The Legend of Fatality

The ancient rock still stands on the mountain, overlooking the Garonne River and the Landes Forest. Time eroded the cliffs and washed some ancient hills down the cliff. The castle itself has become a ruin, and was razed by King Charles ’s army from the battlefield after the Battle of Camranfield. The Burtanian army was looted by the orcs and Goblin after leaving.

The monster at the front of the line looked up at the barbed battlements of his castle, thick granite walls, towering towers covered with arrow marks, and thick oak doors lined with steel bars. The road to the mountain was paved with the bones of those who dared to rebel against him, nailed to the high stakes on both sides were the shells of his enemies who twitched after being peeled. At night, these shells will be immersed in the asphalt, and then lit, this is a candlelight shining through the domain of the Duke of Blood Eagle.

King Charles will never defeat him, even for a thousand years. The Duke of Blood Eagle will rebel against this treacherous usurper. He would not rest until he defeated the hypocrite until he brought destruction to all territories. The Duke of Blood Eagle will keep his life, and King Charles will live to see Burtania become the blood kingdom of Duke of Blood Eagle. At that time, Charlie would know the price of sin and the price paid by all those who betrayed the blood.

Jeffrey Huntington stared anxiously at his ghost horse monster, and the strange look of Duke Blood Eagle staring at the ruins on the mountain made him uneasy. There was an almost fanatical focus in the vampire's eyes. Jeffery quietly left his terrible master, looking backwards while watching him carefully.

"Go to the castle to inform me that I'm here," the Duke of Blood Eagle said, waving his hand in the air.

Jeffery glanced at the hill and the collapsed walls and the broken tower. He looked around nervously. The bodies of the knight of Earl Robert and the cult believer of Giselle lined up in two rows, standing behind the horse of the Duke of Blood Eagle. The zombies did not make any movements that obey the monster's commands. Jeffrey looked at Giselle hopefully, but the spooky banshee continued to fly aimlessly along the path, muttering to himself. At this moment, his heart sank, because he knew that the Duke of Blood Eagle intended to give his orders to the only living people among his terrible followers.

"Adult," Jeffrey bowed in front of the Duke of Blood Eagle. "This castle is in ruins. I'm afraid there are only mice and spiders left."

The Duke of Blood Eagle glared at the Necromancer, his fingers holding the hilt tightly. "Do what I said, redneck." The monster growled. "Sir Kobining must be eager to receive me."

Jeffrey scratched his head while studying the destroyed fortress. He now believes that the Duke of Blood Eagle may have been crazy. Anyone who has been alone in the grave for so many years may be crazy. But as long as he glanced at the Duke of Blood Eagle, he could be sure that no matter what he thought of this stupid task, if he continued to delay it, there would be unpleasant consequences. But unless Sir Kobinin was a rock lizard, Jeffrey believed that this crazy monster would not find someone in the castle waiting for him.

The Necromancer sighed and began the long journey, crossing the gravel-laden path, climbing from the valley to the top of the mountain. Every step, Jeffrey felt more uneasy every time he passed a pile of broken bricks. The Duke of Blood Eagle must have understood that there was nothing here.

In the passage leading to the gate of the destroyed castle, Jeffery heard the sound of rapid running from the dark hall of the castle. He hesitated and felt goose bumps, because he felt an invisible eye watching him. The Necromancer looked back nervously, begging at the Duke of Blood Eagle. But the Duke of Blood Eagle was indifferent to Jeffrey's anxiety, waving his hand impatiently, beckoning the Necromancer to do his business as soon as possible.

A low roar echoed through the ruins, followed by more sounds of running footsteps and the collision of falling stones. Jeffrey licked his lips, and his thoughts quickly turned over the spell he had been learning all his life, thinking about if something suddenly rushed to him from the dark, which kind of magic would be most helpful .

When something suddenly rushed to him in the darkness, Jeffrey was still trying to remember the whole content of the spell that would make a person's skin black and wither.

The smell of a dark body attacked the Necromancer first. The smell was so unpleasant that even the wizards who often robbed graves were disgusted. Then a sturdy body hit him, knocking him to the ground. Jeffrey landed heavily on the ground, and his skinny buttocks were cut by a sharp stone. Another rock cut his face, and he howled, but when a pair of fangs bit his face, his exclamation was quickly suppressed.

