"Mother, where shall we go next?" Vincent's voice came out of the middle of the dusty hall.

Batana looked at what was happening in front of her in wonder. What kind of magic could

have done such an effect? She was somewhat of a spellmaster herself, and had fought mages

many times in her life, but she had never seen a single spell do so much damage. And it

seems that this human sorcerer has nothing to do with the phrase "magic power..." Not even

a spell in the ordinary sense! How on earth could this be?

What was most surprising was that he had not used protective petrified magic, but had used

a similar form of subterfuge. Without applying any more protection to himself, the mage

walked into the pile of illusions and confronted the petrified rays head on! How on earth did

it do that? Could it be that he was wearing something to protect him from petrified objects?

This is the weirdest part: how did he know there was a chance of petrified objects?

The master began to suspect that the human mage must have possessed the research

notebook taken by the escaped Kobold, which contained a map and a map of the entire

temple of the Severed Limbs. The damned human! What a deep cover. But how long do you

think you can keep it up?

Mother Batana came to Vincent with this in mind. She whipped out her weapon. It was a short

staff, but it grew longer and longer in his hand until it became as long as the master's staff of

power. Only it was entangled with a moving viper -- not a real snake, but more like a spirit

attached to the weapon. The snake, spitting out the letter, looked threateningly at the mage

in front of it, and hissed.

Vincent kept his head down and did not look directly at the mistress in front of him, but the

Master's discerning eye never stopped paying attention to the movements of this dark fairy

woman. It could be seen that the master mother was hesitant to kill the sorcerer completely.

In the end, she did not. "Maybe I had some other use as cannon fodder? Vincent smiled to

himself.

Batana beat the ground rhythmically with her staff, and with each "thump," the ground would

flash a character-like light. Vincent took a few steps back, watching the Drow muttering the

words, his mind constantly recording the details of this "ritual." The characters on the ground

flickered faster and faster, until at last they became a constant light.

At the mistress's side there appeared a step down. If even the discerning eye had not been

able to find this step, then it must not have been a naturally carved mechanism, but must

have been associated with some magical power. The Mistress led the way into the chamber,

followed by the dark elves' procession.

From the downward cavern came a sickening smell of decay, like that of a corpse from a

thousand-year-old tomb. Vincent covered his nose and tried to ignore his olfactory torment

by imagining the flowers and grass on the ground, the fragrance of the earth in early summer.

Mistress Batana and the dark elves did not seem to smell the stench, they just frowned and

walked down at a regular pace.

"Perhaps they have encountered a more corrupt scent in their lives," she said. Vincent thought

to himself.

The road to the last secret room was covered with dust and the walls were covered with

cobwebs. When the dark elves passed, there was a breeze, and the webs moved and shook

off a lot of dust. There was no sound except for the beating of hearts -- the beating of the

dark elves, or the sound of dust falling. The mother frowned and looked at the road ahead.

Just where the procession was about to move, there were several lines of footprints in the

thick dust. They looked like they were moving in a hurry, and above all, they were very new.

With a wave of the mother's hand, the staff made a circle in the air, and all the dark elves

drew their weapons. In their usual stealthy fashion, the Drow drew their weapons silently.

Vincent looked back and saw a group of murderous "Negroes" with weapons in their hands.

He was shocked to see this.

The whole team rushed forward as fast as they could. Now that someone has passed through,

it is unlikely that there is still a trap here. Vincent sensed the strong evil breath ahead of him.

Naturally, he did not rush to the front as a pathfinding stone. He ran breathlessly, pretending

to be out of strength.

The lead of the dark Elves had disappeared around the corner, but Vincent deliberately stayed

behind. But he was not the last one. Shelley was by his side.

The drow took Vincent's arm and they both stopped.

"Do you like me?" "Shelley said, frowning.

Listening to this, and looking at the expression on the Drow's face, Vincent could not put the

two together. Without thinking, he said, "No, I don't like it."

"That's good." Shelley looked relieved.

"Shelley, you'd better tell me what your problem is. Because I'm too tired to guess what's in

your heart." Vincent said, "I have heard some rumors too, but I still want to hear it from you."

"Well, you can hear it if you want, but I don't have time to talk about it." Shelley looked

anxiously in the direction in which the other dark elves had disappeared, in the direction of

her mother. "I know you were destined to leave the city of Prudence, and I ask nothing more

than that you bring me safely to the surface."

"If that is the case, I can help you," she said. Vincent looked at the female drow and thought

for a moment.

"No! You must be careful. Prudence is gathering a storm at the moment, not only from within,

but there may be outside forces as well, which is why the mother is determined to go so far

this time. This is a dangerous test, but also an opportunity! Vincent, I'm just a dark elf with

some fighting skills. I'm not a priest or a mage. I can't escape this place on my own. You must

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

help me! Besides, watch out for the mother!"

