Dust of History Chapter 60:

The muscles and bones all over his body were still in pain, and Asa found himself lying on the altar that was originally hidden under the treasure of gold coins. A complex magic circle is drawn under the body, and the black gemstone in the center is exuding majestic vitality, but the magic circle has been stained red by blood, by his blood.

The blood came from a wound on the artery of his wrist. The wound was neat and had just been cut. His hand was placed on the black gemstone, blood was still flowing out, and the black gemstone was almost completely soaked in the blood.

Asa woke up suddenly and jumped up, the healing mana was everywhere, and the wound on his wrist stopped bleeding immediately. A few meters in front of him, a red-haired woman in black leather was looking at him, her angular face was full of strangeness and surprise, as if the surprise in her heart was bigger than Asa's. More and more.

"Why? Why can't I feel the imprint of the black star in your body? How can you not have the breath of the black star in your blood? How can you go in and out of the Shadow Spiral Mountain Range?" Molier's voice was rolling Swinging, with incomparable surprise and anger.

Asa stared blankly at the woman transformed by the black dragon, shocked and angry, but he still didn't understand what was going on.

"Aren't you a member of the Necromancer Guild?" Morrill roared, and the cave trembled. It sounded out of place in such a woman's body to have such a loud and compelling voice. She seems angry.

"I'm not..." Asa shook her head and answered slowly. His eyes were already red, and he could feel the blood vessels on his forehead throbbing under the fury. If you talk about anger, he guarantees that the anger in his heart is definitely worse than that of the red-haired woman in front of him. To be angry a thousand times.

No matter who it is, after working so hard to save the other party, he was almost killed by the other party. He couldn't help being angry. He really wanted to punch the face in front of him to pieces.

But Asa can hold back, even if he is a hundred times more angry now, he can only hold back. He is very aware of the strength gap between himself and the dragon that has recovered its strength. Reason let him know that if this punch is really thrown, it will definitely be his own face that will be smashed.

Molier didn't speak any more, just looked at Asa with those huge yellow dragon eyes. There is still no murderous aura, and some are full of the unique aura emanating from every cell in the body. any human. As long as he is still a human being, he cannot help but feel the pressure under such an aura.

Asa did not speak either. The nerves in his whole body were tense, and his body was very weak after losing blood, and even if he was not weak, he didn't seem to have any room to resist. This was just the body's natural reaction to the aura.

The two of Rodhart and Silika have already moved down from the sunken rock wall. Their broken and deformed bodies seem to have recovered a bit, and they are trying to move their bodies towards the temple like two squashed cockroaches. The few remaining corpses of the knights were removed.

Finally, a long sigh came out of Morrill's nose. Her expression looked a little weird, and her majestic and threatening aura was also reduced a lot.

She looked at Asa and said lightly: "Okay, take it easy, although you have the leaves of the world tree and Archibald's meditation. The most important thing for the clam is that there is no imprint of the black star in the body, It's useless for me to kill you."

"It's useless?" Asa was taken aback, he didn't understand what it meant.

"Let's have a good talk, human beings. First, let's talk about how you came here through this special channel for people from the Necromancer Guild, and since you are not from the Necromancer Guild, how can you have these two people?" Undead puppet. You seem to have many things beyond my expectations."

Although I still can't figure out what's going on and I'm getting more and more confused, although I still feel very angry. But Asa felt relieved. At least it seemed that Molier had no intention of taking his own life.

The Shadow Spiral Mountains are like a gigantic net that winds and stretches endlessly across the land. There is almost no life in this net, and all vitality is swallowed up by the dead silence and dark breath in this net. . Anyone who enters here without authorization, animals, can only be consumed by this breath to the last bit

Vitality, and then under the nourishment of breath, it becomes skeletons, zombies, ghosts and other undead.

The most central part of this mountain range. A very high lone peak rises from the ground and goes straight to the end. The mountain peak with a radius of tens of miles has been raised, and above the peak is just a platform tens of meters square. At the very center of the platform, a cloud of black mist surrounds an ancient altar.

