North tore open the blockade of a storm, and the corruption and filth spread, corroding all the disasters inside.
"If it weren't for you, a stupid woman, how could I be like this?"
He roared unwillingly, his belly bulged high, thorns with strange patterns sprouted from his flesh and blood, and his intact body seemed to be broken into several pieces.
"The villagers here are very delicious, aren't they." Hermione licked her lips, her face covered with evil patterns and red marks was extremely charming.
"I ate you too."
North tore open his stomach and took out a pool of blood-red liquid filled with the desire for life and threw it towards Hermione. He opened his huge mouth and kept cursing her in ancient languages.
The blood-red liquid that covered it grew flesh and blood, and the thorns quickly decayed and turned into dust all over the sky. The strong wind dissipated, the flames receded, and the thunder and lightning fell into the flood below.
The surrounding space was like a cracked mirror, the purple-black dust projected onto those places, and blood and flesh grew out, and thorns wrapped around Hermione in the middle.
In an instant, these scenes fell into a smooth ice mirror, were shattered by the red flaming sword, and fell into the flood that dissipated below.
The charred and burning flesh ball monster took the opportunity to break free from the flame tornado. The flesh thorns under the water broke through the flood, bringing with it a string of undamaged remains of the monster villagers and integrating them into its body.
The pile of twisted thorns and flesh strung together moved, and stretched out its tentacles toward Hermione in the sky, until it finally merged into the ball of flesh.
"Yanciel, my Jancil."
The fleshy thorn balls stand in the air like nerve cells, and the fleshy thorns grow back as many times as they are destroyed by the flame tornado and lightning.
North, who was confronting Hermione, had just cleaned away the thorns that kept popping up on his body, and his belly immediately bulged again. One arm was covered with dense eyes, and his thick thighs began to dry up and spread, with purple scars appearing.
It turned directly into a pool of blood-red liquid and adhered to the flesh ball thorns. The flesh thorn tentacles tried to tear apart the mucus, but they became entangled tighter and tighter, becoming crazy.
At this time, Hermione also felt that something was constantly invading her body, and the various large eyeballs densely connected to the occult were looking at her indifferently, turning from time to time.
The branding in her body lit up, including the twisted curves forming eye symbols that lit up to help her cut off these unknown connections, and the stinging cracking feeling disappeared.
The condensed fireballs in the sky erupted into clusters of black flames, which continuously merged and compressed with the red flames. The tornado that cut and melted away the flesh thorns became more violent and restricted the movement of the flesh balls in the air.
The blood-red liquid attached to it continues to seep in, leaving the thorns, eyes, and bulges on the surface.
Like a world-destroying meteorite, a huge red and black fireball fell, swallowed up the flesh ball, and then exploded. The scattered red and black flames destroyed all traces of Yansir Village floating on the flood.
Hermione, who was a little tired, looked at the sword in her hand. The rose wrapped around the hilt blossomed into a flower on the guard. The more she looked at it, the more familiar it became, and she thought of her sister, mother and others.
The dry and charred meat ball was thrown out of the blazing fire. A stream of flaming water rolled up and sealed it in ice, then shattered inch by inch.
North, who had been freed from his own pollution, opened his mouth of black mucus, "filthy", and the flames around Hermione were wrapped in deep, thick darkness.
She dispersed them with a swing of her sword, then a storm of fire swept through them and cleared them away.
The Yansil below turned into a sea of burning fire. The red mist in the sky was covered in flames. Countless tornadoes wrapped in flames filled the entire space. The rumble of thunder and lightning sounded from time to time, just like a scene of doomsday.
Both are in Sequence 2, so it is really difficult to kill the opponent.
Hermione pushed North back into the flame tornado again. Even with the sealed object formed by the weather warlock's characteristics, she could only suppress him.
This weird space should be almost unbearable. Fortunately, I lost my memory and was blinded for a long time without being tempted to do anything truly dangerous.
The most dangerous thing is to wear the necklace that restricts them. People like North eat the contaminated villagers randomly. Although their strength has been restored, the hidden dangers have also increased.
Is it the ability of evil gods? Let this space become like this, even mythical creatures can be deceived, just like people on TV, they should not play their roles.
Fortunately, he had enough protection. The original witch was reluctant to live outside the country, so she made an exception and reminded herself through the mark she left behind.
