Chapter 686 685. The firewood of destruction has been prepared, now is the time to burn!

"Every time I see Twilight's creations, I can't help but sigh, how grand they are in pursuing the knowledge of the previous era that only existed in legends? Just picking up some scattered remains of the Golden Era is enough for Twilight

Create these amazing things.

This is a creative creature.

According to legend, it is an authority that only belongs to the Creator, a power that even ordinary gods cannot covet."

Splitting Claw Matron Potana was walking slowly in the dark underground tunnel, holding her thunder lizard bone staff that symbolized the chief's position. She was not alone. Next to her was the Gold from the Bloodscar clan.

Hunting Priest Lord Manson.

These two are the leaders.

The hundreds of gnoll priests following behind them were all spellcasters, and they carried large and small bags of various ritual items, as if they were planning to do great harm.

The tunnel they were walking in at this time was located at least sixty meters underground. This was definitely not a tunnel that ordinary races could dig. In fact, even the kobolds who were the best at digging couldn't accomplish this feat.

It's not because the kobolds can't dig out such a strange place, it's simply because the kobolds' large-scale excavation at this depth cannot be hidden from the detection of the earth priests in the position above.

But the Skaven can!

At this time, there were countless ratmen continuing to work on both sides of the tunnel where the jackals were traveling.

They don't just dig with their claws, which is too inefficient.

There are strange psychic individuals among them who can use some very simple earth spells to loosen the surrounding rocks and soil, and then the rat slaves swarm up to widen and deepen it.

The scene of tens of thousands of humanoid rats working together is astonishing, but these guys obviously have a strange and creepy discipline. They hardly make any unnecessary noise when working, but the rustling sound of digging

And those green eyes that lit up in the darkness around them made some cruel gnolls feel terrified in their hearts.

It was as if these strange big rats around them would swarm them at some point and bite them all to bits.

"I heard that the reason why these rat men can dig under the earth and avoid the detection of the earth priests is because the Creator of Dusk gave them the power of the sandworms in the gray desert?"

Potana seemed to be in a lively mood today, discussing this matter with the silent Lord Manson.

Facing the question she raised, the old but sinister blood-scarred priest shook his head and said:

"I was once invited to their 'laboratory'. I can only say that I can't understand the strange knowledge they have, but the place is really shocking. Although it is simple, it has the beauty of power, but that power is not

Belongs to the jackals.

Our people have been blessed with natural strength, so naturally we have to give up some wisdom."

"But that's a good thing, Lord Manson."

Potana shook her head and said:

"Wisdom is a good thing, but it only needs to be mastered by a few people. Once it spreads, fools will learn to think, and the conclusions drawn by fools are often dangerous, such as our King Gehrman.

He, who calls himself the Son of Bone-Gripping, only inherited the brute strength of the King of Bone-Gripping.

None of that astonishing wisdom was inherited, let alone Lord Philip’s desire for supremacy.

It is just stupidly imitating its ancestors, immersed in the black disaster that it has personally launched, but it cannot even understand what we want to get this time.

It is the perfect puppet cultivated by the Bloodscar clan, isn't it?"

"Shh, Chief Potana, you just need to understand this kind of thing in your heart, it can't be said out loud."

Lord Manson smiled.

The laughter of gnolls has never made anyone feel comfortable, let alone the Bloodscar clan, a group of fanatical guys dedicated to spreading the faith of the Lord of the Hunt.

It looked around at the rat people who had completed the foundation excavation and were digging diagonally toward the surface, and said:

"The front eight positions only require the ratmen to dig through tunnels and blast the ground with explosives to completely destroy them, but the real trouble is the positions at the back. I know you have obtained the help of Dusk, Potana, what are you doing today?"

His actions will directly determine the future of Black Flame Pass.

But we’re already here, aren’t you going to show us your trump card?”

"It's not that I don't want to say it, Mr. Manson. In fact, I don't know what surprises Dusk has left for us. I just know that it can be used by us."

