Shadow 29
The setting sun cast a slanting glow on the crumbling wooden wall, and after using up an oily scroll, Penny finally squandered all the items with arcane components on her body. Due to her mind being linked to the magic net for a long time, her head was dizzy and heavy, and she could only lean against the city wall, looking at the battle below the city wall.
"Throw!"
The northern warriors rarely used bows and arrows. With a single order, more than a dozen sharp iron axes flew out with a whistling sound, cutting down several giant demons, which fell to the ground screaming as their bodies were slowly consumed by the flames on the ground.
Almost a hundred giant demons launched continuous attacks on the sentry post throughout the afternoon. In response, the Berserkers poured oil over the ground outside the walls and set it ablaze, engulfing the entire village in flames.
Although the giants had no weapons, they were robust and agile, and many of them managed to bypass the flames, climb up the city walls, and still caused a lot of trouble for the defending warriors.
That afternoon, two more fierce warriors fell on the city wall, and the remaining ones were all injured.
Cera's divine magic has been prayed in vain, holy healing spells have already been used up, and her body is stained with blood from the fierce battle.
The war has entered its final stage, and the last dozen or so Tauren are retreating in defeat under the hail of gunfire from the flying axes and other long-range weapons.
Anel unleashed a sonic boom, blasting a group of giants, his short bow shooting out sharp arrows that sent the giants tumbling into the sea of flames. After a long while, seeing the giants disperse, a scattered cheer erupted from the village above, and he leaned against the wall, panting heavily:
"One attack and it's hard to resist, this won't do."
Pan Ni nodded weakly, too exhausted to speak, and stumbled down from the city wall.
He finally experienced what it's like to have brain cells rapidly metabolizing in large quantities. Now, he just wants to rest for a bit.
The exhausted warriors around them also felt a great improvement in their mood, looking at the three Pennies' gaze. After an afternoon of fighting side by side, they could at least tell that these people were really here to help, and how much help they could provide was not the point; what mattered was that they weren't just watching from the sidelines. This alone was worthy of their respect.
The battle ended, and several small children emerged from the village houses nearby, surrounding the blood-stained warriors. Sera, who had removed her massive helmet, was apparently more popular among them. The divine favor of the Holy Warrior made her originally good-looking face even more beautiful, with a charm that attracted the welcome of the little ones.
"Miss, you're so beautiful."
The Holy Warrior's face turned slightly red, from young to old, she had never been in such a situation before, but the feeling of being loved made her feel very comfortable. She carefully rolled up the blood-stained battle robe: "Be careful, don't get stained with blood."
"Leatherman's men are not afraid of blood and war." The little boy raised his head, wiped two streaks of blood on his face, and looked heroic.
"Angel, you're bragging again!" The kids laughed and dragged the child away, playing and teasing each other as they went.
Serra's face broke into a smile, and she suddenly felt someone tug on her hem. She looked down to see a little girl staring up at her: "Ma'am, the village will be okay, won't it?"
Cera glanced at the sentry post soaked in blood and fire, her eyes dimmed slightly, then sparkled with excitement, took a deep breath, bent down and gently hugged the little girl:
"Believe me, Tyl's apostles will do their best to save every person who should be saved."
"Cough, don't spread your beliefs carelessly, the people here aren't buying what you're selling." The minstrel coughed and ruined the atmosphere with a sentence that could be considered a major buzzkill. The female holy warrior immediately stood up, furrowing her brow in discontent:
"Do you know? Mr. Stephani, with just this one sentence, I have sufficient reason to invite you to a duel."
"Seriously, those goody-goody types can't even crack a joke, what a boring little guy." Anel curled her lip and turned to see Penny lying under a big tree with his head hung low in thought, reached out and touched him: "Mage, what are you thinking about?"
"I wonder why so many ogres have appeared to attack this village, what's the reason behind it?" Panni said: "If we can find out that reason, perhaps the solution to our predicament lies within. If these attacks continue for a few more days like this afternoon, I highly doubt we'll be able to hold on."
As soon as these words were spoken, the wandering poet and the holy warrior both showed a thoughtful expression.
