Dawn of the Grey Tower

Compared to living horses, the speed of ghost horses is often described in the legends of various regions as quick and silent as the evening breeze. Those riders who ride on their backs always arrive like ghosts born in the shadows of the moonlight, with dangerous or noble intentions, quietly coming from the night. The same is true of the fact that the riders on horseback shouted the battle roar that they inherited from the memory of the race or blood relatives when they were alive. But as their mounts, ghost horses are no longer as flexible as they are alive, their limbs appear unnaturally stiff, their eyes are empty, and their four-hoof swings are like wooden toys made by inferior craftsmen, but they are just like this. After all the consciousness as creatures, their speed reached a speed that would never be possible when they were alive, and their bodies no longer wobbled when they ran, and the people riding on them would no longer feel bumps, which is ironic.

This is not to say that ghost horses are better than living horses, although many people think so, but only those who have a deep understanding of these sad undead and their equally sad masters can really understand that these horses and riders are empty. One thing. They died long ago, at a certain moment in the so-called past of the possible time. For them, after that, there was no future, no time passed, only nothingness, just like filling in forever Dissatisfied black hole.

People always say that the undead are cold, and the corpses are cold. That's right, but the undead do not exist as physical entities that are exactly like corpses. Why do they talk about temperature? So the undead are not cold, but the people who contact them feel the emptiness of these dead people and feel the fear, because their bones know that the living will die, and this emptiness will engulf the living as if they engulfed the dead. . Death is not terrible, if death means the freedom of the soul, or the beginning of a new life, then it is not terrible at all, what is terrible is nothingness.

The cheese thought he was used to facing nothingness. He clearly remembered that when he was standing next to the dissecting table for the first time as an apprentice, his teacher told him the difference between the body and the deceased. This distinction indirectly contains a hint of nothingness, which was sensitively discerned by the young mage. For many days after that, the cheese couldn't go to sleep smoothly. He began to think about the coming of nihility and the possibility of nihility. He tried to persuade himself that nihility was not unacceptable, and he only responded to his throbbing heart in his chest. After many years, this unsolved problem still climbs into his heart from time to time, which is one of the reasons why the cheese hates the undead so much, their existence is the appearance of nothingness.

But this time, when he had to establish a connection with the undead again, seeking the help of ghost riders and their horses, he did not feel cold unexpectedly. This is not to say that these dead souls are any different from what he had known and contacted before, and they are still nothing inside. Only this time, he didn't think so. With the help of this calmness and calmness, the spells he cast are also more effective than expected. The figures of Lothar and Batu are covered by grass in the blink of an eye, and the sky trees in front and the terrible worms that climb on them become Is even greater.

How to fight against such an opponent? This question overwhelmed the thinking about the undead and the void and became the proposition that the mage had to face now. The cheese is not the first time he has fought against an enemy that is much larger than his size. He once fought against the demon lord who can use the castle as a seat on the ice field north of Longji Mountain and won. Even in a more distant time, he and Migo, the red dragon that is now his partner, has had to confront it. The mage who has experienced this knows that the size of the opponent is never a problem for someone like him who uses magic beyond his physical ability to fight. The real problem is the existence of those who possess both tremendous physical blessing muscle strength and congenital or acquired spirit and even magic power. Coincidentally, the worm they are facing now is definitely the most powerful kind of such existence, not to mention, it is very likely that He has not yet exerted his true ability.

Make a quick decision, and clean up the anomalous existence before it really uses the power to shake the world. This is the best way the cheese can think of. It is also the very few advice he got from the Grey Tower about those evil gods. The person who gave this advice was his teacher. "They always think of us as ants that do not understand anything, and are ladybugs that accidentally crawl on the books they are reading. This is a weakness that we have few available to use, and they must be aware of their own Before making a mistake, run away or stab a stinger. "

Strange to say, when I just left the gray tower, my brain was full of what I saw, but as time passed, the scene when I was trained in the gray tower gradually became clearer. Many things that I didn't understand at that time, and things I didn't care about, slowly became things that really need to be considered and understood. This may be the relationship between knowledge and experience. A bit of a wry smile came from the mouth of the cheese that thought so. With the idea, the practical action plan stretches from the origin of his thinking like a river ~ www.readwn.com ~ The fingertips are transformed into a large complex water system, but most of this water system cannot escape. Fate, they are either blocked by boulders in front of them, or fall into gully culverts, not many can really flow to the distance.

There are two opportunities. When the cheese reached this conclusion, their position was not far from the worm's body. From here, you can clearly see the follow-up of the riders who rushed to the giant. Most of them were bounced off by the mysterious power of the worm surface, shattered, and turned into a gray fog. If the general undead were turned into fog, they would disperse and become more finely cracked dust, which would become a wandering soul that is more difficult to detect. However, after being protected by an existence that rescued Lothar from the ground, the undead were able to reunite, even though the second attack would still be bounced off, they still had the third and fourth chances. Once, they were able to take advantage of the gap created by their companions to rush into the barrier of mysterious power and cut huge worms with the cold ghost blade. Although the scars left in this way are slight, the grassland fighters who have accumulated here for a long time have gathered here. If their horses can still raise dust, then their running alone is enough to set off a sandstorm. Too.

But even without sandstorms, the fearless rider has provided cover for the real poison needle. In the worm's impatient roar, the three finally reached him.

"Our goal is the upper part of its body! Let's jump on it!" The mage yelled to his companions, then gritted his teeth and tried to get up from the horse. The worm's skin turned into a wall in front of him, and he couldn't see the border. Just as he was about to hit the wall, his legs suddenly exerted force, and the whole person jumped into the air!

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