Chapter 464 Alas, Red Lion

Messermo returned safely, and everyone felt relieved and drank in peace.

In the vault, everyone was having fun until late at night, and then gradually became quiet and fell asleep.

But some people did not rest or have fun.

For example, Ampach was always concentrating on sorting out the precious books in the library; for example, Greg was always staying underground, listening to the sound of disco dancing upstairs, and feeling the dust from the ceiling fall on his face from time to time.

In this small hidden clinic and hiding place, the shaman lives with the pots who have turned into living pots.

Messemer tried various methods to cure them, but nothing worked. In the end, they could only let Father Golden Tree cover their eyes with blessings, giving them a false sense of peace and warmth.

But now, the priest here has left, and only Colin, who is responsible for helping the priest, still stays here. He recited the doctrine of the golden tree to the wizards, hoping to appease these poor wizards.

The flame knights guarding Grek were all asleep, and Grek himself was still standing in the middle of the bloody flesh and blood, looking at the shocking flesh and blood, helpless.

He had indeed been engaged in limb replacement for many years, but all he had done was limb replacement. He really had no idea how to change the person who had received the limb back.

The small pot was spinning around him, making him even more dizzy.

When Greg heard the sound of the elevator descending, he thought that Mersemer had come down to supervise the work. He was so frightened that he quickly found an excuse, saying that more time was needed.

But it was Wuming and Pachi who came down, and they were talking about something.

Patch said: "Look at the good things you did, why did you fill him with wine?"

"I thought I could make him drunk." Wuming said.

"As a result, when a person becomes sleepy and cannot suppress himself, something bad happens," Patch said.

"So he doesn't usually sleep. No wonder the dark circles are so heavy." Wuming said.

With that said, the two walked to Greg's side.

Greg scattered the small pots around him and asked the two of them:

"What are you talking about?"

"I didn't say anything. I added some Tolina water lily extract to the drink I gave Messemer earlier to get him drunk, but I didn't expect him to act like this when he fell asleep." Wuming shrugged.

"That's what you did." Greg was surprised.

Greg also saw the battle. Messer Morellana ran past anonymously one after another. He stood at the door. Although he couldn't see it clearly, he still saw it to some extent.

Greg was confused: "Why do you want to get him drunk?"

"Didn't you want to escape first at that time?" Wuming said. He glanced at Greg, "After all, you don't have the confidence to cure the wizard."

"How did you know?" Greg stuttered.

"You have saved many people with limbs, but you didn't save any of the nobles who had limbs." Wuming said, "You can only graft, but you can't cut."

Greg was a little discouraged:

"The difficulty is that limb replacement is not just a physical limb. Physical changes will also gradually affect the soul. If they have become accustomed to a life of limbo, it will still be painful for them to cut off the limb. And the soul Fusion with the body makes separation extremely difficult.”

Greg concluded: "It requires delicate and meticulous operations, as well as strong enough technical and intellectual support. Otherwise, even if a human form is carved out, the shaman will go crazy - the soul will be lost and the mind will be lost. Their will is not enough to last until the end of the treatment. ”

Wuming asked: "Is it cured and gone?"

Greg thought: "I'm afraid it will be difficult for me alone. If you add the birth secret of the Full Moon Queen and Se Lian's source stone technology, there may be hope."

"Just maybe?" Wuming said.

Greg lowered his head: "Because I always feel that something is missing. We lack spiritual protection for the wizards."

Wuming asked: "Is it okay to let Michaela protect their spirits?"

"Maybe." Greg said, "But none of these strong men are here."

Greg said: "During this period, I can collect the status of the wizards first, which can delay the time a little longer. You can stay here safely. But I can't guarantee how long it will last."

Greg looked at the wizards:

"But I need tools."

"Don't you have a sharp enough knife?" Wuming said, "I'll find one for you."

"There are knives." Greg said, "I mean anesthesia, and the bodies of witches with limbs attached also have feelings. To remove the limbs is equivalent to cutting off their hands and feet alive. I know the pain is too severe. The pain will also disrupt their consciousness and may directly kill them. "

Greg asked Wuming: "Do you still have Hiero eyes?"

"I didn't bring it." Wuming said.

