20. The Doomsday of the Mad King (Part 2) --- For Midsummer's Presumptuous Brothers [6/10]
"I asked, are you leading the wrong way on purpose?"
In the dungeon of Elrethalas, Mordent Yongying changed his clothes and was held by Luminas with a rune sword on his neck. Under the hidden protection of Leaf Shadow, he walked in the intricate city.
This former High-Elf Archmage is now in a very embarrassed state. A few years ago, he was thrown into prison by the tyrannical mad king because he opposed Tortheldrin's massacre of the people. If it weren't for Lumina,
Si unexpectedly saved him. I am afraid that in the battle tonight, he would die on the spot.
However, the Death Lord did not do good deeds. She only gave Mordent the necessary water and food, and then used weapons to force Mordent to take her to find the Holy Sword Quel'Sera.
"I swear, ma'am, I'm not leading the wrong way."
Mordent licked his chapped lips. Forced by the cold sword around his neck, he dragged his tired body and trudged through the familiar city. He was born in the elven empire and his morale was at its peak.
It had been ten thousand years, and judging from his experience, the strange elf lady behind him was definitely a ruthless character who would kill without blinking an eye. He didn't want to anger her, but there were some things he had to tell Luminas.
"Listen to me, madam, I don't know where you heard the story about the Holy Sword Quel'Sera, but what I want to tell you is that the Holy Sword has been damaged in the catastrophe, Tosei
That madman Delin has been trying to repair it, but he lacks a few key materials, so the holy sword has been in a damaged state. In addition, I don't doubt your strength, but the holy sword is placed in Torsedrin's palace.
, there are at least several thousand well-trained guards there who are loyal to that madman..."
Mordent coughed slightly:
"I mean... you better be prepared."
"More than a few thousand people have died by my sword..."
Luminas sneered, and she sent the long sword forward. The skin on Mordent's neck was immediately cut open, and blood flowed out. The weak Archmage immediately raised his hands, and then he heard death
The cold and ruthless voice of the lord:
"I don't mind killing thousands more in this damn place... I just want that holy sword, understand? Besides... what's going on with the bodies of you bastards? You're addicted to magic too, right?
"
Luminas is a high elf. Although she has a rare low magic constitution among elves, so she did not become Sarain after being awakened after death, but she did hear a lot about magic addiction from Tyrion.
It can be seen at a glance that the upper elf Mordent in front of him is very weak, but this weakness is not due to injury or long-term imprisonment, but because of his body's hunger for magic power.
And it's not just Mordent, all the upper elves that the young lady met along the way have this problem. In her opinion, this dungeon is simply an ugly lair of a group of magic addicts, full of people who have been defeated by magic addiction.
"Of course, magic addiction, haha, madam, you are also an elf, and it seems that you are one of the descendants of Dath'Rema. I have personally seen your ancestors, and they were also troubled by magic addiction, but I am sure that
No matter what happened to them, Syndra would be more fortunate... Our leader Torcedrin has long gone crazy, especially after his father Vilins disappeared... That cowardly guy was addicted to magic
Destroys sanity."
"He said he wanted to save us, but in the end, he led us into hell... 400 years ago, 170 years ago, 17 years ago, time and time again, I personally experienced those hells, overnight, to ensure
He and his henchmen were able to enjoy sufficient magic power, and he sent executioners time and time again to kill his own people and assassinate the endless stream of opponents...blood flowed like a river, blood flowed like a river."
The great mage seemed to be crazy, and he sat down on the ground without paying attention to the long sword Luminas put on his neck:
"The stolen magic power is never enough. Ten people share the magic power, and each one can only get one-tenth. Torsedrin went crazy. He killed five people, so everyone can get one-fifth. We
We stand on the sidelines, just because we can also receive favors, but our hands are stained with blood, just like those executioners... What weighs us down is not the lack of magic power, but the conscience in our hearts, the hidden conscience
...We deserve to die!"
"Everyone alive in this city deserves to die! There is no innocent person! They are all murderers! They are all murderers!!!"
Mordent seemed to have lost his mind. He was rolling around on the ground holding his head, screaming in pain, as if he was a complete psychopath. Luminas soon realized that she actually
I hired a madman to lead the way.
This made the young lady very dissatisfied. She raised her rune sword and was about to get rid of the noisy lunatic at her feet. But the moment she raised the sword, she suddenly had a flash of inspiration. The next moment, the young lady grabbed Mordent's hand.
Collar, she stared at the half-mad magician fiercely, slapped him twice to make him sober up, and then the young lady gritted her teeth and said:
"Then do you want revenge? Do you want to wash away the blood on your hands? You see, if you want to atone for your sins, you have to kill the person who caused all this disaster with your own hands. What is it called Tosselin? Or is it Tosselin?
Madman? As long as he is still there, you will not be able to get relief even after committing suicide. In short, what I mean is, I can give you a chance to atone for your sins! Do you want it? "
"Atonement?"
A glimmer of light flashed in Mordant's chaotic eyes. He knelt on the ground and grabbed the little sister's wrist with both hands. He screamed:
"Yes! Atonement! I want to atone for my sins and wash off the blood on my hands. Syndra can't kill anyone anymore! Our race can't just fall into the abyss. Tortheldrin is the culprit! Kill him! Kill him.
It's all over! What shall I do? Tell me, madam, what shall I do?"
"Ha, it's very simple."
Luminas grabbed Mordent from the ground. She imitated Tyrion's behavior when he was bewitching people, and patted the dust off the Grand Magister's body. She whispered:
"You just said that that madman killed many of your people, right? Tsk, tsk, it's so abominable. He deserves to be cut into pieces by a thousand cuts. But what I want to know more is...where did you bury those corpses?"
