There is no genre here, or every powerful warrior must find his own genre, otherwise he will only be inferior.

To be honest, this is terrible, the feeling of blooming flowers. If the Federation did not completely control this empire from an ideological level, but allowed it to develop with great ambitions, perhaps this is another Caesar Empire, more aggressive and unpredictable.

If he goes back like this, he is not Molden, the Porter family, and never returns empty-handed.

The Trial of Death became the final Trial of Molden.

This is also the traditional trial place for Tutankhamun warriors. Anyone who survives here for one month can gain universal respect and recognition from Tutankhamun. If he can survive for three months, he will be respected as "Shazan". As long as he goes to the royal family, he will get a Shazan badge representing strength and status.

If he failed to get the expected training in Tutankhamun, he would at least get the title of Shazan before returning to the Federation. At the beginning, Molden entered the Death Desert with his equipment, but soon, he replaced most of the equipment and Tutankhamun people with their earthen objects, such as changing the tent to radiation-resistant rune bones.

Everything is carried out in the way of the native Tutankhamun warrior.

This is the seventh day of Molden's trial, and he has begun to adapt to the environment here and has learned how to find resources to survive in this land of death.

The sky soon became bright, the air began to become anxious, and the fishy and hot breath was strong and high-dimensional, radiating the land of death. The rune beast bones emitted the light of power. The already dim shield was like a squeezed bubble, very unstable, but it still filtered most of the harmful energy conscientiously. But even so, Molden's skin still felt a tingling pain, as if he was leaning his body on a slowly heating iron plate. It was not the kind of explosive hot, it was just continuous and it was becoming increasingly unbearable.

Molden took out the water bag, but soon, he endured it back and stuffed it back into his backpack. He closed his eyes and tried hard to ignore these external effects. He needed sleep. Only by ensuring sufficient sleep can he have enough energy to face the night. High concentration of radiation is death, but the greatest danger also brings the most peaceful time.

Controlling sleep in pain is a skill that Molden learned in the past few days. The focus is not on patience, but on breathing, following the breath of the dunes, which is a bit like a hypnosis method, but not entirely. Molden quickly found that rhythm and fell into a dream.

But soon, an abnormal rhythm came from the sand, which made Molden in the dream wake up quickly.

I saw more than a dozen figures slowly approaching him in the sunshine.

Radiating people!

In this desert of death, there are not only Tutankhamun's warriors, but also mutant groups that radiate people. They, or, in other words, are enemies and disasters in the north of Tutankhamun. They were once humans. However, the highly radiated desert area changed their life structure and only needed a very small amount of water. Anything can become their food, including sand. Radiation no longer harms them. On the contrary, it is the nutrient of their life, equivalent to oxygen for humans.

The Radiant people's ethnic group gradually began to withdraw from the north of Tutankhamun under the repeated attacks of the empire. The Desert of Death is their border with the empire. The Tutankhamun's warriors will try here, so the Radiant people also hunt humans here. Whether it is the hatred abandoned by their compatriots, or the pain that constantly tortured the body, the fresh body of human beings has become their favorite delicacy.

Molden was targeted for more than one day, they were cunning groups with human intelligence, reconnaissance, judgment, and another blow to kill. The daytime in the Dead Desert is their time.

Molden counted the numbers with a smile, and the twelve radiation people were licking his lips with his tongue, taking out the water bag, taking a big sip, and taking an anti-radiation tablet, which allowed him to fight with full fire during the radiation for ten minutes, and then he began to seriously bandage his hands.

Before the Radiant completed the encirclement, Molden rushed out and rushed to the front of a Radiant like lightning. The ugly and twisted man's face was covered with green fluff. The creeping green light could still be seen in the sun. The Radiant screamed, and the fishy smell in his mouth came to his nose. Molden pressed out a straight punch without any tricks, and at the same time, he turned over and flashed the arms that the Radiant had brought over. They were a pair of arms that could be seen so rotten that they could see bones. They were not thick, but under the blessing of radiation, the strength was enough to easily penetrate the body defense of the gray-blooded warrior.

Molden's fist directly penetrated the neck of the Radiant Man, and a strangled force, like a directional bomb, instantly blowing the Radiant's strong throat through a big hole.

There are eleven left.

Molden continued to rush out!

However, he did not notice that, with full firepower, an army full of radiation-resistant equipment was watching the battle coldly, with a full military aura and murderous intent.

The tall leader was the only black man who was not wearing radiation equipment. Looking at the lightning-like Molden, he kept circling among the radiation people, constantly killing the powerful radiation people one by one, and his eyes became even colder.

"The Federalist is still a little bit good, but that's all, and it's all about it, and it releases more radiation."

After the dunes, more strange-shaped radiation people appeared, and they rushed towards Molden like they were drilled out of a cage.

This is unreasonable.

Although Molden wanted to sharpen himself, he was not an idiot. Just as he would not go deep into the wilderness, the people there, regardless of whether he was a member of the Federation or not, were also a radiation person who was one of the threats, and he also paid special attention to how such a large number suddenly appeared here!

He smelled the conspiracy.

Vazina Oasis.

Lord Vazina was carefully accompanying a middle-aged man whose body was shining like a black glass gem. The man always smiled faintly, his dark lips set off his snow-white teeth. The alternative contrast made people feel a handsome and gentle feeling. The strange charm made his aura suppress the entire room, and everyone unconsciously surrendered to him.

"Come on, this glass of wine is to toast to the great god, thanking him for giving us life and strength."

The middle-aged man raised the glass of wine in his hand. This was a luxury from the Free Federation. A trace of playfulness flashed in his eyes. The empire was increasingly inseparable from the Free Federation. It didn't matter, but is it really okay to continue like this? When the people were more awe-inspiring than when they saw the yellow skin, how much time did they have to enjoy these things as they are now?

Enjoyment and ambition are really a dilemma that is difficult to balance.
Chapter completed!