Twenty Sided Dice

On the other side of Cab Town, Priest Dorn walked slowly in the narrow, dark underground passage of Shaq Manor. He was a little absent-minded, and although he saw the delicate and intricate statues on the sandy floor and marble walls, no pattern actually entered his mind. At this time, even an apprentice assassin who had just joined the Temple of Murder could easily stab him in the back - but whether it could be effective was another matter.

Only those skilled in the use of daggers know the power of daggers, so Dorne is extremely honored and grateful that he can be transformed by the gods. The mighty power of the God of Murder is surging in him all the time, reminding him of his important place in the whole world.

"We are the only real power in the world." The words of the saint in black seemed to ring in his ears again: "Everything will die, and we are the most respectable mortuary of all living beings. The way to contribute, create a gorgeous curtain call for them, and listen to their confession when they take their last breath. At that moment, when their thirst for life is so powerful, they can only watch it disappear. At that moment, you will To truly appreciate the power of the murderous god."

Dorn was moved to tears and fell to his knees begging to be able to contribute to the **** of murder. He soon became a black priest and began to study the knack of transformation to death. He can now give death directly, but it is very difficult for others to give him death in the same way, which makes him very proud.

The corridors seemed endless, but Dorne knew it was nothing more than a magical effect, leaving unexplained visitors lost and unable to find their way out. He knew how to walk to avoid this dilemma, but he also knew how to take advantage of the effect of walking, and he liked to think while walking. And in the endless corridors, the howls from the arsenal can be heard from time to time. Every howl means a new glue man has appeared. It means that the servant of the **** of murder has another tool.

Only religious priests like Dorne are the true servants of the God of Murder. Other assassins, spies, and scouts are actually just tools like the "glue people" they made. Those white and transparent glue people are just geeks crossed between oozes and humans. They have intelligence but no soul.

Think of the soul. Dorne's body trembled like a *. He loved all kinds of souls too much. Small, fragile, not much brighter than the flame of a candle, but able to withstand hundreds or thousands of splits and cuts. A strong mercenary or knight can turn into dozens of glue men, and their martial skills are the same as the previous body. The world has a lot of misunderstandings about the God of Murder, but Dorn has seen the production of glue people and knows that it is the power of creation, the power from death to life!

Donne patted his head lightly. Why did his mind go to the glue man again? Still thinking what's the use of these? The plan has been made. All the servants of the temple will be turned into glue people. Only priests who can feel the grace of God and can release spells continue to maintain their current bodies, or become the quasi-chosen people of God like him, with new bodies with no vital weaknesses. Soon, there will be an army of copies of the strongest assassins and warriors in the world, to execute - "Dorne..."

Donne stopped, who was calling him in the Infinity Corridor? Is this another assassin training, or is he hallucinating?

"Donne, come here." The voice sounded again.

Donne burst into tears. He recognized the voice. The holy man of the murderous **** was standing in the shadow of the corridor pillars, only dimly discernible as a black outline. If it wasn't for the sake of being able to find it, the saint wouldn't even reveal his outline. They are shadow and darkness themselves.

"I listen to your teachings, carry out your orders, and serve your will." Donne knelt on the ground, took that cold hand like a dagger, and pressed his lips to it. There is no temperature, no smell, and even the shape is illusory, this is the real power, Dorn thought moved.

"You have been thinking hard, this is a rare trait among my many servants, I will test you and reward you for this." The saint said: "Not long ago. An old friend followed in my footsteps, come To the town of Cabo. Hide and peep among the leaves. I don't like elves, they are addicted to poetry, music. They waste countless hours, so they should use death to make them realize the preciousness of these hours."

"I will serve you and kill the elves near Kaibu Town, it is my honor."

"Oh, you can do ordinary elves, but elves saints are beyond your ability."

Donne opened his eyes wide, and then lowered his head again: "Yes, Lord Saint, my strength is not enough to destroy the servants of the Elf God, but I believe that with your help, this is not an difficult task."

"Ha, you're a smart guy, but did you forget something?"

"The test, my lord, I dare not forget for a minute." Donne lowered his head and suppressed his excitement. The last test set by the God of Murder was to find a way to get out of the top of Mora, to bring out the magical device used to make the glue man. After success, he obtained the body bestowed by God. The God of Murder is about careful layout and flawless execution, both of which are indispensable. So for servants of God, they, pastors, need to practice this philosophy. They don't wield mace, shout useless slogans on the battlefield, and charge like wild boars. Instead, like a wise chess player, use **, use fear, use deceit and scheming to arrange everything and achieve wonderful victories.