———————————————
"Hold the line! Protect our magic! No one can take that magic away from us! No one can even think about it!"
In the palace of Tortheldrin, the roar of the mad king Tortheldrin, who had long been driven crazy by the strange magic, echoed in the palace like a wild beast. This upper elf still retains the appearance of ten thousand years ago.
He has long lost the elegance he had when he was the Prince of Magic. Under that handsome body, hidden is a soul that has been living in an isolated city for ten thousand years and has long since become rotten and smelly.
In order to enjoy the magic power, he can mercilessly exile his compatriots into the wilderness to be eaten by wild beasts, or he can mercilessly trap and kill the magisters who have dedicated everything to Syndra's existence because of some rumors.
.
By controlling the rationing of magic power through dirty means, Torsedrin created for himself an army as shameless as himself. They were armed with enchanted weapons from the Elf Empire period, and in this small city, they fought with the power of a privileged class.
identity, ruling the city for their evil master.
Now, with their rule in jeopardy, Tortheldrin has made an enemy he cannot afford...and worst of all, that enemy could have been an ally of Syndra's, and it was his greed and madness that drove Kay to the throne.
Ersus was pushed to his opposite side, and he was about to pay the price.
The shadow of defeat shrouded Torsedlin. This was a fear he had never experienced in ten thousand years of mediocrity. It made his already overwhelmed poor nerves sway crazily again. He sat on a bed inlaid with gems.
On the throne, Tortheldrin was like a poor creature being roasted on the flames. His eyes were full of hysterical madness, and behind that madness was unbearable fear.
"They're coming... They're coming to steal my magic."
Torsedrin was sitting alone on the throne and whispering. He suddenly looked around nervously, like a beast infected by fear. Any disturbance would make him even more panicked. The loss of 5 magic hubs had already pushed him away.
When reaching the edge of a cliff, a weak person in a desperate situation often makes crazy decisions.
They must be crazy, otherwise once they calm down, the fear that has filled their hearts will swallow them up in an instant. If they don't want to face their fear, they must choose to be crazy.
"Guard! Guard!"
Tortheldrin suddenly shouted, and a moment later, several fully armed guards rushed into the palace. They looked at their mad king, who took a deep breath, with a strange light shining in his eyes, and he stood
In front of the throne, he whispered:
"Don't be afraid, Syndra's guards, you don't need to be afraid, because I already have a way to deal with the intruders..."
Guardsmen, look at me and I look at you. No one believes that the madman in front of them can defeat the enemies armed with steel outside. But now, they have no way out.
"Go! Tell the mages of the Magic Pool."
Torsedlin's eyes widened, his silver eyes filled with bloodshot eyes:
"Go tell them and prepare to unlock Immortar's seal... Our source of magic is already very "hungry", let it devour those ignorant intruders, make it stronger, and then...
.Then we will have enough magic to enjoy... Go! Go!"
Under Torsedlin's scolding, the guards knew that it was a crazy idea, but they still chose to obey the king's order. However, the moment these guards rushed out of the palace, they saw a picture
Weird scene.
The corpses of the dozens of soldiers guarding the entrance to the palace were lying on the ground. Their corpses were shriveled, as if all the blood had been drained, but in their dim eyes, there was still a trace of the past.
The last touch of fear before death was like seeing...like seeing a real hell.
"Hey, the Mad King's henchmen have come out again, that's great."
A cold and calm voice sounded in front of these guards. On the empty ground, a layer of light curtain was converged. Luminas, holding a pair of black swords, spread her arms. She tilted her head and used
Her blood-red eyes were fixed on the few lonely guards in front of her, and floating behind her was a large mass of blood-red mist that was difficult to describe in words. The mist was floating as if "alive".
"Ever Shadow!"
Luminas shouted impatiently:
"How long do you and your friends have to wait? The Valkyries of the Dark Blade have eliminated your addiction to magic and given you a new life... Now, it's your turn to repay the Dark Blade!"
"As you command...ma'am"
An indifferent voice sounded from the blood-red mist wrapped around the little sister's back. In the horrified gaze of several guards, the blood-red mist condensed into hazy figures one after another. They used their bloody power to condense gorgeous robes, and their
Their eyes were blood red, and their appearance showed no pain from being eroded by demonic addiction. Their skin was pale, and under the halo of light and the swaying blood-colored mist, they looked like floating avengers returning from hell.
Of course they were the Avengers. These guards kept retreating in extreme fear. They knew the people in front of them, and they had even executed some of them with their own hands.
These, these are the archmages who were assassinated by Tortheldrin in the past for disobeying him... Now, they are back from the cold tomb... bringing back new power, bringing back new
Will, brought back horrific revenge.
And the leader of these newly born high-level elves, Sarain, is surprisingly the half-crazy Great Mage... who was left to die in prison by Tortheldrin... Mordent Yongying.
"We serve a greater power."
Yongying raised his finger and pointed slightly forward. Behind him, beyond the 12 blood-red shadows, the energy filled with the power of blood was like a mist, roaring and blocking all the roads leading to the palace.
, amidst the extremely horrified screams of those guards, Yongying's blood-red eyes shone with a sense of joy for revenge.
Behind him, the corpses that had been reawakened from the dark tombs of the underground city were using the city as a hunting ground. Driven by the power of death, they wanted to take revenge on the executioners whose hands were stained with blood... despite being resurrected.
There were not many corpses, but under the dual pressure of the high elves and human coalition forces on the ground and the undead underground, the fragile order of this underground city had long since disappeared.
This "sanctuary" that the Sindra elves took nearly a thousand years to build is completely finished.
"Brothers...Torcedrin will die here, the Mad King will die in our hands...Sindra will usher in the true dawn..."
"In the name of Dark Blade! Punish that mad king... to death!"
