Dust of History: Dream crazy (4)

Splitting the last skeletons on the top of the mountain with one sword, Rod Hart pulled out the ice magic long sword from his lower abdomen, with a mass of frozen flesh on it, he You can almost hear the sound of your own intestines being ripped apart.

The icy sword with its own flesh and a small piece of internal organs flew out of its hand and crushed the nearest ghost. Then he immediately took the opportunity to pull out the last healing scroll and threw it on himself. This was the last scroll he found from the priest's zombie.

Fortunately, this is a scroll of divine grace, at least it can guarantee that his injuries will not be fatal. He reached out to help the piece of flesh on his face that was about to fall off, and used his own healing spells, not because he cared about his appearance, but because he knew that if the piece of flesh really fell off, he might tear his eyeballs together. Rip it out.

No pain. Or it doesn't feel like it anymore. He didn't sleep for two consecutive days, he only felt that his brain was almost like a piece of wood, not only feeling, but even thinking was very little left.

I don't know if it's a strange smell in the air or in the mountain range, a lifeless feeling that doesn't belong to life. This is probably the fundamental reason why no creature in the mountain range is willing to enter. The more he entered the depths of this mountain range, the stronger the breath became, and the more pervasive it eroded the human body and spirit. He could feel that his body seemed to be weakened under the influence of this breath, and even his spirit began to wither.

This is not a mental illusion, but a real fact. Every breath of air, everything you see, any sound you hear, the touch of your skin exposed to the air, and the smell that grows in your bones and soul at any time, all of them are all strongly felt that breath, that erosion, vitality and decay Vitality gives the feeling that everything that is alive dies and withers silently. His last rest was two days ago. If it wasn't for the weathered rock that fell from a height and broke his finger, the sharp pain stimulated him to fully wake up, he might never wake up coming.

Especially now that he has gone deep into the mountains, he has to muster all his fighting spirit and determination almost all the time to keep himself from weakening and going crazy in that strange feeling. Excessively fatigued and mentally exhausted, he could hardly think anymore, and the only thing that supported him to this place was the belief in his heart.

Perhaps the reason why he is not crazy in such an environment is because he is already crazy, crazy for that belief.

There are about 20 skeleton zombies about 50 steps behind, and about 40 under 100 steps on the hillside ahead, and four ghosts are in midair. It will take about three seconds to pounce. Deal with the side and rear first. There is no command of the Lich here, these skeletons and zombies are just fighting by their own instincts, and there is still a chance.

Through these thoughts in his mind like a machine, he bent down to pick up a mace and a long sword, and quickly rushed to the side and rear, while almost instinctively howling like a barbarian's war howl A voice: "Rod Hart. Please see the Marquis of Inham Elney..."

This has almost become a howl from subconscious instinct. But before he could finish screaming, he slammed his head on the chest of a zombie and bit off a large piece of dead flesh like rotten wood. took a piece.

All remaining consciousness has been focused on everything related to that belief. He has become an animal struggling with his beliefs.

I don't know how long it has passed, maybe not too long, Rod Hart tried his best to support himself standing on the top of the mountain, looking at the endless gray mountains around him and shouted again: "The captain of the Paladins of Ainfast Rod Hart. Please see the Marquis of Inham Erni and the mages of Diyagu..."

The voice that no longer resembles a human voice slowly echoed and dissipated in the mountains, but it still did not arouse any reaction at all.

Although there was still a long sword in his hand, but the limit of his body had indeed been reached, and Rod Hart slowly fell to the ground.

Although his will is still so tenacious and his beliefs are still so powerful, he is still a human being. The injuries and fatigue on his body can make at least twenty people lie down.

The back touched the cold rocky ground, and the strength and energy that had been condensed for an unknown period of time immediately began to vent like water breaking a bank. He seemed to feel that even every cell in his body began to rapidly collapse and rot. I don't know if it's the air, the rocks behind him, or the aura emanating from the depths of his soul that started to corrode his body. Erosion of spirit... He could clearly feel that he was dying.

But even so, the belief and consciousness in his heart did not collapse, but remained clear and firm, just like the incomparably hard Shadow Spin Mountain Range behind him.

Am I going to die... I still have to go to Dejagu, I still have a chance. My life shouldn't just be like this, I can continue to go up... I have a chance...

"It turned out to be a lunatic." A voice sounded.

It turns out that I have really gone crazy. Rod Hart's first reaction was this idea. Hearing auditory hallucinations while dying is not what madness is. Whether it is a skeleton, a zombie or a ghost, it is impossible to speak.

But what he saw with his blurred vision was not the shadows of those undead creatures, but a real person, a person in white robe.

"He dared to venture into the Shadowspin Mountain Range alone. I've never seen it, or even heard of it. How would I know that this person is a lunatic." The man looked at Rod Hart on the ground. , said with a slight sigh. "Did you know that among the zombie skeletons and ghosts you smashed, there are many people who were stronger than you in life, and they all came in groups. Just because you want to break into Diya Valley alone, I think you It's crazy."

All the remaining mental and physical strength were gathered again because of the appearance of this person. Although he could no longer see the appearance of this person, Rod Hart tried his best to speak out his belief: "Rod Hart, please see the Marquis of Inham Erni and the mages of Djagu..."

The man smiled lightly and said, "Looking for Inham? It's a pity that he is no longer here... and since he never mentioned you, he didn't arrange a way for you to meet, so it can be seen that he doesn't care about you at all. , In other words, you seem to be of no use to him."

"I...I will be...very useful..." Rod Hart wanted to say too much, but he really didn't have the ability to go on ~IndoMTL.com~ Useful? Is the reason why you are crazy just because you want to tell others that you are useful? It's a pity that Di Yagu doesn't need useful people now..."

Rod Hart tried his best to speak, but he just coughed up a mouthful of blood. His eyes were blind.

This person didn't speak either. After looking at Rod Hart on the ground, he seemed to think about it for a while, then he bent down and stretched out his hands to press him. Under the light of white magic, the wounds on his body stopped bleeding very quickly, and even began to shut up.

"With such strength, you can advance so far in the barrier of the Black Star, which shows how crazy you are. There will probably be people who prove that they are useful like crazy."

With the continuous influx of white magic, the vitality in the body that was about to be cut off was slowly connected together, and Rod Hart slowly became visible again. The first thing he saw was the man's white bishop's robes and a beautiful and gentle face.

"I don't know if it's your luck or you are really crazy enough to meet me here..." the man said slowly. "Diaco doesn't need useful people, but there are other places. I do."