Orc Tyrant

Chapter 505: Etching (4)

The cultists continued to sway and sing, their eyes widened with fear and ecstasy, and at the same time Lilin began to circle them again.

A believer looked at each other eagerly, eager for the king of beasts to bestow him the glory of becoming the next person, and couldn't wait to merge his blood into the blood of countless other believers who sacrificed to the huge blood pool.

Every time Lilin passed his back and the cold blade of the arc-shaped dagger cut through his skin, he chanted the spell even louder.

In order to achieve the great ambition, they have spilled blood on many people, but now it is time for him to donate blood for his career.

His thoughts were dizzy with disbelief. So many brothers could not see the true origin. They were still blindly trapped in the plan of the elders. They still believed that the war must have a purpose-to shed blood to sacrifice to the blood god. Not enough to be an end.

Idiots!

Lilin stood still again, yanked another believer's head back and cut his throat indifferently, and then randomly pushed his body to fall into the circle with blood.

He began to quicken his pace, and was driven into a trance state by the irritating smell of spells and blood. The ground around the courtyard gathered hot energy, which squeezed the stone carvings and burst the statues into numerous cracks.

In the end, Lilin stood behind him.

When his head was pulled back and his neck was exposed under the sacrificial dagger, his soul felt immense joy.

"Lilin!"

A roar broke the harsh chant and made the energy field flicker.

"Please, oh, please cut me open,"

The believer prayed in his mind.

"please!"

But Lilin stopped and turned to see who dared to interrupt the ceremony.

"Caitlin!"

He roared and stared at the tall woman.

"Ok has broken through the main city. They are on their way. Your soldiers hardly won us any time."

Caitlin said loudly, her voice full of disgust.

She is gradually disgusting this ugly mutant, especially when he is performing such an evil ritual, in a sense, just standing here, she feels full of sin.

The cultist felt the opponent loose his head and drew the dagger away, abandoning him on the edge of glory, and he cried in frustration.

Lilin left the circle and walked towards each other, instructing the cultists to continue singing while he was leaving.

"I know what you mentioned, Queen of Wanderers."

Lilin suppressed the anger in his heart, raised his arms and invited the other party out of the courtyard.

"Everything is going according to plan. Once I finish the ceremony, you will get everything you want."

Caitlin looked at Cindri, doubting his words.

"I don't believe you, wizard."

She sneered.

"Give me the Heart of the Forge, the transaction ends here."

"Our transaction does not have this-at least until the end of the ceremony, when Guk arrives, I will serve as a generous host to satisfy their thirst for a **** feast."

Lilin squeezed a smile from his face, but it was indeed full of dangerous smiles.

"But no matter what the price, Katlin, you must prevent them from interrupting the ceremony. This is a fragile procedure. I can't afford it. The second time... the cost of being interrupted."

Caitlin nodded uncertainly, then turned and walked away, letting Lilin do what he was supposed to do.

"and also--"

Suddenly, Lilin shouted behind her:

"Perhaps I should suggest that you take out everything to deal with the **** green skin, I say everything, especially at this critical moment."

"Less guide me how to deal with Ok, wizard!"

Caitlin stopped abruptly, turned her head and hit back.

"Sorry."

Lilin spread his hands and said smoothly:

"I just think you will be happy to finally find a chance to fight Ouke."

Caitlin did not answer, but ran into the gloomy interior of the temple at an accelerated speed, while Lilin turned to the cultists in the courtyard.

"Now, where are we?"

Lilin thought about it, and the melody of the curse permeated his soul again.

"Ah, yes... power requires sacrifice."

When Lilin grabbed his head again and brought the cold spirit dagger close to his throat, the formerly abandoned cultists gasped in ecstasy.

Finally, after a brief burst of pain, he lay in a pool of blood under his feet, and he could feel that life was constantly pouring out, bringing his soul into the arms of the blood god.

The promise will be kept, and the evil omen will be fulfilled.

It looks up from the emptiness, as if at the bottom of a well, because the world has imprisoned it with the gravitational force formed by fate to ensure that it can finally fulfill its role.

It looks to the limit of the perceivable real world. On the boundary of perception, something is moving, like a flying insect touching a spider web, ripples in its thinking.

It spoke, not with words, but with strength.

It is like the neighing of a snake, like the sound of sand pouring through the neck of an hourglass, but without beginning and end, as if it has been here and will always be here.

The tumbling waves of blood envelop it and devote one's energy without motive or demand. The vast ocean is such a country full of contradictions. Its surging and infinite environment can create everything, no matter good or evil.

The ferocious predators were attracted by this power and swam around, just like a shark that had just tasted blood, impatient, but frightened by a stronger force.

Go ahead.

It whispered, opened its cloak, and contained everything in it.

"General, tell me, how is the situation?"

"Ok regrouped and launched another offensive. Your lord, a large number of soldiers died under gunfire while trying to enter the defensive position. We tried our best to persist..."

The evil orc's voice faded away, and he was obviously unwilling to continue speaking.

The faces of the ministers in the palace became more and more ugly, most of them had already run away, and those who remained were able to see reality clearly.

Once this place is over, it doesn't matter where you go. The survival of the orc clan is in this battle. If you lose, everything will stop. It's just that the time of destruction is different.

"How long can it last?"

The secretary of state overheard the conversation and joined in.

"One hour is the most."

The evil orc general took a deep breath and stabilized his voice.

"Some soldiers gave up their positions, including the elite black sword fighters."

"Then they are cowards."

The ministers scolded one after another, but the minister of state affairs recalled the scene before him a few days ago.

Such a terrifying artillery fire, even the iron-strike people can't stand it, the elite has its limits, they are also thinking creatures, it is impossible to be afraid of it at all.

"Worse than that, adults."

The general said frankly.

"The retreat is an insult to the glory of the soldiers, but it is not enough to veto it. These soldiers did not run away. They all aimed their guns at themselves and committed suicide in despair."

The ministers all took a breath, then glanced at each other, not knowing what to say.

"Where is your majesty?"

"Still in the courtyard, he seems to be preparing some ceremony, asking no one to disturb."

"Does he know these things?"

The general shook his head.

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