"Sir, if you are willing to wait, we can submit more information!" The middle-aged man took out some carefully kept notebooks, "We have comrades in all the major fortresses, including handymen, cooks, lower-level soldiers, and
Some have already become team leaders!"
Griffith took the note and flipped through it quickly. After Canaan's route to the outside world was blocked, agents from the Confederacy and Qiming County began to prepare backup intelligence collections and wait for the time to send them out.
The intelligence they prepared included but was not limited to maps, army deployments, Extraordinary abilities and characteristics, and fortress fortifications. However, they knew very little information about Canaan's high-level sealed artifacts and powerful individuals.
"I don't have time and must move immediately." Griffith put away his notebook. "Before the operation begins, we will send a stronger advance team in to join you."
"That's great! We have a guerrilla group composed of half-elves and humans, with weapons!"
These people will come in handy... Griffith nodded, stood up and prepared to leave. Intelligence work has its limits. If you want to find out Canaan's true strength and trump card, you can only rely on Griffith to test it personally or start a war.
Pre-offensive reconnaissance.
Before leaving, he remembered one more thing:
"The battle with Canaan is very dangerous. Have you thought clearly?"
The middle-aged man was stunned for a moment, "Are you asking why we did this?"
He looked at the little girl playing games outside the door and moved his lips:
"Ruila is six years old this year. In the early years, we lived closer to the city, where the food was fresher and the security was better. I even considered giving up this job and settling down honestly. After all, being
Being caught by the gendarmerie is no joke.
"I work on Pointy-Ear's farms and docks like everyone else."
Griffith said nothing. He saw the man's eyes looking far away:
"Two years ago, my wife contracted a strange disease. Scale-like moss appeared on her skin. Her fingers and toes were deformed, like bird claws. She couldn't sleep all night long. Many people living in the sewers suffered from this.
In this way, some people say that smelling the mist leaking from the cracks will make you feel better.
"We did it, and it had some effect at first. Pointy Ears gave out some medicine, which would relieve the pain, but later we found out that it was terazine, and once people get it, they can't live without it!
"Not long after, my wife's mind began to become abnormal.
"We tried moving to another place, but my wife couldn't live without the mist and terazine. If I didn't touch them for a long time, she would feel like she was having a seizure, and she would foam at the mouth."
This man who had been an agent for nine years wiped the corners of his eyes in front of Griffith: "After my wife left, I took Ruila to move here to stay away from those harmful things. But as long as I am still in Ga
In the south, that strange fog is everywhere.
"I thought about finding a chance to leave here and go back to Qiming County, but Ruila, she, she is only six years old and has already grown a tail..."
The man sniffed and raised his head: "Everyone here has their own reasons.
"The job of those half-elves is to fight, fighting orcs and monsters in the most dangerous places for a lifetime. Pointy Ears gives them orders from a distance, sending them to death like fighting grasshoppers, and those who survive return to the city and wait for a while.
Anyone who disobeys will be punished. I have seen wizards and gendarmes burn them in pieces in the square several times.
"You see, as long as your brain is still sound and your brain has not been damaged by pointy ears, you don't have a choice.
"Canaan will be destroyed, but we will not run away. This city is theirs and ours. It was built with our blood and tears."
…
The deeper he goes into Canaan, the less Griffith recognizes this place.
If the outline seen from a distance was still the gorgeous and mysterious city in his memory, it was completely different when he was in it.
The various decorations in the city are extremely exquisite, but they are shrouded in the mist of the netherworld.
Night fell again, and under the moonlight, a silent, illusory ripple with direction and intention came quietly from the distant sky along the moonlight shining slightly on the quiet city, just like waves about to rush to the beach.
wave.
This wave was dark and strange. Just as it disappeared silently into the darkness between the eaves, pillars and high walls, waves of vague screams that seemed to come from the ground suddenly broke out. This kind of wave suddenly erupted.
Screams of extreme pain and despair, even imitation, are enough to tear a person's nerves.
It's like looking down from high in the sky, or like some kind of breath coming from underground, as if it has been dormant here for a long time and is about to explode.
Griffith hurriedly quickened his pace.
Along the way, he rarely rested. He relied on magic potions to replenish his physical strength and kept moving to avoid Canaan's lock on the psychic ripples of extraordinary beings. He also encountered some agents and guerrillas. A large number of half-elves and humans.
Arm yourself as much as possible, watch the night vigilantly, and hide whenever there is danger.
According to them, whenever the mystery intensifies, strange words will write rules on the wall, and living creatures must abide by them or hide in special safe houses, otherwise they will incur fatal horrors.
Even among elves, there are nobles and civilians who are chosen by Gods, scholars, knights errant, explorers, and producers. The area where Griffith is currently located is exactly where Galadia took him to visit before.
Producers' colony.
The forests and parks that were once lush and lush, with leaves and petals so fresh that they seemed to run water when touched, have now turned yellow. The majestic buildings are shrouded in the misty drizzle, and the white stone paths are covered with a grayish color.
There are almost no neat places here. The underground magic energy pipes are in disrepair for a long time. The blue magic mist seeps out of the gaps, floats and accumulates on the ground, and curled human figures can be seen everywhere huddled in the darkness.
What exactly happened in Canaan cannot be explained clearly by the agents, guerrillas and residents. They only know that in less than a year, the kingdom of God on this earth is declining at a speed visible to the naked eye. Many beautiful, elegant
The elves are like plants that have lost the light of the sun and moon, become dry, and are extremely thirsty for the magic mist leaked from the pipeline.
