Chapter 605 A small accident in the middle of the scene


Chapter 605: The Scene of the Crow's Small Accident

Comoros, the dark dimension of the darkness that is concentrated in the intersection of the Internet, are all miracles, and the fragmented twisted fragments of the afterglow of the ancient spiritual empire.

Every inch of its land is soaked in blood, and every mouthful of air is filled with pain.

Here, order and kindness have long been left behind, and the story of morality and conscience as fairy tales will only attract mockery and humiliation.

This eternal night city is like a rotten ancient beast whose end is no one knows where it ends, crawling deep in the net, feeding the descendants of the ancient empire who live here.

The streets are stacked and winding like countless tangled snakes or tentacles. The buildings on both sides are twisted and deformed. The sharp tops of countless spires in all directions pierce the dark sun in the sky, as if screaming silently. They pierce the purple sky like countless broken ribs, with blood dripping from the tips. From time to time, people walking here will find blood drops from the sky, and those slaves crawling over the surface of the magnificent and contrary to common sense are doing their eternal hard labor.

The air is filled with a sweet but rotten smell, which is the breath of pain and joy.

Each wall is inlaid with painful faces, those souls imprisoned forever, their wails please the residents and maintain their daily health.

Conspiracy and painful death spread in the corners of the wall, and the broken blades reflected lighted up layers of dried blood on the ground.

Between the towering spires, bridges woven from painful energy are suspended. The nobles of the Dark Eldar tribe walked gracefully through these translucent passages in gorgeous costumes and high heels. Their laughter was sharp and harsh, like fragments of glass slashing across the metal surface. Behind every smile, there is endless malice and calculation.

Deep in the city, the triangular spires of many arenas run by the Witch Spirit Sect are very obvious in the sky, which is one of the most important facilities in Comoros, and the exquisite killing and extracting fear and pain are eternal themes.

In the permanently filled audience, the dark spirits were sucking the intense emotions squeezed from slave fighters due to the artistic killing of succubus or bloody witches in the arena. The fear and pain radiated by the slaves were constantly sucked by hundreds of thousands of people. Every time the blade stabbed into flesh or splashed with sharp claws, it triggered a burst of fanatical cheer.

Every arena is crucial. They are a group of fresh food pots that will always be bleeding. The spectators are also diners. The audience's pupils will be magnified by excitement. The corners of their mouths will taste the pain and soul of every slave and loser here. After a full meal, they will walk out of the arena with full vitality and youth.

The various aliens that humans and they are hostile to are hunted or captured. They are captured here just to become food and slaves of the Dark Spirit tribe. All the long or short pains that will arise in the next place will become the nutrients of Comoros and the resources produced in the underlying factories.

Undergrounds of various cores of Comoros, groups of blood actors of different sizes are still inhabited. Even among the Dark Spirit Clan, it is these ancient evil existences that master the secrets of the resurrection of the Dark Spirit Clan and some souls.

It is said that some of them are the oldest, most despicable, and most terrible blood actors, who even lived from the ancient spiritual empire to the present. Of course, these monsters are so ancient that they cannot escape the gaze of the hungry lady. The only way they keep their souls in their bodies that are transformed into the deepest nightmare and are not drawn into exhausted mummies is to swallow more, endless pain every day.

In general, this miraculous city built on the pain of slaves and even his tribes, travelers like him will be filled with the urge to destroy all this with just a glance.

But he knew very well that this wish could not be achieved even by himself now.

But...

Some things can be done in a simple way.

Ascots Clarks was standing above a sharp arena spire, looking down at the twisted city, thinking.

He was not worried that he would be seen by the dark spirits' naked eyes or detectors in such a conspicuous place.

The body of the offspring Adarik Wannas has a pretty good genetic combination. He is the one among his offspring that can basically inherit his shadow talent. Therefore, he now converges his body in it and walks freely in the complex shadows of Comoros.

The most unnecessary place of this unusual building is shadows in all directions. The spire of the tower he is located is about three feet long and two inches wide projection towards the direction of the dying star. The position is excellent, which makes Clarks' surveillance very comfortable.

Now, he was patiently waiting for the hunting team he heard about to harbor passing by. He should have rushed back to the Destiny Steel Defensive Chapel Gate, but when he happened to hear about a Dark Spirit Consort who was hunting and preparing to be used to throw himself into the Witch Spirit Arena, he changed his mind.

It took not much time to rescue this prey...at most several hours, and the mechanic position at the entrance of the chapel was enough to support him until he rushed back, and the construction and seal of the chapel itself were enough to block the "person" inside.

Generally speaking, those powerful soldiers will automatically go to repair the runes and lines that have been broken or destroyed. In fact, that "person" does not have time to attack the position every day. According to the rules of his previous defense for a while, there will be no impact within a few hours, which is enough for him to do what he wants to do here.

Perhaps, this will be a New Year gift that makes Magna Dorn happy. Clarks thought so, but it is undeniable that he himself has been somewhat unhappy with the bravest warrior among humans being captured and used to please aliens for a long time - God knows that every time he comes to Comoros, he will save all the people he can save, but the people who are caught are still in a steady stream!

Just as he was thinking, at his feet—or, the men of a consul who walked over the twisted streets were driving over a dozen ragged prisoners, most of whom were aliens, and a few humans.

Clarks' eyes swept through the numb faces one by one, and then at the end of the team, a tall figure came into his eyes. Although he was covered in heavy shackles and stained with blood, his special figure and gait, silver armor and the damaged team emblem in front of his left shoulder armor showed that this was the target he was looking for.

