The dark clouds are rolling, and the red moon breathes out its uncertain light, like a heart that is constantly spasming and gradually drying up.

From inside the giant crater, dim red light spewed out, like a waterfall made of condensed blood, pouring into the depths of the mountain forest, dyeing the colorful mandala flowers in the daytime into shocking colors.

color.

Among the thousands of blooming blood flowers, an extremely brutal fight, no, a one-sided massacre, is taking place.

The four origin warriors were like eight-clawed octopuses with tentacles tied with swords, spears, halberds, axes and hooks, galloping in the dense forest, moving around, catching the fleeing elites of the White Bone Camp.

As long as they caught up with them, the elites of the Bone Camp, whose eyes were full of phantoms, whose brains were in severe pain, and who had no idea what was happening, could hardly carry out any effective counterattack except struggling and screaming.

Even among them, the warriors with the most unwavering will and the most fearless death dared to throw flaming spears at the deformed and mutated origin warriors.

No spear can penetrate the armor of the Origin Warrior, which condenses and thickens instantly, becoming as hard as iron.

Even if the armor is penetrated, it is only the liquid metal substance originating from the body of the warrior. A hole is deliberately opened in the armor, like a bloody mouth, and the spear is connected to the elite arm of the White Bone Camp, as well as the shoulder behind the arm, and the shoulder behind the shoulder.

The chest, head and internal organs above and below the chest were all swallowed up.

After a while, deep in the dense forest, the screams that had been coming one after another gradually subsided and turned into weak moans and sighs of unwillingness before death.

The core members of the Bone Battalion who had been following the Saint of Ancient Dreams since before the Great Horn Legion was established were almost completely wiped out.

Only the last three elite members of the White Bone Battalion were left, still running wildly.

One of them seems to have the blood of a barbarian, a tall and powerful elite of the White Bone Battalion. Behind the blood-stained battle flag is wrapped the unconscious, foaming at the mouth, smoking from the forehead, and twitching non-stop Saintess of Ancient Dreams.

.

The brain of the Ancient Dream Saint has gone out of control.

Like a blazing torch, it constantly sprays chaotic brain waves towards the outside world.

This also caused various illusions including the "zombie rat god" to appear before the eyes of these three White Bone Camp elites.

Fortunately, these three elites of the White Bone Battalion are all the old subordinates who have followed the Ancient Dream Saint for the longest time. They have relied on the Ancient Dream Saint in life and death countless times, fought side by side, and saved each other's lives.

In a sense, he is not only an old subordinate, but also the most trusted old friend and old associate of the Ancient Dream Saint.

Perhaps even they themselves did not realize that their trust and loyalty to the Saint of Ancient Dreams even vaguely surpassed their trust and loyalty to the Great Horned Rat God.

Therefore, they can still grit their teeth to maintain their clarity and free will, and have not yet been knocked down by the terrible nightmare.

But after such a long night, their spirits and bodies had both reached the limit of fatigue and overdraft.

On the bulging muscles of the three White Bone Battalion elites, clusters of tangled veins protruded like babies' fists.

It was as if a few little mice had gotten under their skin and were scurrying around inside their bodies.

This is a sign of severe cramping.

The degree of pain cannot be described in words.

In addition, a series of pink bubbles erupted from the nasal cavities of the three people.

As he breathed, the sound of the bellows burning could be heard in his chest.

This means that in order to obtain enough oxygen and promote the full combustion of blood, they do not hesitate to tear the lung lobes, and the blood has invaded the alveoli.

Climb a high mountain ridge.

There is no road ahead.

This was not a regular route for the army to travel.

Under the nourishment of underground spiritual energy, the growth rate of moss, shrubs, vines and mandala branches is more than ten times faster than that of plants on earth.

In just ten days and a half without using a machete to cut down, the winding paths in the dense forest will be engulfed by wildly growing plants and fungi.

Of course, with the rough skin and thick flesh of the high-level orcs and their immense strength, it would only be a waste of time and energy to cut a path with a knife on a normal day.

Even if the bushes and thorns on both sides of the road scratched me into criss-crossing fine wounds, it didn't matter.

But now, the last elite members of the Bone Camp have no time.

Not even for a second.

Chi-li-chi-liu, chi-liu-chi-liu.

Xixisuosuo, Xixisuosuo.

The three of them hesitated for a moment in the depths of the dense forest with no way to go, when an unknown squirming and swaying sound came from behind them.

By the bloody moonlight.

They seemed to see the projection of an indescribable demon, magnifying in front of themselves and the Ancient Dream Saint, until they were all enveloped.

The last nerves of the three White Bone Camp elites were broken at the same time.