Mistress Splitclaw shook her head and said:

"The only pity is that the Plague Clan, which is best at using the power of death, is on the wrong team. If those Plague Warlocks could also be here, maybe I would have ended this disgusting battle seven days ago.

But please be patient, Lord Manson.

I know that you are also looking forward to offering sacrifices for the birth of the Lord of Hunting. I swear to you that you can offer extremely generous sacrifices to our god at the Black Flame Pass.

All the lives that exist here will create our victory with a murderous attitude, and the Lord of the Hunt will feel happy about it.

But it’s still the same problem.”

Potana glanced at the Blood Scar Priest and whispered:

"Did you really not notice? Our God is a polluted God. Is it really okay to let Him be born like this?"

"Careful what you say! Mistress Splitclaw!"

Manson, who had always been indifferent, would now yell angrily:

"The question you just asked is already blasphemous!

Whether the Lord of Hunting is contaminated or not is not a question we should consider. Our faith has been restricted to the domain of the Lord of Hunting a long time ago. Only gods have the authority to choose believers, and believers are not qualified to choose gods.

.

We must allow the Lord of the Hunt to be born, Portana.

Although we also know that it will bring the gnoll civilization into a state of decay, the era of chaos is coming, and our people need spiritual protection.

No one except the Lord of the Hunt will accept the Gnolls' beliefs.

Unless you are willing to worship the more dangerous shadows of the warp.

Those gods of dusk

But look at those people who are hiding in the shadows of civilization and playing conspiracies. Their bodies are still intact, but their souls have rotted. Are you really willing to be one of them? Potana, you must know that they are like fallen gods.

is God!

He can also provide us with the strength and protection we need.

He was born from the faith of the gnolls! He will not and cannot harm the interests of the gnolls.

If you fall, just fall.

Anyway, all we need is a shelter and strength, nothing more.

The Bone-gnawing King has shaped the foundation of civilization for us, the four black disasters have tempered our strength, and the birth of the Hunting Lord is a sign that we jackals will eventually rule the world.

In the face of such a reward, all He needs is faith.

What a bargain.”

"Ha, well said, it's really a good deal."

Portana pulled her hood up.

She seemed to agree with this argument, but judging from the twinkle in her cloudy eyes, she clearly dismissed it.

The Splitclaw clan clearly has plans for the future of the world.

"It's right in front."

The jackals went straight and soon reached the end of the rat tunnel.

Mistress Splitting Claw took out a simple map and compared it. Their current location should be directly below the ninth level of the Black Flame Pass. The tunnel here has not turned, and its end is inserted into the underground structure of the Black Flame Pass defense line.

core location.

It is in the "non-existent area" that Samoyelia concluded.

Potana saw the ratmen digging in front of her. She shook her head, stepped forward and swung the bone staff to drive out a highly penetrating spiritual spiral, opening the last few meters of the tunnel in an instant.

What then caught the eyes of the Jackals was a lifeless and huge area, a "tomb" hidden in the core of the position.

Portana laughed.

She bent down and picked up a badly weathered metacarpal bone.

The owner of this metacarpal bone still held the weapon tightly before his death, so that even after the flesh and blood dried, he still could not take the broken sword away from his hand. It seemed that even a hundred years after his death, he was still unwilling to give in to failure.

"Look, the warriors who died at the hands of the Bone-Gripping King a hundred years ago, everyone thought that these brave warriors had been annihilated in the black disaster. They even foolishly built cenotaphs for these warriors on the ground.

I know that they wanted to commemorate that war and those tragic sacrifices, trying to seize some will, wisdom, and the like from it, but it turned out that they could not learn any lessons from the sacrifices.

A hundred years ago, Lord Philip defeated the Black Flame Pass in just one week. Tens of thousands of warriors of all races died in the massacre, but their death was not the end.

It was just a buried seed of darkness.

today

This seed is about to take root and sprout!

Stupid Heather Hoffman thought her enemy was the Splitclaw clan, but that was not the case! If he wanted to challenge the Splitclaw clan, the reckless and stubborn dwarf vampire had to first get past the remains of his 'predecessors'!

Does this wave count as cannibalism?
To be continued...