"I see." Vincent looked at Shelley's expression, which was expectant and worried, a mixture of

relief and sadness. No one knew for sure what lay ahead. According to Stonelegs, Shelley's

previous attempts to free herself had failed, and she should have begun to fear the feeling.

The two men stared at each other, forgetting their surroundings for a moment.

Until the deafening sound of a struggle came from up ahead.

Vincent and Shelley run forward together, and at the end of the passage comes a constant

stream of lights, and Batana's voice is heard loud and clear, Shouting in dark Elvish: "Evil spirit

from the world of the dead, go back to eternal sleep, go back to your grave, go back to the

dust, go back to your lifeless world! Get off this plane!"

Vincent and Shelley could not believe their eyes when they finally saw what had happened.

The soldiers of the Dark Elf family, who had just been alive and well, were almost all on the

ground, unable to move. Their bodies, however, remained intact, without a wound or blood.

But it was as if their souls had been ripped out of them, and there was no life left in them. It

was only for a moment, but most of the drow turned livid, like corpses that had been buried

deep in the earth for days and had begun to decay.

Batana and several Dark Elf priestesses are the only ones who can still stand. Zeena and her

sisters are constantly using magic to attack the enemies in front of them, while Batana recites

a complex spell that looks like she needs time to prepare.

And they have only one enemy. It was a standing skeleton, whose clothes had been burned

away by the burning fire, and whose delicate bones were revealed. As if it had been wrought

and sharpened, its bones were unusually hard and shiny, like a sword crafted by a dwarf

craftsman. In his empty black eyes two pale beams of light flickered, like two flames burning.

It seemed that any breeze could extinguish the feeble flame, but in fact not even the storm

of doom could shake the light. The right hand of this skeleton, unlike the rest of its body,

does not look at all like a human skeleton structure. What should have been two bones --

the lower arm of the ulna and the radius -- were now a tangle of bone spurs intertwined, like

a tangle of thorns and vines that had not been cleaned for years. Its right hand, too, had

grown enormous. All five of his finger bones were sharpened to a point sharper than an awl,

from his waist down to the ground. Vincent had no doubt that these fingers, nearly a meter

long, could easily Pierce anyone's body and set them up like pheasants roasting over a

campfire.

"Lich! It's a lich! ' Vincent quickly pushes Shelley back around the corner. A warrior, a warrior

unfamiliar with magic, could do little good at this point, and perhaps losing his life would do

no good. Vincent clenched the staff of Power. He quietly walked behind his Mistress and

applied the "Guard against Negative Energy" spell to himself. Under the protection of Batana,

the mage should not be hurt by ordinary spells, and this is the relatively safest place.

The lich is good at manipulating the breath of death. It's not that they're all Necromancers,

but because of their nature, lich has developed an instinct for using negative energy spells,

an instinct that would be considered "scary" to other creatures.

"Who dares disturb my dormancy? Dare to stand before me!" Grey air rose from the Lich's

mouth, and its voice did not come from his throat -- he had no throat. It was as if the sound

had struck directly in your heart and reverberated through your eardrums, but you could plug

your ears and not stop the sound from curling around.

'Spirit of the dead! Now that thou art dead, return to thy world!" Batana's spell was finally

ready, and she waved her staff at the lich, which was protected by layers of enchantments.

The latter was already struggling under the siege of several dark Elf priests.

A black cloud appeared over the lich's head, whirling like a whirlpool and making a faint

thunder sound. The whirlpool grew larger and larger, as if a tornado were gathering its

strength in the clouds, about to burst out and sweep away everything beneath it. In the center

of this storm, there is a faint voice floating, like countless souls are telling their pain and

suffering, constantly repeating the story of their life, venting their death unwilling. But when

you really want to listen to them, you can no longer capture those voices.

As Vincent looked at the magic, he couldn't help but marvel at the power of Batana. Although

the Dark Fairy mother was already weak and had seemed to expend a great deal of strength,

she had ripped space apart. The black vortex should have joined the pit plane where the

spider goddess was located, and the endless roar inside was telling of the dark fairy goddess's

anger, and the shadowy grumbling was the source of her power. Through the power of

Batana, the power of the spider goddess will descend upon this world. For a short time, but

for all things, that power is no doubt a tsunami or a burning volcano falling from the sky --

and you can only watch it happen and do nothing to stop it.

But Vincent sensed that the lich was laughing. He had never believed that a skeleton could

make a smile, but today he saw the lich's smile, the smile of victory.

The lich raised his strange right hand, high above his head, with his palm stretched out toward

the center of the storm above him. It raised its head, and the yellow fire in its eyes burned

ever more vigorously.

'Thank you! 'thought the Lich's voice again, echoing through the passage, reverberating

through everyone's heart.