"Caduron, the champion of the Iron Knights Chapter, nicknamed "Saint of Blades"..."

The Lord of the Dark Crow searched for his database list from an old man and found that the last time Kaduro was witnessed by his brothers was more than 700 years ago in the real universe, but obviously, the state of Kaduro that appeared in front of him was not something that a warrior who had been tortured for more than 700 years ago.

The warrior has short dark brown hair and eye-catching blue eyes, and despite his bloody head, the blood has long been stopped by his own Lariman cells, and it doesn't look bad. His helmet may have been lost. Clarks did not see it on the magnetic lock, and the fresh battle marks on his face with the power armor indicate that he was captured alive in a premeditated battle.

Perhaps it was the ship carrying him that encountered a sudden subspace storm, or something else, after almost 774 years of disappearance, the Iron Knights' Corps and Master of Swordsman, who had won more than once at the Blade Feast, was now escorted to Comoros.

It is enough to know that this information is correct.

Saving this warrior from the disgraceful fate of being reduced to food for these fallen people would make Clarks feel better for a long time, so he chose to stay for a few more hours - anyway, Clarks is not the one who will make up for the next account. Besides, as far as he knows, Kaduro's fate is actually... not that important.

So as a small gift for a family, it's just right. The King of Crows quietly jumped down the spire, but his heavy body and armor were even lighter than a black feather into the shadow next to the street. The shadow gently embraced him. The patrol of the Dark Spirit clan roared past his head, but no one discovered his existence, he was the shadow.

He walked to the end of the team.

The Dark Spirituals escorts still did not notice any problems.

On the contrary, only Kaduro looked at the shadow where he was, with doubt and vigilance.

Clarks clenched his fists.

Three, six dark claws on one side popped up silently from the ridges of his fists, like the claws of some kind of giant carnivorous dinosaur, sharp, long and deadly.

While starting to cut the throat of the third escort, the first dark elves who had been cut open his throat touched their throat with a strange expression. Then a pressured fountain gushed out of his blood transport pipeline, and the team began to become panic. The escorts were alert and confused to tentatively shoot and wave weapons in all directions.

"Follow me."

He approached the Iron Knight Astart, whispered like a ghost in his ear, and at the same time he took out two smoke bombs and threw them on the scene - fortunately, this group of dark elves did not use psychic energy.

The strange black smoke instantly spread out, blocking everyone's sight while swallowing up the limited light and sound.

He grabbed the other person's wrist, and his sharp claws cut open the shackles on the other person's body like a hot knife that cuts open butter, and at the same time drags the other person towards the retreat direction he has long been optimistic about.

No mistakes, one song, one content, one in 6, one book, one bar, one reading!

"Who are you?"

The Steel Knights champion asked in a low voice, but his body had instinctively moved with Clarks.

"No time to explain now," Clarks replied. "But I am a...savior. We have to leave before the smoke bomb effect ends."

They rushed into the intricate alleyway, and the footsteps of pursuers came from behind. Clarks led Caduro to shuttle through the three-dimensional maze-like streets, and from time to time, he shot back and forth with extremely accurate shooting of several dark spiritual pursuers who were chasing too close.

"Left!" Kaduro suddenly shouted, his palms holding for a moment, as if he wanted to slash with a sword, but he forgot that his sword was taken away by his hunter.

However, Clarks had also noticed the attack. He turned his back, and several vicious crystal dart fragments flew past his head and crotch at his original position. The Lord of the Crow threw out a plasma grenade with a little anger. It flew out, as if it was shot out from a mini macro cannon, blowing the surprised sniper into a ball of dust.

Even so, the sound of the dark Eldar flying motorcycles and other aircraft that were clamoring and shouting and excited to join their favorite hunting feast was increasing.

Clarks certainly had something to rely on. He led them here just to lead them in the opposite direction, and at the same time, he could easily use a large shadow space rune that could temporarily transfer creatures other than him to quickly leave this hell and return to the safe Destiny Steel.

Well, although this is actually a very contrary to the fast direct connection without security check channel (reflecting the safety and anti-psychic defense regulations of Magnus, Pertulabo and Dorn), this shadow channel is a one-time channel that is created at any time, and only the creatures Clarks himself can pass it once when used, so he thinks it is just a special method to quickly return to his post. There is no big problem. You see, he doesn't open this channel every time.

"Hurry me!" He turned a corner and saw the rune point that only shone in his shadow vision. Then he stretched out his hand again, grabbing the Caduro who was also running behind him, and was somewhat inexplicably confused. "Close your eyes a moment, don't talk or let go no matter what happens--uh!"

A slender figure suddenly burst out from the side with a dizzy super high speed like a shell, rushing out of the thin wall, splashing out into pieces of debris.

"Pong!!!"

She just crashed into Clarks' arms holding Kaduro.

The shadow rune shone with the light of activation, and the black gushed out like liquid, instantly swallowing the three of them.

Then, when the gathered airships and motorcycle pursuers arrived here, there was nothing but shadows and ruins.

On the floor of the Destiny Steel, Clarks stood with Wanas' body and Kaduro in the fading tide of shadows, silently looking at each other.

The latter's eyes were still full of doubts and vigilance, and he looked at the arms of the person who had just saved him.

There was a dark elves with blood on her head, her eyes filled with confusion and fear, which was very different from the rest of the residents of Comoros.

"Save...save me...I...important...information..." she muttered weakly, almost inaudible, and then fainted.

Just as the King of Crows decided to turn her into a corpse that was destroyed, a voice came from above his head.

"What is this? Huh?"

(This chapter ends)

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