The soldier guarding the gate of the barracks was annoyed and his comrades beside him complained. "What does it have to do with us..." "Oh, if we don't kill those Sakaz, we will be killed by them. Don't you understand such a simple truth? What have you gained? You saved your own life." "Yeah...wait a minute. Do you hear anything? Who is humming?" He suspected there was something wrong with his ears, but he didn't rule out that someone passing by might hum a tune. "I didn't hear it, but I just felt it was so hot." The companions on the side have already started to fan themselves with their collars. "Is it so hot? I still feel cold," "You're not sick..." He fell down, his body as stiff as a stone. It was obviously summer, how could he freeze to death?
Ah, the familiar scream... It's my companion. His body is on fire, and he can smell the charcoal. The humming of the tune was getting closer. Someone walked between them step by step. That's a... demon. "Enemy attack! Enemy attack!" "Sarkaz! It's Sarkaz!" All soldiers quickly entered combat mode, but what awaited them was countless Sakaz witchcraft. "Ah...ok, it hurts..." Blood suddenly flowed backwards, gushing out from his seven orifices, squeezing blood out of him like a sponge. The blood seemed to be alive, turning into hideous monsters and pounced on other comrades. "Okay, it's so cold...I can't move." "It's so hot...fire, it's on fire! Help me!" Cold and heat are the wrath of the Balrog and the silence of the scavenger. "What a harsh sound...wait, wait..." The bone whistle sounded like a death bell over the camp, and the soldiers fell to the ground one by one. Death claimed their lives in many ways. The people who survived wanted to kill the monster that broke in and killed people randomly, but their weapons couldn't break through his shield at all. The shield made of fine crystal stones blocks all attacks and even reflects the magician's spells.
"The hero... is about to set off..." Worm kills all life within the sensing range. The fire burned from him and separated from his body. The soldiers rushed towards him and attacked him. He regarded them as enemies and killed them. Draw out their blood, scorch their flesh, crush their bones. "Go to the distance...to find answers..." One enemy after another fell. Worm hummed the tune of the ballad, mentally counting the number of his dead compatriots over and over again. "57..." 57 compatriots died in this persecution. He wants to avenge these 57 compatriots. The Demon King kills all enemies who stand in his way and kills all enemies who escape. He broke into the central area of the camp. He met the nobleman who had given the order. "Devil! Demon! I knew I should kill you all!" The fire-clad demon slaughtered his troops, and now it was his turn. He screamed, he was scared, he was angry. He still stood aloof and regarded Sakaz as untouchable. Yes, he shouldn't be killed easily with one knife. Memory, Sakaz's memory emerged from his blood, allowing Worm to know many, many ways to torture his is he going to use it on the opponent? "Beva..." This is the name of one of his Demon King's guards, who admires him very much and swears to die for him. This knife didn't go deep, it just cut off half of his waist. "Culette..." This was a craftsman he knew, and he gave him a gold plate engraved with Worm's name as a gift. The knife was inserted in the wrong position. Wurm originally wanted to insert it into his left lung, but it inserted into his right lung instead, and the sharp blade smashed his lung lobes into pieces. "Abella..." The girl who looked very cold but had a hobby like reading story books also said that when she got married and had a child, she would ask her devil to baptize the child.
With this knife, Worm cut off a piece of his leg meat. One name after another. Knife after knife. Under Sakaz's witchcraft, he could not is arrogant, he is fearful, and he begs for the blade still fell firmly. "Fuqiu..." seven names. last name. Wurm did not use a knife. He clamped the opponent's neck and lifted the dying nobleman up. The devil's sharp claws pierced his chest, stuck his sternum, and uprooted his head and spine. His death expression was filled with reluctance and fear. The Demon King held the enemy's head and walked step by step towards where he came from. "Trust me. Everybody." The fire of hatred soared into the sky behind him, turning the surrounding area into a scorching sea of flames, burning everything. 121. Don’t forget hatred, don’t just focus on hatred Southern border of Ursus. The melodious sound of the piano floated over the burning camp, the pale flames melted the steel into liquid, and the blood-stained demon king appeared in the flames holding the head of the enemy him, gold and iron turned into water, earth and stone turned into wax, and flesh flew into smoke. A full guard regiment of Ursus nobles was reduced to ashes in the hatred and anger of the Demon King. Arturo saw results that satisfied her. The withering of a little life made the devil understand what hatred is. His bonds were broken by the arrogant and ignorant nobleman himself, at the cost of his own life. "Worm, my master, you have accomplished a great revenge." She put down the piano in her hand. Ursus' instrument was a little uncomfortable. "What's the use of revenge. Our dead compatriots can't come back to life." Wurm's emotions did not become high because of his successful revenge. "The team is waiting for you, do you want to go back now?" "I want to... take a break." One person was the enemy of a full bodyguard regiment of a thousand people. Even the Demon King, after fighting all the way, his mental and physical exhaustion slowed down his pace. "...If you don't mind, just rest here."
Sakota put the piano aside, and then straightened her skirt. The soft legs that were folded together and the long rock under her body formed a bed that looked quite comfortable. "Are you leaving, Arturo?" Sakota's lap pillow was very comfortable, and the faint scent of laundry detergent and wafting body odor on her body was like a wonderful fragrance before bed. Worm remembers him telling everyone to stay in the followed, presumably to leave the group. "I already have an idea for the premiere song of Lord Worm, and I'm satisfied with this trip." Worm's hair was very soft, and the fierce fighting did not make it dirty, and the feeling of stroking it was reassuring. "You are already qualified to be a king." "Okay...I give you permission to leave." The young king of Sakaz closed his eyes, and the breeze blew by, sweeping the smoke away from the land and causing tranquility to fall again. Before he closed his eyes, Arturo saw that these beautiful pale pink eyes had regained their gentle shape after releasing the burning fire of anger. Worm's performance gave Arturo some insight. His revenge has boundaries. Revenge is not what he wants to do most in his heart. He is still not free and he still cannot witness it. Well, maybe revenge is also a factor that makes him unfree. "I hope that next time we meet, I can see you truly break free." The boy's lips had lost a lot of moisture due to the long battle, and there were some cracks on them, which looked very uncomfortable. "Whether it is the playing hand or the instrument itself, it requires careful maintenance to prevent it from decaying and breaking." She carried a lip balm in her pocket, which had some honey and mint in it, so it tasted sweet. "Huh... um..." A gust of wind blew through, waking Worm up. He received a parting gift, the Sakota musician left him a mobile phone that belonged to Arturo. "..." His clothes had turned to ashes in the fire, and Worm used the Stonewing's carapace to cover his body. "Have I let you down... Theresa." He did not leave immediately. He looked at the scorched earth behind him and remembered who had said those words to him. You can't resent anyone. "I can't do it, Theresia... give up hatred, I can't do it." But how could mother hear his words? 'It doesn't doesn't matter, Worm... We should remember the hatred and remember it forever. '
Theresia held the child tightly, her voice trembled, and there was still some crying in her words. 'But we cannot let hatred and anger control our sanity. We must mourn for the dead, and we must avenge the victims... We must also embrace hope and move forward with the living. ' The way the child was driven by hatred and mercilessly slaughtered his enemies made Theresia extremely frightened, panicked and grieved. "Warm!" When he returned to his stronghold, the bodies of the dead had been collected and placed together. The little devil stood in front of the cave on crutches and looked at him. He was relieved when he saw his face.