People call them the withered ones.
Griffith looked at these languid-looking elves. They were sitting or lying, swaying here and there. Occasionally, when they heard the footsteps nearby, a few slowly raised their heads, revealing their haggard, pale faces that were extremely lacking in light.
However, closer to the Nebula Temple in the front, the aristocratic area of the Chosen, Scholars, and Knights Errant looks more energetic and tidy.
Griffith observed for a while and found that under the night, many gorgeous carriages were heading to the temple from all directions. Each carriage had a unique and exquisite coat of arms, and some were even pulled by unicorns with majestic heads.
The nobles of Canaan are rushing to Nebula Temple.
The carriage arrived in front of the temple gate, and the high-level elves hurriedly got out of the car. The withered men watched the noble clansmen from a distance and watched them enter the temple.
Griffith carefully concealed himself and observed carefully, hoping to find a way to sneak into the temple from here, or at least figure out what the elves were doing. At this moment, he suddenly noticed a line of sight, and a familiar face was staring at him.
Looking in the direction where he was hiding.
The elf's hair was as dark as the shadow before dawn, and he wore a small silver crown on it. He stopped forward, his expression unwavering, and he didn't know what was going on in his mind.
Tarkin Amon. At least the God's Hand of the Sequence 6 "Collector",
The Hand of God had just jumped off the carriage and cast his gaze towards the shadows in the hazy night, staring deeply for a while.
"What happened, radiant elf," asked Xienopus Hades and Salamandis who were traveling with him. "Did the gods give unknown instructions or a vague promise?"
"No, my friends," Tarkin replied, "but I sense a hint of danger."
"That guardian knight?" Hades asked, "I knew he would come, leave it to me."
"No, my friends, don't be impulsive," Tarkin waved his hand, "I need your help tonight. As for this unexpected visitor, the Withered Ones will entertain him."
While the three elves were whispering, several more acquaintances of Griffith arrived.
Melrose, Canaan's director of psychic research, and Ashura Brutus, a high-ranking executive wearing a pure white robe. They took Alyosha, who was wearing a formal dress and looked uneasy, to many high-profile places.
Surrounded by elves, they rushed into the temple.
Could they be performing some kind of ritual... Griffith withdrew his gaze and re-examined the nearby underground pipes. With these underground roads, coupled with the brute strength of the war knights, he was confident that he could carve out a way to sneak into the temple.
Just do it, go and see what these stupid roe deer are planning inside! Griffith jumped into a pipe and kicked the blocking iron fence open.
"Bang boring!"
There was a sound of metal tearing and crashing in the silence, and the solid iron grille fell like a bush in front of the knight. Griffith adjusted his equipment and walked inside.
However, he had just taken a few steps when some wriggling shadows appeared in the darkness.
Old, withered female elves suddenly swarmed out from all corners like cockroaches in the kitchen.
"Oh - how fresh, what a majestic breath of life!"
"I want!"
"No, he's mine!"
Griffith did not expect that a group of decadent, shriveled elves withered would actually swarm forward.
"Get out of the way."
Griffith had no time to argue, and he didn't want to do anything to civilians. However, before he finished speaking, he felt a sharp pain in his arm. His withered hand actually penetrated the shield, tore the chain armor on his upper arm, and gouged out a piece of it.
Big chunks of flesh.
"What!"
Griffith was shocked. Each of these dry elves, deformed, with hands as dry as tree branches, grabbed at him. Their nails actually shone with a dark golden light, and their random scratches contained characteristics that made the shield ineffective.
, direct trauma to armor and flesh.
Is this the real injury in the legend?
Griffith encountered such an attack for the first time, and his blood could not help but surge, and the strength of his whole body surged.
"Back off!"
With just one sweep, Griffith knocked seven or eight Withered Ones away. However, more figures suddenly rushed over from the darkness like sharks that had smelled blood.
"Look what we found!"
"A wild transcendent!"
Griffith was like kicking a cockroach nest. No matter how hard he beat to disperse it, more withers surrounded it from all directions, dancing and dancing, as if they had been drugged.
They were knocked down by the scabbards, swept by the shields, and fell to the ground one after another.
Griffith wanted to rush out, but his boots were stuck in the fallen crowd and he couldn't free his feet. There was even a withered man who seized the opportunity, grabbed his calf and shook him off.
"hiss--!"
A heart-breaking pain rushed straight to his brain, and a large piece of Griffith's greaves and boots were bitten off along with the flesh. The withered man was pressed under the crowd and chewed happily.
“Delicious!”
Soon enough, Griffith took out two grenades and threw them towards the ground. Through the fragments of the explosion, the impact and the bright light, the powerful war knight, the Hand of God, the flag captain of Beyeland, the Confederate
The great lord rushed out of the crowd and ran forward.
He ran in front, with densely packed withered beings chasing after him. The prey and the large group of hunters passed through the deep tunnel, and countless withered ones joined along the way. They originally blended into the bad environment like murals and vines, but now
At this moment, they are like locusts waking up in spring, swarms of them, densely packed and chasing after each other.
Griffith was chased and had no way to escape. He gritted his teeth and jumped into a river.
"Thump thump!"
There was a sound like dumplings falling into the water from behind, and the black withered ones also jumped into the river.