Accompanied by a sharp roar, a sharp arrow flew over the heads of the two wizards, slamming heavily into the bonfire of the ogre tribe, splashing a pitch-black dirt.
The dull sound of hooves came from all directions, and Gan Ning felt that the whole forest seemed to be trembling.
One centaur knight after another appeared in the night. They seemed to have not seen the two wizards who were close by, whistling silently by them, surrounding the small ogre camp with a rigorous but loose formation. The sound of bowstrings was endless, but no ogre was caught in an arrow.
This is expulsion, not war.
This enlightenment suddenly emerged from the young wizard's heart - perhaps this wandering ogre tribe violated the territory of the horse people and caused this disaster - at the same time, one sharp arrow after another fell from the sky, landing accurately around the ogre priest. The ogre warrior roared, waved huge wooden sticks, and bravely surrounded the priest.
However, compared with nearly a hundred horse knights, the ogre tribe with only more than a dozen warriors seems particularly weak.
...
...
"...But even though he is as firm as Watley, he becomes a top wizard and possesses huge magic power, he still cannot resist the twists that originate from the flesh and blood of the demon, and loses himself under the instinct of chasing power."
Professor Monteria seemed not to see the imminent conflict of clans. She raised her hands and disappeared into her wide sleeves again. Her voice was as always. Gu Jing Wubo: "With its comparison, how precious our young second-grade teaching assistant is, can you understand now?"
Gan Ning was speechless.
When Watley fought with the school wizard, he sat at a high altitude on the back of a huge crow and witnessed the whole process with Professor Monteria. Even the dark wizard's true body collapsed in the end, and the reason why he intervened.
Although he mocked Watley for being a "stupid black wizard who lacks self-control" in front of the professor, he knew clearly that Watley was already the best experimental subject prepared by the crows.
"It is because I can understand that I cannot understand your choice."
Gan Ning lowered his head and recalled the scene that seemed like an illusion just now, with a little dark look: "You know the terribleness of the twisted power, and you also know that our experiment has not been completely successful... A line of difference, a world of difference, why did you choose to take such a big risk to advance at this time?"
“Because we don’t have more time.”
Professor Monteria did not cover up, but told the young assistant the real answer directly: "After the Battle of Black Prison, the school focused more on returning to the island, and we had no time... and the experiment has advanced to this point. I must experience its transformation process personally in order to give you the most reliable guidance. From another perspective, Watre's results prove that our previous experiments have reached the extreme, and there is no way to make progress. Only by putting it to death or finding a glimmer of life."
Speaking of this, the professor suddenly chuckled: "Then fate played a little joke on us. While I was advancing, you accidentally found an experimental subject that could truly resist distortion... This is my misfortune, but your luck."
Gan Ning's head became lower and lower, as if a pair of invisible big hands pressed on his shoulders, making him breathless.
"Are you stressed?" The professor seemed to have insight into the mentality of the young wizard.
Gan Ning whimpered, as if saying 'yes', but it seemed like he was denying it.
The professor chuckled and gave an example: "It is right to feel stressed and breathless. By the last half hour of the hunting race, every hunter's body has reached its limit. Your magic is almost dry, your lungs are roaring, your heart is screaming, and your muscles are exhausted as if they are roasting in the fire. Your whole body is asking you to give up so that the pain will end as soon as possible. But the whistle that can really end everything is still half an hour away... So at this time, you should take a few deeper breaths, squeeze the last few drops of magic from your body, and turn the fingers of the Dharma Book, and don't tremble a little."
"You can never give up." The young wizard murmured, expressing his thoughts.
The professor denied, "No, never giving up is just the most basic, but it is far from enough to get the prey you want through hunting, just not giving up... You should never let anything interfere with your purest and independent will. Do you still remember what I often say to you?"
Gan Ning blurted out without thinking: "Only by looking at the purest darkness can we detect the subtle light of hope that is extremely subtle."
The professor raised his hand and patted his shoulder: "I have sunk into the darkness now. If I have the chance to see that light, you must seize it."
...
...
After Gan Ning left.
Professor Monteria was still standing there, motionless, silently watching the negotiations between the Horseman Tribe and the Ogre Tribe not far away, full of gunpowder aura.
for a long time.
His figure seemed to be about to melt into the moonlight, and the edges became blurred. On the wide cloak that was draped over him, a piece of wide black crow feathers popped out. A light black mist surged out from the bottom of the robe, rolling and rolling, like a spreading wildfire, or like a flood breaking through the embankment. With his figure as the center, one left and one right, sweeping towards the depths of the forest.
The moonlight passed through the treetops and fell down with difficulty, shining on Professor Monteria's face.
In the mist, the professor's eyes were still calm, but his pale face suddenly twisted, and sharp granulations emerged from his face uncontrollably, like flesh-colored insects, falling under his feet, impatiently blending into the shadows under his feet, smearing the shadows under his feet deeper.
The rich black is like the open arms of a giant, surrounding the horseman and ogres in the middle. If you look down from the sky, you can see a dark circle of ink suddenly in the silent forest. A little fire in the middle of the circle is stubbornly and stubbornly illuminating its last bit of light.
The sudden dim sky and the thick fog rising around made the old priest of the Ogre tribe feel deeply uneasy.
"Quiet!"
His old face looked around, his eyes were majestic and sincere, and his voice was filled with a captivating magic. In an instant, the ogre warrior and the centaur warrior were quieted down together.
Immediately, he paused the staff in his hand heavily, and the young head under his jaw and the old head on his jaw both sniffed an ancient shaman spell:
“circle-of-life!”
At the same time, he cut open his wrist without hesitation, and the purple blood gushed into the fire in front of him. The fire suddenly surged, and a series of light green halos rose from the fire and sprinkled around.