The boundless aura unique to the Shadow Spinning Mountains has become so thick on the platform at the top of the mountain that it is almost like a substance. It is the aura of death and blackness. The purest and most concise point.

It's not that the breath from this cloud of mist diffused into the mountain range, but that the breath of the entire mountain range automatically gathered here, and then spread out, and the cycle continued. This peak is the axis of the great web of the whole range. And this cloud of black mist is the meridian at the center of the axis. Essence.

But in this place where the death is the most intense, an old man is standing on the platform staring blankly at the black mist. The old man was very old, with a hunched back, with so many wrinkles on his face that it seemed that his ugly face was made up of wrinkles, and he was also very thin, so he couldn't even stand very stably.

The tattered robe blew wildly in the mountain wind, it seemed that even his people might be blown away by the strong wind on the peak at any time.

Even the strongest mongolian behemoth. It is unreliable to sustain for a long time in this strong death aura, but such a thin and aging old man seems to be fine in front of such a strong dark aura. The breath that annihilates all vitality is like water in front of fish in front of him.

"Mr. Shante, how do you remember this place?" Another old man appeared on the edge of the platform. This old man doesn't look very old, his robes are neat and tidy, and he is so energetic that he can feel sober at any time.

Teacher Shante didn't answer, but still silently looked at the black mist on the altar. After a while, he asked slowly, "Stephen, how many times have you been here?"

"It's been about twenty years. Since Sandro broke the hilt of his sword, I went up to see it once." Stephen thought for a while and replied.

Shante said lightly: "I haven't come up for more than fifty years. Since the time I came here to accept the brand of the black star and become a necromancer more than fifty years ago, I haven't come up to see it again. One glance."

"Then why did the teacher come here on purpose today?" Stephen asked, and he also noticed that the old man's words and voice seemed a little different from usual. "Your body..."

"That kid cured me."

"That kid..." He was startled for a moment, and then a look of surprise flashed across Stephen's face.

"That's the one..."

"Yes. It is the kid who learned death magic from Sandro, and Widney has always wanted to bring him into the guild. Not long ago, that kid came to my place. It was Agrinel who guided him here. He is asked to take a path that Lord Archibald has designated only the acting guildmaster to take."

The surprise on Stephen's face was even heavier. Now that Shante has left the guarded passage, it means that he was really allowed to pass. "Oh? Then... you really let him in?"

"The kid picked up the hilt of the Black Star in front of me."

Sante had no expression on his face, and his voice was very soft, as dry as a pile of ashes blowing away in the wind.

Stephen still heard clearly, but this time there was no surprise on his face, he was just dumbfounded, then he sighed, and looked at the black mist in the center of the altar and stopped talking.

In the eyes of everyone else, it was just a cloud of dark mist~IndoMTL.com~ But in their eyes, as the undead who accepted the recognition of the dark star, they could all see clearly that a cloud in the center of the mist The regiment is a long black sword.

Black. It is black. There is no adjective other than black to describe this sword. This is a sword that seems to condense all the darkness in the world into one. It's just that this sword doesn't have a hilt now, but the blade is inserted on the altar alone.

This is the Dark Star, the legendary artifact of darkness that can change the world.

"I feel very clearly that he really picked it up, took it. The breath of the Black Star has completely merged with his body, at least for a moment, he is infinitely close to death The king of spirits." Shante's eyes looked at the long sword in the dark mist, and his eyes were also like the dead air around him, which was so heavy and thick that it could hardly be melted away.

"The king of the undead... With the vitality of the Sunwell and the leaves of the world tree, as well as real meditation, is it the gathering of strength?" Stephen smiled lightly, most of which was a wry smile, A small half is a miserable smile. "That is to say, according to Master Archibald's prophecy, he will come here one day to pull up the black star. Therefore, we necromancers will faithfully surrender at his feet... Diya This is the end of the history of the valley... and the entire continent."