Just as Typhonse was about to kill the insect in her hand, suddenly, an impact came from behind. Typhonse staggered a few steps, and then threw the prey in her hand to the ground.
A snake man slipped behind him at some point and tried to cut his head from behind with a weapon, but was disturbed by a large number of poisonous insects and could only chop on his shoulder.
Taifons held his sickle with both hands, and turned around and stabbed the curved sickle blade into the back of the snake man's abdomen.
It was a rough, savage, less elegant attack, more anger than a martial art or move.
The snake man twitched and waved violently with his hands, but his hands could not reach the enemy.
Typhonse mumbled and stabbed the sickle deeper, and the beast broke down from the middle like a cut down tree and stopped standing up.
Turning his head, he saw a cowardly pointed ear aiming his chest with a gun. Typhonse did not dodge, but rushed straight towards the poor man.
The dark spirits took a step back in surprise, and the bullets shot severely deviated from the target.
Taifons snapped the bladed poison crystal gun from its hand, and at the same time made a furious battle cry, enough to make the timid pointed ear turn around and run away.
He escaped quickly, but not fast enough-Typhonse hooked the sickle on the shoulder of the pointed ears, and the pain made the other person's body twist like a snake, roar, spit, and struggle to escape.
Then, Typhons threw it face down into the blood, nailed it to its place with a sickle, and then stepped heavily on its back, watching the armor and bones of the spirit race trampled by him like dead branches.
He felt very happy because of this.
Soon, Typhons's team rushed from the front yard to the mansion.
There are still many dark elves fighting stubbornly. Taifons is unwilling to continue to waste time. He took a deep breath and sang a deadly ballad.
The power of witchcraft flows through the air, lengthening many human skin furniture, twisting the walls, and filling these dead bodies with greed desire for blood and torn flesh.
When I saw everything around me began to change, the cruel laughter of the Dark Spirit quickly turned into a panic cry.
This time, the Asian Space responded to them.
There were harsh screams echoing in the hall, and spots of shadows appeared on the dark floor. They were covered with moss, vines and algae. The curved claws were covered with lichens, their faces with dull smiles were covered with peat, and the rotten slags seemed to be an ugly mask, and their eyes were like two purple flames, burning constantly.
The first note of the Nurgle Demons pierced the depths of the senses of all the spiritual races, and their voices were as sharp as frost.
They are not like predators, but like butchers. As they sway at the Dark Spirit, their knotted claws tear the flesh of their armor and their heavy horns smash the bones.
Typhonse saw a screaming elves almost torn in half, and the gardener from the Father's Garden raised the blood-stained body, herpes-filled head leaning back, grinning, and then blood poured down like a spring shower.
The Dark Spirit tribes tried to fight back, and the pulses shot from their heavy weapons fell like jagged lightning, and like raindrops to the heart of the fathers.
But they were unmoved, and even if these caused some damage, they didn't care at all.
In the vortex of the rust knife and blunt sword, Typhonse was not idle either. He swung around the encirclement of many spiritual races, waving her sickle in a wide range, but he was not a desperate beast, nor was he a prey that needed to be hunted or tortured.
He is the slaughter!
Soon, Typhonse's feet were covered with corpses.
At this moment, a spiritual tribe in black and golden armor widened his eyes in horror and tried to run past Typhonse.
Taifons reached out to grab the thing without thinking.
"No! No!"
The one who was caught was the owner of the mansion, a senior member of the Black Heart Conspiracy Group, but now his status is useless. Under the iron fist of the Lord of the Destruction Fly's Nest, his shouts turned into gurgling howls.
A few seconds later, Typhonse threw down the body, and the spirits in the mansion basically died or ran away.
"The ceremony begins without delay."
After giving the order, Typhonse turned around and prepared to go to the courtyard, but stopped in front of the threshold and enjoyed the quiet darkness.
For a moment, he and the darkness were here.
He breathed it and sucked the void into his body.
At this time, the followers had piled up the bodies of the Dark Spirits in the courtyard and began to perform dark rituals.
Taifons raised his head, and the cold light drifted around the hall like snowflakes, outlining the figures of other residents in the darkness.
The Lord of the Destruction Fly Nest smiled, raised his arms upwards, then a soft tentacle wrapped around his legs, shaking his body with a slippery clamp on the surface of the armor, and then repaired the cracks on his armor due to the battle.
Not long after, Typhonse walked out, looking like standing on a grass under the moonlight, but the squirming limbs at his feet were actually tentacle-like. Thousands of crawling on the ground felt Typhonse's existence and gathered together at his feet, swaying.
"Let's get started."
Accompanied by the awkward spell, a complex magic array appeared surrounded by the corpse of the spirit clan.
At first it was just a slowly sliding ink shadow, but the little creatures traveling around began to get restless. The shadow turned into a whirlwind of tentacles and teeth, chewing on the flesh of the spirit race, causing mist-like blood to rise from the corpse.
Typhons held the long handle of the sickle in his right hand, the power sickle was the iconic weapon of the first company commander, who let his weight drag on his arm like an anchor, as a gust of darkness buzzed on the edge of his mind.
A strange and strong smell began to permeate the air - sweet and spicy, like a flower blooming in the flesh.
Taifons had seen a powerful existence, and the buzzing vibration of the other party spread throughout his body.
It is pushing open the curtain of reality, taking heavy steps and moving forward steadily.
The company commander of the Death Guard felt a creeping, electric shock-like feeling flowing through his blood, like insects passing through the veins, buzzing in his head, and a black and silver flash appeared and disappeared at the edge of his sight.
Five minutes later, with the last spell, the pile of corpses exploded suddenly, and bone fragments splashed everywhere.
From the subspace vortex, a large piece of suppurated flesh and blood appeared.
Soon, its lower body split into two stump-like legs, its torso shattered, and its rotten internal organs flowed out of the cracks of its torso. The pale yellow horns pierced out of his shoulders, cracking in the smelly air, and its arms were like rotten trunks.
And on the monster's face, the one-eyed eyes suddenly opened and glared outside in anger.
However, after seeing Typhonse, its expression eased.
"Ah, Typhonse, my good friend, I knew you needed my help."
Typhons nodded and said to the devil prince:
"Murphy Dust, I need your help."
Murphy Dust is a demon prince who worships the evil god Nurg, nicknamed "The Epidemic Dangler", but he prefers to brag about his reputation as a "Thousand Plague Craftsman" to people.
But unlike many demon princes, Murphy Dust was once just a mortal.