Something's wrong with my undead

The Mad King thought for a long time about Heine's problem.

He was about to answer when the soul fire suddenly fluctuated strangely.

"Someone is coming."

He said.

"what?"

Before Heine could react, the opponent suddenly expanded, and the dark green flames directly enveloped him, and then both of them disappeared.

The gray fog began to wriggle and gather again, and was replaced by the illusion that existed before.

Cemetery, forest, cabin.

But this time there was no one in the house, only the crackling of the fire.

Soon, four figures arrived here one after another and gathered in the small courtyard in front of the wooden house.

"Ian?"

After seeing who it was, Olaf stepped forward excitedly, but after taking only two steps he suddenly drew his spear.

"Are you really Ian?" he hesitated.

Ian frowned: "What else do I want to ask you?"

He looked at Veronica and Tillemans beside him, and for a moment he was not sure whether they were real or fake.

"Hey! Ian, if our experience is published in the newspaper, how much royalties can you give me?" Olaf suddenly asked.

“Definitely no more than 20%.”

"You stupid idiot made of mud!"

Olaf sheathed his spear with a curse, but hesitated halfway through the action and became alert again.

What if... I guessed that he would say that, so the illusion said that?

Seeing his vigilant look, Veronica showed a helpless look.

"It seems that we have all underestimated this mad king and overestimated ourselves."

She stretched out her hand and summoned the silver-white flame, and the familiar soul defense barrier wrapped around her like an eggshell.

But there was only a bitter smile on her face:

"It is intact, but the illusion is still everywhere and we are still addicted to it..."

Seeing the flame and feeling the protective power from it, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Then his expression became unnatural.

Ian: "So, we've all been briefly immersed in some kind of dream, and then rescued by some 'external force', is that right?"

Veronica sighed, "I did, but judging from my remaining emotions, it can't be considered 'indulging' because it was undoubtedly a nightmare. The most overwhelming emotion I felt after waking up was gratitude, gratitude that I escaped from the hands of a powerful being."

Olaf: "Me too, but if the purpose is to rescue us, then it can indeed be called rescue..."

Tillemans hesitated to speak. She wanted to say that she seemed to have met a group of terrible people...

But in the end, she nodded helplessly.

"At least we can confirm that now that we have escaped from the illusion, we can no longer sense the existence of wind here, only deathly air," said the elf.

"And it is a non-aggressive dead energy. You can even call it 'the power of death'."

Veronica held out her hand in confusion.

As a shadow warlock, she had naturally dealt with death before, but those spells had their names changed so that they seemed to have nothing to do with undead magic.

However, she failed this time. Although these deathly energies would not attack her, they were also beyond her control.

Several people looked around, and finally their eyes fell on this familiar-looking cabin.

They each prepared themselves and walked in solemnly, but found nothing.

Ian: "Heine's experiences seem different from ours, and his skull..."

He suddenly fell silent.

So does everyone else.

Ian looked at the other three people, and each of them had an expression that was hard to describe.

It seems like everyone has something in their heart that is difficult to say.

For example, their "sweet dreams" were turned into nightmares by some strange and powerful individuals, and they woke up from them.

They only vaguely remember the conclusion, and the process seems to have been treated as a black history and protectively blocked.

However, that inexplicably powerful, weird, and detached feeling is exactly the same as someone's skeleton.

I'm afraid there's no other one like it in the world.

In fact, this is related to the passive destruction of the illusion.

Those who actively escape from dreams, like Heine, will remember the content of their dreams while they are awake.

However, those who were rudely expelled from the dream by the player will only retain a trace of memory before regaining consciousness, and then the dream will be ruined.

Perhaps Ian is the only one who is better off, but he fulfilled his promise, so he doesn't remember much about his "previous life".

So they looked at each other.

it is more than words.

My aunt tapped her brows lightly, looked around, then walked out of the cabin and looked at the starry sky.

"Sure enough, this is also an illusion, but it is an illusion woven by the power of death..."

She murmured, and then changed the subject: "Since the soul defense barrier has not been destroyed, it means that the spell that caused us to fall asleep is not among the items of the barrier defense. It is very likely to be a beneficial effect similar to the tranquilization spell, which will not arouse our vigilance.

"And the dream is more like Macara's 'copy'. Macara people have more experience than us, so I have reason to suspect that Heine has escaped and is even immune to that spell...

"So, he was targeted by the Mad King earlier than us, and he might be fighting with his skeletons in a place we don't know about."

"But if that's the case, then wouldn't the Mad King be similar to Loulton or Quirkus?"

Ian's face darkened: "In a place like this, its administrator is simply the embodiment of invincibility."

Hearing this, the other three looked a little embarrassed.

Manager is invincible?

So what are they in their dreams?

"Things may not always be the same."

Tielemans said softly: "The Mad King's body in the real world may be extremely weak, so he chose to exist in this way similar to a pure soul body. Moreover, even Macara has spirit street lamps and nodes all over the reality.

"Now that we are back in reality, our connection with the shadows and nature is blocked again. There must be magical devices like totems and barrier stones. We should try to find them, or at least destroy them from the outside to help Heine and his skeleton."

The four of them looked at each other and all thought that this was a good method.

So they worked together to destroy the scene formed by the deathly energy.

Amid the flying gray debris, Veronica keenly detected an unusual and familiar energy fluctuation somewhere.

"over there!"

Olaf's spear stabbed towards the place she pointed almost instantly.

Lightning flashed, and the spear pierced into the seemingly solid ground like a pile of gravel.

When he pulled out the spear, there was a rotten skull stuck underneath.

"Ian, look, what race is this?"

Olaf handed over the spear.

"How many times have I told you not to point your spear at others!"

Ian muttered and took the weapon sideways, avoiding the spear's lock and focusing his attention entirely on the skull.

Soon, the veteran archaeologist frowned.

"What's wrong?" Olaf came over and asked, "Who is this person?"

"Incredible... How is this possible?"

Ian pushed the spear away and glared at the heads of the other three men.

"What did you find?" Veronica asked hurriedly.

"This head is most similar to humans, Veritas or Macara, but it also has some characteristics of dwarves, elves, Ness, and Luku... From the perspective of species evolution, it may be our common ancestor."

"How can this be!?"

Tillemans was the first to scream.

Elf mythology says that the original elves were born from trees, so wood elves are the oldest elves.

But following Ian's instructions, she saw a clear fold-like bulge in the temporal bone.

That is a characteristic only of elves.