She didn't know how much sense North still had on the opposite side. Hermione really hoped that he would go crazy so that she could have a chance to kill him.
The evil god's pollution in the star gemstone of the necklace on the wrist has been dissipated, and the gray-white mist swept through it, leaving the mark formed by the twisted curve.
"Get out of here, all of you, get out of here."
North once again cleaned up the thorns and eyes that had grown out of his body. A pure blood-red outline was pulled out, and then wrapped and absorbed by him.
This made him mentally unstable and lost part of his calmness and rationality.
Of course Hermione would not miss this opportunity, and came to him and waved the red sword. Her claws covered with evil thorns grabbed the sword, but her palm was almost split in half.
Thorns wrapped around the sword, swelling up and cracking open to release all kinds of desires, depravity, and aphrodisiac auras.
North also tore open the flesh and belly to drain out the contamination again and threw it towards Hermione. He cut off the thorns and let go of the red sword and retreated away.
Hermione swept away the obstruction in front of her, put away the scattered ball of flesh, and directly drove the disaster to attack North. She wanted to completely tear the world apart.
Go back to the narrow and weird Swan Castle and see where else you can hide.
Fireballs like meteorites fell, turning this place into a world of flames.
The white edges began to tear apart under the violent vibrations, and the whole world disappeared like fragments.
Hermione returned to the room filled with oil paintings. The huge oil painting fell to the ground and shattered into pieces. Except for the sword, it was still intact.
North, who fell to the ground, remained in the form of a giant demon, with the bright red blood on his body constantly washing away, and the blood-red lines lighting up to suppress the crazy pollution.
The red mist and filth covered the oil paintings on both sides at the same time, cutting off contact, and the castle was constantly shaking at the same time.
"Let me see where else you can go."
Hermione's thick, burning hair squeezed out of her pale face and pointed at the person in front, waiting for the right opportunity.
North also stood up and drew out his bloody sword. The thick black filth corroded the surroundings, and fear and desire came again.
"Alista, this madman actually left a hole. If you hadn't been so stupid, I wouldn't have suffered so much. That's the same sentence."
After he finished speaking, he rushed forward and engaged in the most primitive struggle with Hermione, and the storm and flames filled it again.
Hermione felt that she was also being affected by a certain aura, and she wanted to fight, cause turmoil, and cause disaster.
Sword after sword struck North, and the condensed frost mirror was continuously covered with filth, and then froze and shattered.
The curse brought by the ancient language caused parts of the bodies of both parties to continuously explode and heal, and the red and black flames and filthy poisonous gas eroded each other.
"die."
The frost around Hermione shattered, and she directly cut open North's blood chest, and flames spurted out from there.
Feeling heavy and tired, he could only stop where he was, and did not immediately hit North, who was hit on the other side, with a finishing blow.
The castle shook violently, as if it was about to break. The oil paintings were revealed again, directly dispersing the red mist and filth covering it.
The purple wall began to flow out of bright red blood. There was no filth like North, but pure killing and rage.
Cracks appeared one after another, and Hermione became bitter when she saw the scene of imminent destruction. She had done nothing.
Thinking of the broken and mixed spirits in the mirror, the whole person seemed to have lost all strength.
The flames wrapped around her body and hair became dimmed, feeling sad for her.
"Put the sword back in quickly. Do you want to let them all in?"
A cold voice came from the mark left by the original witch in his body.
The castle continued to shake and shatter, and the oil paintings on the wall began to come to life. The eyes inside kept turning and were about to squeeze out. All around it, large and small eyes opened instantly to look around.
Thorns spread out one by one, like tree roots, and their skin was covered with a thick yellow liquid that was constantly shaking.
Some walls have big bulges, and the sound of heartbeats can be heard from inside, giving birth to new life.
Purple crumbs and powder fell down and were picked up by the wind, scattering inside the cracked castle.
The walls that were broken into pieces seemed to exist in different spaces, just like paintings.
…
On one side, Duke North still maintains the appearance of a giant demon, with blood-red evil patterns flowing on his body and thorns growing out of him to wrap him up.
The eyes and bumps disappeared, layers of yellow mucus flowed out to completely cover him, and the thorns that penetrated the bloody flesh flew up, responding to the companions on the wall.
"Great father of demons, mother of desire..., I beg for your forgiveness, for your protection, please forgive me, I will serve you all my life and become your most devout believer...