They stumbled, as if their spines had been removed, and they were paralyzed in the shadow of the demon.

He twisted his cervical vertebrae mechanically, and cast his eyes full of despair at the body of the demon behind him.

The first assassin was like a giant spider, slowly hanging down from the branches of the mandala with claws and teeth.

He, or "it", still maintains the basic human form.

At least, on the head that was encased in a liquid-like metal substance and expanded several times, the mouth, nose, eyes and ears could still be barely discernible.

And between the deformed and distorted facial features, there is also a cruel smile unique to intelligent life.

But the two extremely long forelimbs, which almost drag to the ground, are completely out of the category of "arms".

The left arm of this origin warrior was wrapped, transformed and reshaped by a liquid-like metal substance, almost turning into a silver python.

The scales with extremely sharp edges are interlaced to form an intricate pattern.

It's still a bloody mouth full of fangs.

All clearly visible.

There were even two bright red tumors growing on the back of his hands, which bulged and sucked like the eyeballs of a strange python, glowing with hunger.

But his right arm turned into something like a giant scorpion tail.

Human joints and flesh and blood tissue completely disappeared.

Instead, there are circles of flexible links.

The silver carapace, which simulates chitin but is a hundred times stronger than chitin, is covered with dense spikes, making one dare not imagine the consequences of flesh and blood rubbing against it.

The palms and fingers were completely dissolved into the quasi-liquid metal material and became the raw materials for casting the scorpion tail barbs.

Two scorpion tail barbs, one large and one small, protrude from the front of the arm, making this strange limb look like the iron pincers of a giant crab.

This origin warrior seems to have put all his life force into these strange arms.

So much so that his pelvis shrank to a high degree, almost like a burden caused by polio, hanging limply on both sides of his body.

But this does not affect his speed.

From the end of his spine, a huge swelling suddenly grew, resembling the lower body of an arthropod.

The swollen surface is covered with dense holes, and from each hole, bundles of extremely tough and silvery threads can spurt out, like silk threads made of metal.

He relies on these "metal wires" to hang on the branches in the dense forest. He can move faster than running at full speed with his legs. His attack angle from a high position is also more treacherous and changeable, making him difficult to guard against.

Rao is the only three remaining elites of the White Bone Battalion, and they are all accustomed to seeing the most ferocious enemies and the most miserable death methods in the mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

I have never seen an origin warrior that has mutated to this extent.

They almost closed their eyes and rushed towards the origin warrior.

Don't seek to kill a bloody path.

I just hope that before my spirit completely collapses and I become ugly, I can usher in a vigorous, or at least a neat death!

boom!

The three White Bone Camp elites all heard the sound of their breastbones or internal organs exploding.

I felt like a broken sack blown up by a hurricane and thrown far away.

But the eternal silence did not arrive as expected.

The incomparably clear pain still flows through their neural networks like lightning, making them clearly feel that the fire of their life is still burning with incomparable exuberance.

The three White Bone Camp elites all opened their eyes in surprise.

This is impossible.

They said to themselves at the same time.

Although the origin warriors are their comrades who live with them day and night.

But after the totem armor lost control and transformed into a half-flesh, half-mechanical monster, these never-tiring, never-ending killing machines no longer showed any mercy.

Just a moment ago.

The three White Bone Battalion elites all watched as the four assassins used their deformed and twisted metal limbs to create a bloody storm, killing dozens of their former comrades in an instant.

There was even a pair of twin brothers. After the elder brother became an origin warrior, the first person he killed was his own brother who came to the rescue.

There is no way these monsters will show mercy.

Why, their offensive suddenly weakened so much, but they couldn't kill three of them in just one breath?

The three White Bone Camp elites widened their eyes.

They saw a scene that horrified them but also puzzled them.

Just as they were thrown away.

This origin warrior, whose arms turned into monster pythons and scorpion tails, and whose lower body turned into a spider, had already used the shining silver "metal spider silk" to quickly climb to the ancient dream saint who was leaning against a mandala tree and was violently convulsing.

Top of head.

The lifelike python's head on the left arm opened its bloody mouth. Not only did dozens of sharp, sharp fangs protrude, but from the depths of the "throat", a cluster of spikes that looked like metal tentacles also spewed out.

With only half a hand's distance, you can poke holes in the face of the Saint of Ancient Dreams and twist off her head like a bear trap.

And his right arm, which turned into a scorpion tail, relied on the flexible link to sneak around the mandala tree and stab the ancient dream saint's back from behind, trying to use two hard-as-iron hooks to kill the ancient dream girl.

The saint pinched him at the waist.
Chapter completed!