew that if they plunged enough or fast enough, he would be pushed into the pit of death and fall into hell. He waved his sword numbly and endlessly.

Anger has become panic. The arm was sore because of the long sword swinging vigorously as if it were burning. It seems that the purpose of the shadow is to exhaust him with a disparate number, simple and effective.

He realized that the original idea of ​​choosing to draw a sword was correct, which would hurt them. But there is no choice. He must use it to protect her.

But he realized that there were only "them" now, and Leonor could not be seen anywhere. Only him. While dancing the long sword, he wondered whether she had encountered the same situation, whether the shadow also tempted her in a low voice, trying to touch her and embrace her in his arms.

She has no sword and magic to protect herself, which is exactly what he said to do. Rage broke out again. Leonor's thought of being taken away by the shadow and brought into the pit of death again roared his anger ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ The magic attached to the long sword in his hand echoed high, waiting for the master to call. The night owl cut a path in the shadow with the revenge of revenge.

Hate, burning into a scorching wind of magic, leading him through the shadow, his sword is so fast that the shadow is too late to approach. Therefore, he rushed towards them. The howling of their end is incorporated into the large cry of pain around them. Ye Xiao's anger at the thought of what they did to his wife brought him into a violent state.

At first he didn't realize that when the night owl continued to chase and slash them in the space formed by the shadow, the shadow had stopped moving forward. Instead, they started to spin up. For a while, they did not escape his blade. But after a while, they began to glide, as if they were cooking smoke in the still air.

They floated into the deeper shadow and became a dark figure away from him, and the green light around them disappeared. Finally, the night owl stopped breathlessly, his arm twitching wearily.

That is their original form, not a shadow, but a person, a former apprentice of the Black Tower, who has passed through layers of tests and became a faithful believer of the Black Night Church, and became a dark mage of the Black Night Church's running dog.

This man named Kevin used to be a friend of the Night Owl, and they once worked together against other insidious and sly apprentices trying to get higher. But the friendship in childhood seems not worth mentioning now.

This evil mage who can control the shadow and the mind tries to use his ability to send the night owl into the bottomless pit of the **** of death, just as they try to take Leonor.

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