Underground of the Kane Arena, due to the energy interruption, it fell into complete darkness, which seemed cold and distorted, and under the influence of some kind of force, the reality was no longer stable, and the invisible person with shadow as the flesh began to wander.
They whispered and waved, promising that as long as any spiritual race approached their own realm, this race that had nurtured the God of Chaos by its own decline would gain infinite joy.
But the dark spirits that hurried by were avoiding the singing of the living beings.
They must stop the apes that are rushing out of the darkness.
These guards are stationed in the arena all year round, so they can understand the structure of these roads just by remembering, and the direction of the other party's movement is also in their control.
When a heavy door rolled to the side in the roar of the bulky hydraulic device, the leader's dark spirit stopped.
They stood in a dark corridor, so quiet that their cruel hearts were shining, beyond any natural darkness that even their slender helmet mask could not see through.
The warriors of the conspiracy group crouched and slid forward, holding the blade and the poison crystal rifle tightly in their hands, waiting for the battle.
Suddenly, a spark burst out from the intermittent lumen belt, and the sparks sparkled illuminated the corridor.
The light that was supposed to be powered off briefly lit.
In an instant, the blood of these Comoros people solidified, and the scene in front of them made their pale skin even more pale.
It only appeared for less than a second, but was engraved into the minds of every spiritual race through fear.
The entire passage was filled with evil fleshy bodies, and this short ray of light flashed across the smooth skin, seductive smiles, and the rough surface of the terrifying jagged claws.
The people of Comoros hesitated, fear emanating from their thin bodies, drifting through the air like perfume, attracting something that looked at them with a smile.
Then a pure howl of ecstasy came from the mouth of the nearest monster.
【Come on, cute little guys…】
It was speechless, its low voice was like honey and ashes, grinning with a creepy smile, and seducing gestures with a clawed pliers.
[We are the manifestation of the prince's love for you. Come on, let us taste your taste, we will bring you to Him and let Him hold you forever]
The answer given by the Spirit tribe was a series of aggressive black poison crystals. The communication speakers and searchlights in the corridor suddenly became active, emitting a chaotic sound and light.
The demons sang songs, breathlessly breathing, dissipated in the storm of bullets, reappearing easily on the walls and ceilings.
The next moment, with the claws closing, the first victim's head and limbs were cut off.
When the demons touched the spiritual clan's face armor affectionately and stole their eyes, a swearing sound in Comoros snake language came from the spiritual clan's helmets, but any attack or shooting could only further stimulate the demon's energy and plunge the Slaines into crazy violence.
In just a few seconds, the team of hundreds of people was only one witch spirit wearing a thorny gladiator armor. When the demon approached her and launched an attack, she cried silently, and then the laughing thing shattered the life of the spirit clan with a hug.
She fell to the ground with no beauty, and the demon still covered her.
The witch spirit lies in the arms of the demons and listens to their whispers, and welcomes her to receive eternal grace, a legacy given to her by the merits of her ancestors.
The corridor has become a morgue, and the killed alien corpses cover every piece of ground, turning into wet pieces of meat and minced meat. The air is filled with the pungent smell of corpse explosions, mixed with the banshee of the Scribe wrapped in the spiritual internal organs, and the unpleasant incense emitted when dancing in the blood pool.
Suddenly, the floor vibrated due to the movement above.
As the vibration became stronger and stronger, the banshees whispered and hugged their bodies in their arms, dancing gracefully, as if immersed in this bloody waltz.
The next second, all the demons turned back to the door, and their steaming bodies were covered with the blood of the spiritual race.
The door opened with a loud bang, revealing a tall figure, standing in the wild light of the corridor in the distance, like a metal god, a pair of red eyepieces flashing in the darkness.
He then took a step forward and another echo from the deck, strong enough to shake off the minced meat hanging from the ceiling and walls.
"So, Kayang."
A low voice was made in the helmet.
"Stop that thing first."
A second voice followed behind the giant.
“We have to spend more time without it.”
Before the words were finished, a blue flame appeared on all the banshees, and then they all screamed terrifyingly and eventually became ashes.
The Space Marines walked through this flesh-and-blood passage speechlessly, but as soon as they left the exit, several silver arrow-like figures rushed towards them, and in an instant everything around them seemed to have fallen into slow techniques.
For a moment, Soshiyan thought it was just a flash until he saw clearly that the creatures running along the ground had limbs and weapons.
"It's a clown again!"
The Alphas shouted the war, Okam raised his weapons and ordered the soldiers to face the enemy, but their speed was painfully slow compared to the shiny blades that the opponent stabbed out together.
This is a completely different team, composed of several troupes' troupe leaders, pantomime masters, and film and television workers. It is obvious that Kayang's behavior of driving the Slaane Demon has angered all the troupes of clowns. They have organized the most elite team to be ready to strangle this group of dangerous enemies.
Soshiyang just saw the expressionless pale mask and the curved two-handed sword-and then the silent shrouded troupe suddenly appeared in front of him, dragging the mist and the flowing weapons into an arc and heading straight for his face.
Soshiyang immediately put the weapon on his chest and barely blocked the attack.
But the attacker was not bound by the reaction force, but instead danced around Soshiyang in a more agile posture, and seemed to be able to foresee every move of his actions in advance.
Not only Soshiyan, all Space Marines must dodge under the blade of the Harlequin Elite, and more figures flashed through the shadows, cut into their front like swords, and headed straight for Kayang.
Now the focus of the attack is on Kayang. Eight film and television players, three pantomime masters, and the troupe leader of Frost Stars are attacking him. Even with the help of the magic script, Kayang is struggling to deal with it.
"Damn it!!"
Soshiyang growled in frustration, trying to make a powerful blow, but the opponent easily dodged.
The strength of the troupe leader and ordinary harlequin are completely different.
"Get out of here!"
Soshiyang let out a heavy breath, forcing his muscles to move faster.
"You are destined to die here."
The troupe that whispered in his ear smiled, and then avoided it like a magic trick as the moment the sharp blade whizzed past.
Chapter completed!