"It can't be denied that you have a point." The bard nodded: "Perhaps we should ask that old Sally Fen woman what she knows after all."
"Mr. Stefan, I wonder how many times you've received a duel invitation from childhood to adulthood? The way you speak... should be corrected." Another unpleasant voice came over from the side, Anel saw the witch he called 'old hag' walking over, scratching his head in embarrassment:
"Sorry, sorry, it's just a habit."
"I don't think this habit is good." Sally shook her head and turned to Penny: "I heard your consideration just now, after the battle this afternoon, I think we should give you enough trust. In fact, the reason for the giant demon's attack may be related to one of our elders."
Old man?
Penny thought about the information she had seen.
The first batch of Letheman Elders were the male Red Robes who chose to join the Northern Camp when the Red Robe Society split. After Letheman was established, these people belonged to the Witches' Council and were widely respected by the people of Letheman, but most lived in remote areas, rarely accepted apprentices, and were known for their expertise in crafting magical items.
Due to some reason, the Letheman witch association does not allow witches to come into contact with the technology of making magical items. Therefore, most of the craftsmanship of Letheman's magic products is passed down in the hands of these elders, and the status of the elders in the witch association is quite high, not under 'Ousuro'.
"Let's talk slowly." Sally led a few people into the small hut, sat down and rested for a while before explaining: "The elder who lives nearby is named Ocrus. He has very high wisdom and power, and is also familiar with the spirits of the nearby forest. The giant demon tribe in the forest has been afraid to make any rash moves because of this elder's existence. However, a few days ago, this elder suddenly disappeared without warning."
"So... if we find this elder gentleman, our predicament here will be resolved?" Seraph thought aloud.
"It's not that simple, because we don't know where to find him." Sally spread her hands: "We sent out a team to search his residence, and most of the valuable things were taken away. It seems he went on a long trip, but we don't know where he went or why he didn't notify us."
"Have you found any clues?" Penny asked
"Clues, there are some, but I haven't found any leads." The witch pulled out a thick leather-bound book, with a feather pen stuck between the pages, which seemed to be a wizard's research diary. Penny took it over, flipped through it, and gradually furrowed her brow:
"This monk's research seems to be... quite profound."
"Unfortunately, my magical abilities are innate and I haven't studied the arcane deeply enough to decipher this thing." Sally spread her hands: "Maybe you can make something out of it."
"Born with magical abilities, are you a mage?" Pennie looked at Sally in surprise.
Arcane spellcasters on Azeroth are divided into two main categories: mages, who wield arcane power through dedicated study; and warlocks, the favoured of the Burning Legion.
They may be born with a gift, or perhaps they have some magical creatures in their bloodline. They don't need to bury themselves in mysterious texts and numerous classics like wizards do, nor do they need to perform complicated preparatory work for spells. When casting spells, they only need to slightly summon with their thoughts, and the incantation will automatically appear in their mind. As time grows, their connection with the magic web will also deepen, making them the object of envy for many wizards.
Some of them have lower abilities and use magic to perform tricks, often becoming a wandering bard.
However, due to the ease of acquiring magical abilities, many mages' research work on magic is often sloppy and mediocre. Some can even cast spells while reciting incantations without recognizing a single arcane symbol, so doing magical research is still the specialty of wizards.
"Yes, so I couldn't decipher Mr. Okurusu's notes." Sally nodded with a hint of embarrassment: "If I could have deciphered them, perhaps the village wouldn't have lost so many people."
Sighed as he spoke.
Pang Ni flipped through his notes, his brow furrowing gradually. The several people around him all looked at him with expectant eyes.
"Little brother, it's all up to you now." The wandering poet whistled lightly.
"Don't interrupt, Mr. Stefani," Serra said with a displeased glare at Arnell.
Time passed minute by minute, Penny quietly finished flipping through the notebook and raised her head: "This master's research... seems to be related to the Shadow Plane... Looking at his last experiment, it seems that he wants to open a plane rift in his own home."
"Shadow surface?"
Sally furrowed her brow.
……
The more I write, the more it looks like a Running Man note... sweat...
I don't know if this writing style is good or bad.
Continue to ask for recommendation votes.