Jeffrey soon forgot his injured hip. The Necromancer folded his arms and tried to push away the drooling thing curled up on him. Its body is thin and thin, even weaker than the necromancer's weak body, but its limbs have a terrible strength enough to resist Jeffrey's efforts to push it away from him.

More terrible creatures sprinted out of the shadows, some like hungry jackals on all fours on the ground, and some bent like humans crawling on the ground. These things are bare, with no hair, pale skin is covered with ulcers and scabs, and their faces are squeezed and twisted. The ends of their fingers are long black claws, and the teeth in their mouths are as sharp as fangs. A pair of round, hungry eyes stared at Jeffrey's struggling body, with little wisdom in it.

The necromancer immediately recognized the creatures. He has encountered things like them many times, and they sneak around in the cemetery, trying to devour the freshly buried body. They are ghouls, fallen humans, and their bodies and souls are corrupted by the terrible food they devour. Jeffrey once drove them out of a dozen cemeteries, used magic to dispel those timid ghouls, and drove them back into their darkness, allowing the Necromancer to freely carry out his own Pathological research.

However, this time it was different. The necromancer did much more than disturb these ghouls for dinner. He broke into their den, which they called the rotten ruins of home. One person's order was lurking in their morbid brain, enough for the ghouls to fight for their homeland.

Jeffrey had a chance, he could have used this time to drive the ghouls back, but the Necromancer was startled by these things. His first thought was the plague of the Duke of Blood Eagle, not the ruins And what might be hidden inside. This mistake once left the Burtanians helpless in front of the fierce attackers.

But he couldn't continue thinking about the plague now. The ghoul roaring on his chest sounded terrible. It was like saying the word 'dinner' in Burtanian in an inferior tone. The monster's mouth was incredibly large, showing rows of sharp teeth. When the ghoul leaned over to bite Jeffery, a stream of water splashed on his cheek.

Suddenly, the ghoulish face of the ghoul was twisted away, and the hungry look of the fellow turned into a shocked expression. Jeffrey could hear the wailing and screaming of other ghouls, and they hurried back into the darkness, throwing their companions to the evil power that had caught it.

Palomo's spooky hoofs rattled against the broken tiles of the yard, and the scrawny warhorse jogged around a large circle in the ruins. On the back of the horse, the Duke of Blood Eagle straightened up, his right hand wrapped tightly around the neck of the ghoul, and effortlessly pulled the struggling ghoul from the ground. The Duke of Blood Eagle glared at the rancid guy, his face leaning back in a noble and contemptuous gesture.

"Dare you tarnish this place with your filth?" Duke Blood Eagle snapped. "This castle is my refuge and my bastion against traitors and usurpers! What right do farmers have to break into my territory!"

The ghoul continues to wriggle on and off under the control of the Duke of Blood Eagle ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ The Duke of Blood Eagle threw the monster onto the paving stones, and its skull cracked when it hit the ground. A pool of blood began to form around the ghoul's twitching body.

The Duke of Blood Eagle jumped from the saddle and drove down quickly. This is an action that will make any knight of Burtania envy. The jumped monster suddenly walked towards the dead ghoul. Its breathing was rapid, both violent and excited. It walked towards the pool of blood, eyes staring eagerly at the crimson liquid flowing from the body.

Then the Duke of Blood Eagle frowned in disgust and turned his back to the dirty corpse. He tried to start walking away, and then turned back towards the **** scene. Three steps were taken towards Blood Poor, and the Duke of Blood Eagle regained control of himself. He turned away from the ghoul's body with greater anger.

"De Naval!" The Duke of Blood Eagle roared. "That stupid country **** spilled wine!" The monster's words rumbling in the deserted courtyard. "Pull your fingers out of her hands one by one and feed her!" The monster glared at the collapsed walls and the broken battlements. "Huguenot de Naval! Follow my call, you cowardly coward!"

Jeffrey stood up from the ground, watching the Duke of Blood Eagle growling at the ruins, his anger growing every moment. The necromancer suddenly had a terrible idea: if the monster didn't find the person he was looking for, then he might vent his anger to the only person around him.

Jeffrey crept away from the courtyard and walked back along the winding path. He decided that it might be safer to wait with Gisele and other zombies in the valley below.