"You are very smart," the saint in black touched Dorn's hair with his hand, as if the elders were encouraging the younger ones. "The elf saint only needs one glance to see through your beliefs. After all, the burning god-given power in your heart is like a beacon, and your hidden ability is not enough to deceive him. I give you a handle that can kill the saint. But it's up to you how you get there. Remember, the result is important, but without the process, the result will be pale and powerless."

The saint in black flipped his hand and took out a black stone dagger, using cold alchemy as the handle. If Siegel was here, he might cry out in surprise. Because in addition to some differences in the shape of the dagger, this is obviously a replica of the obsidian dagger.

"There is no blade, but it is extremely tough and sharp, and even the skin made of divine power can't resist it. There are four such daggers in this world. Apart from this one and the one in the hands of the God of Knowledge, there are two others whose whereabouts are unknown."

"After completing this task, I will set out to find it."

"Don't worry, my servant, plan one thing at a time." After sending out the dagger, the icy voice and blurred outline of the saint in black gradually disappeared, leaving only Dorn still kneeling on the ground in the endless corridor. There were still tears on his face, but his whole body was full of strength.

Taking three deep breaths on the ground, Dorn stood up against the wall. He carefully rubbed the dagger made of obsidian, and every texture and crack on it showed the original power, and he seemed to see the originality of the moment when the world was born. It is said that death is earlier than the birth of the world, and will be later than the destruction of the world. It is the only existence greater than eternity.

He kissed the dagger and accidentally cut his lips, which he regarded as a warning and a lesson to him. There is no time to delay, and the strategy must be formulated as soon as possible. He looked at the corridor, walked forward quickly, and stopped beside a dragon statue. Pull the dragon tooth firmly until it makes a clicking sound. A secret door opened from the wall, revealing a dark passage behind.

Darkness is a friend of the **** of murder, and certainly does not interfere with the actions of his priests. After blending into the shadow, Dorn returned to his room in one step.

Under the dim light, a woman with a full body was tied to a cold iron plate, unable to move. Her body is mutilated, and there is only one left of all pairs. Her body was opened, her internal organs were exposed to the air, and she was still moving tenaciously, maintaining her dying life.

After hearing the movement with her only remaining ear, she made a faint voice, begging for her own death. But death is cheap, and the true blessing should be the wonderful journey to it. Dorn loved this woman so much, how could he let her leave him?

He always connected his senses to her, transferring the pain to himself when harm happened. Due to the nature of the God-given body, he could no longer feel pain and fear except in this way, especially the fear of death caused by fatal injuries. It is by relying on his lover that he can relive that feeling again and again, and each time it can make him feel something and improve.

Especially when he needs to concentrate on planning, the pain and despair that surrounds him can make him calmer. Dorn kissed the girl's one eye tenderly, licked the blood from the empty socket with his tongue, and cast a healing spell. Under the mighty power of the God of Murder, death once again moved away from her so that Dorne could continue to hug his lover tightly.

"Oh thank you my love, we're together again." He continued to add wounds to the girl with his fingernails, taking a twisted joy in her desperate, pained eyes.

The priests cannot do the things that the saints explain~www.readwn.com~ or even get too close to the elves, otherwise they will definitely startle the snakes. Devil servants or mud-shaped killers in the dark will also trigger the elves' vigilance nerves, causing their actions to fall short. So only an assassin who is proficient in assassination is the best choice.

But why did the sage give the task to himself, but not directly to the assassins? Although most of the elite assassins are not currently in the New World, they can be dispatched to support them at any time through the teleportation array. It is believed that the top killers, with the assistance of the obsidian dagger, can use the paralysis of the elf saint to complete this work.

He buried his face in his lover's belly, forcing himself to keep thinking. It's not going to be that simple, never, especially after getting the body of a god. This mission should be more difficult than the one at Mora's Peak! His teeth kept opening and closing, biting his intestines hard, letting himself have a keen sense like a beast, so that he could feel the fleeting hunting opportunity.

What should be done?

Maybe unleash the power of the Solidarity, thought Dorn, or hire ignorant but powerful adventurers. (To be continued.)

ps: This is automatically released, please don't eat fat during the New Year.