Mystery Makes Me Strong

Remember [New] for a second,! At this moment, a half-mountain palace.

"Vail, I still underestimate the clergy. They are not stronger than my mice, but they have too many skill combinations. Seemingly small skills, they will explode with a hundred times the power." Big mouse Said to his sister.

"Brother, what do you need me to do?" Weil was a little nervous.

Unlike at first, she was dedicated to helping her brother and trying to escape from the dark underground rat farm.

"I need a more powerful rat, preferably a smart rat man." The big rat said coldly.

"Ratman, isn't it?" Ware thought of the terrifying place.

"Yes, I want to let the mice kill each other more intensely to choose the most powerful one." The big mouse nodded.

Weil was slightly relieved, God knows what she just thought of.

Anyway, that's something that can't be said.

"Will this work?" she couldn't help asking.

"Well, it doesn't seem feasible to do this, I understand, let people, let people be their filters, only the most intelligent mice can survive from people's hands, just like ordinary mice, they will be caught by simple traps. If you die, the rest will not easily fall into traps or eat rat poison." The big mouse quickly thought of a better solution.

Weil sighed slightly and hugged the puppy.

It was her only spiritual solace.

"I'm leaving, by the way, send me another batch of fertile red-eyed female mice."

three months later.

The big mouse looked at the new batch of mice with satisfaction.

They are wiser.

No matter how cunning the enemy is, don't let them be easily fooled.

And they have higher resistance to the clergy's skill system and more ways to deal with it.

They begin to master a power called "fel energy".

This is after a group of mice were killed hundreds of times by a certain Fel Priest, a newly-born mutated red-eyed mouse finally had the same power.

The aura of the priest faded in the eyes of the big mouse and degenerated into a "professional".

The big mouse was overjoyed.

Of course he didn't know that this was actually the fel pollution in Warcraft.

Fel energy will automatically expand and automatically spread to those who come into contact.

As long as the contacts themselves fall, they will gradually master this power.

Fel energy is only the first energy that the rats begin to master.

Then death, shadows, all kinds of negative energies, began to be mastered by them.

And they gradually imitated the professionals and established various mouse professions.

Shadow Rat, Assassination Rat, Explosive Rat, Plague Rat, Poison Rat…

Everything you need.

Professionals are starting to panic.

Because they found that in the past, a hundred professionals could swept hundreds of thousands of rats, but now a hundred can only defeat a few thousand.

But mice can live.

It can be doubled in just a few months.

They started to get tired of running.

...

The first batch of professionals returned to the Great Emperor's team and abandoned the mines they guarded.

"Your Majesty, the mice have become stronger again." The leader of the professionals, a duke said.

"Oh, I see." Lancelot nodded.

"We need stronger power. It's best if the divine envoy will open up higher powers to us." The Duke said resolutely.

"God has given us everything, just like giving ordinary people the greatest wisdom, making it possible for them to solve all their problems by themselves." Lancelot shook his head.

The Duke clearly did not believe it.

But now must rely on the emperor.

The Emperor's skill tree is stronger.

Everyone knows this.

Because everyone didn't know how to play earlier, I made a lot of messy skills.

Anyone who has played the game knows that the same attributes, the same skill points, take Diablo as an example, if you click it, you can completely clear hell.

Blind point, point is not good, you feel troublesome on normal difficulty.

Lancelot has the intuition of a knight on the battlefield, and knows that he must let others make a test first, and then make a clear investigation.

So he is the last to order and the best.

His skill system is the integration of offense and defense, plus mobility, all-round.

If the almighty is not good, it is a waste, and if it is good, it is the king.

You can be very powerful, but if you meet someone who restrains you, just wait to die.

"Then, Your Majesty, what should we do?"

"Go to the battlefield and get back the feeling of beheading the Tauren back then."

are deceiving us again.

The Duke thought self-righteously.

he left.

That night, he bribed the emperor's **** with a lot of money.

"What are your plans, Your Majesty?"

"fighting."

"You dare lie to me?" the Duke said angrily.

"No, no, Lord Duke, what the emperor usually talks about the most is to fight, fight desperately, fight desperately, even if the last kintale is consumed, fight!" The **** said in fear.

He was afraid of being turned into a sheep by the Duke and then killed.

That's still good, for fear of being sold to barbarians.

fight, what does this mean?

Yes, the emperor must have tricked others into fighting.

After years of aristocratic life, the duke has long learned the hypocrisy and cunning of the aristocracy.

He is no longer the ordinary poker player he used to be.

In fact, his skills are gradually becoming more cunning.

What "speaking skills", "deception", "deception", "conspiracy"... all kinds of skills are developed on this.

Only in terms of combat, he only ordered the skills of escape and life-saving.

In fact, many professionals do it secretly.

His Majesty the Emperor can't check everyone's skill panel after all.

This caused the fight to be okay at first, but once the rats got stronger, they started to find their own problems:

Not deep enough.

The Duke realizes that they are going to fail in the face of the mighty rats!

This is the same as in the game, before the team battle, feeling that one's own skills can't keep up.

Early the next morning, His Majesty the Emperor set off.

The duke made an excuse to pretend to be sick and let his summon, a wild boar, follow.

Other professionals have also used the same excuse.

They only let summons go into battle.

Lancelot felt a pang of sadness.

"It's only been a few years? The dead King Rotes, and many old nobles, have you all forgotten?" He couldn't help roaring at these professionals.

"How did they fail? Just because they didn't dare to risk everything, and because they wanted to annihilate us at a small price, they were killed and collapsed by us!"

"You just forgot!"

"Look at you, all the dukes, the marquis, the wealth of the family, the love. There are countless people, and each individual can form a coalition!"

"Which one of you is not my confidant? Which one has not been on the battlefield with me?"

"But look at it now, are you still worthy of the battle you once fought?"

"Are you still fighters? You seem to have forgotten that you are just a low-level soldier who has become a card player. That is the power given to you by the gods!"

poker player?

The dukes, marquis, and earls were stunned when they heard this unfamiliar and familiar word.

Yes, they are still poker players, not some noble clergy!