He kept bowing his head and praying. Those thorns showed no sign of fading away, but they also did not continue to grow.
Hermione, who still wanted to go over to finish the damage, was unwilling to do so. The place was filled with all kinds of power and pollution, which weakened her fire and storm.
Thinking of the things in the oil painting, she reluctantly inserted the red sword filled with red flames back into the remaining oil painting that had lost all color and was blurry.
The red sword shook a few times as if reluctant to let go, wanting to merge into Hermione's body, and the red mark burst into intense flames.
This made her struggle extremely, and she was reluctant to let go of the red sword. She didn't want to.
The sky above the castle has been broken into half, revealing the dark sky above and the bright stars in the sky.
Under the black screen directly above, there is a huge crack that has darkened significantly, extending into distant darkness at both ends.
The eyes of different colors there, red, gray-white, gray-green, and white, kept blinking close to here, staring at Hermione below.
It feels like you are face to face, even though they are still so far apart.
She felt that the power of her body was constantly surging, and the breath was entangled in it to cut off the malicious pollution. The flames ignited by the red hair became more fierce, and the intense red light of the cracked red marks on her body covered her whole body.
The evil patterns also lit up with black light, and blurry faces emerged from the hair tips, screaming in pain.
The gray twisted curves left by the Fool and the mark of the original witch reappeared on his body, resisting the unknown maliciousness above.
The red sword, full of flames and flowing like blood, was inserted back into the oil painting reluctantly and let go.
She didn't know why she felt a little lost and lost in her heart.
The fallen walls returned to their original positions piece by piece, and the blood flowing out covered the oil painting, shaping the original frame of the castle.
The destroyed things were also reorganized, and things that had been squeezed out of the painting began to move backwards, or were covered in blood and disappeared.
The cracked red marks on Hermione's body also disappeared, and the evil patterns were repaired, emitting light to resist the erosion caused by the pollution of the castle.
The flames on the red hair also dissipated and extinguished, leaving blurred faces on the floating hair, looking around in confusion.
The masculine flames and steely courage dissipated, and Hermione once again turned into a charming and charming appearance, exuding the most beautiful temptation.
The darkness brought by depravity and desire also returned at the same time, and the roar of fear shook the mind.
"North, you think I'm afraid of you."
The black flames spread over and the frost froze the filth. Hermione held the ice mirror and tried to reflect North into it.
North hit all the thorns flying around him, and the ice mirror shattered directly. Hermione stepped back to avoid these strange things.
"I'm not in a good state right now. Next time I will definitely cut your body into thousands of pieces and make it a tool for me to vent my anger."
After saying that, he disappeared and left here. Unexpectedly, the thing he had been trying to avoid happened, and he finally did it.
He thought of Tatiana and Hermione, the two culprits, as well as himself, and heard that it was Alistair's legacy of greed and regret.
This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! Finally, he disappeared here unwillingly. If he stays here any longer, he will have no self. The moody master will not be kind.
The castle has been completely restored, the oil paintings on both sides seem to have solidified, and the huge oil painting in the middle has been restored.
The red sword wrapped in flames was still stuck in the lower part of the middle, and the surrounding image was blurry, as if it had been washed away by water.
Her vision changed quickly, and before Hermione could continue to observe, she was squeezed out and returned to a forest to sit on the ground. The evil patterns on her body began to fade away, and her red hair returned to normal and spread around her head.
He hurriedly took out the pocket mirror that he had put away. Inside, there were light spots of broken and merged spirit fragments. He still failed.
Some regrets, sadness, sadness, and fear of thinking back.
"Is this sad? It's really not like you used to be sad for an ordinary person."
The original witch's cold voice came out from the brand in her body, with some emotion.
"Do you know why that sword is so familiar? Because it was dug out of your sister's body, it should be better to say brother." A sneer and smug voice came from the body, as if it was a joke.
The mirror in Hermione's hand fell to the ground and cracked, with crystal tears dripping on it.
The Red Rose Sword is formed by the characteristics of the Weather Warlock: calling, familiarity, and friendliness, that is to say... that is to say...
She put her hands on the ground, bit her lips tightly, her light blue eyes were filled with mist, and she fell there as if she had lost all strength and support.
The expression on his face became painful and helpless, and his breathing gradually became heavier.
After so long, her tears finally came back, but only the tears came back.