Greg thought for a moment with a frown on his face, and his eyes lit up:

"By the way, water lily extract should also work. At least cutting off the witches' limbs while they sleep should reduce the pain."

"What a coincidence." Wuming scratched his head, "The only extract I had before was given to Messermo."

There was a bit of despair in Greg's dark eyes, and he looked at Patch helplessly.

Patch handed over a piece of spider silk.

"How is this used?" Greg picked up the spider silk with his crutch and looked at the mucus on it. "Does it have a paralyzing effect?"

"No." Patch smiled sinisterly, "You can amputate the leg using local methods."

"What does local law mean?" Greg hesitated. In his opinion, the native method is to chop directly with a knife, but this has been rejected by him.

"Tie their extra limbs with silk ropes and tighten them," Patch said. "Slowly, the limbs will become necrotic, and then they will be cut off and there will be no more pain."

"How can it still be like this?" Wuming studied at the side.

Greg shook his head: "This method is useless for wizards, their vitality is too strong."

"Then I have no choice. I can only provide a knife that is fast enough." Patch said, "Just cut it off, and it probably won't hurt."

"It hurts!" Greg retorted.

Patch said: "Then you go ask Messermo. The landlord's house may have the medicines you need. Or ask him where you can collect medicines such as Hierro's eyeballs."

Greg sighed: "I can only find a solution based on the things in the Shadow Land."

"The specialty of the Land of Shadows..." Wuming was reminded of his memories, and after thinking about it, his eyes lit up, "Yes, scorpion soup."

"What is that?" Greg was confused.

Wuming said: "The specialty of the Horned People is that they use scorpions to make soup, and the liver from the spider scorpion they use has a paralyzing effect."

Wuming touched his chest and took out a small piece of scorpion liver: "I left some samples in Barrett, Tower Town. Come and try it."

Greg picked up the scorpion's liver with his prosthetic hand, brought it up to look at, and licked it tentatively.

Then he froze.

After a while, Greg started to move, spitting repeatedly, and his tongue became swollen.

"It seems to work well." Wuming said, "Can it be used?"

"It works." Greg said, "Are there any more?"

"There are quite a few over there at Berrett." Wuming said, "You can just pick them up anytime you want."

Greg immediately experimented, anesthetizing a shaman with scorpion liver, cutting off a hand, then stopping the bleeding, bandaging, and carefully protecting the wound to allow it to grow back into new skin.

Wuming watched for a while without disturbing him:

"Come on, everyone's safety depends on you."

With such a heavy burden on his shoulders, a drop of sweat dropped from busy Greg's forehead, almost falling on the sorcerer's wound.

Greg quickly leaned back, unable to control his balance on the prosthetic foot. He fell backward and sat heavily on the ground.

Greg didn't have a strong body. If he sat like this, if he was unlucky, his spine might break into pieces.

However, Greg felt that the touch under his buttocks was quite soft, and there was no impact as expected.

Greg touched down and touched a hand of blood.

Looking down, he saw a bloody pool of blood on the floor, which gave him a buffer.

In the distance, a wizard raised his hands. Seeing that Greg was fine, he lowered his hands and the blood pool slowly dissipated.

Xiaohu came around again, helped Greg up, and asked Greg curiously:

"Can you really heal my sisters and the others?"

"I'll do my best..." Greg replied subconsciously. He looked at the little pot, "Actually, you are also them."

The little pots shook their heads in confusion: "We can't remember, but the sisters are very kind and we like them."

Xiaohu looked at Greg:

"But grandpa, if you can heal your sisters, why don't you have any hands or feet?"

Greg twitched the corners of his mouth, speechless.

The prosthetic limb was also the same scene in his kitchen when he was coerced by the war and frantically pursuing strength. At that time, the scene he saw in his eyes was completely different.

Greg looked at the contents and estimated that they could be his grandma's little pot, so he decided to trick the kind-hearted pot:

"Because grandpa can only chop, but not catch."

========

Everyone was free for the time being, although they could only move around in the vault. However, the atmosphere here is quite relaxed, and everyone can also work as a bastard and do some tasks that even evil soldiers can do.

Lance Sanks took a mop and cleaned the floor of the repository. He picked up the fragments of specimens that he knocked down during his madness last night. He handed them to the Horned Scholar and received another scolding.

"Busy? Very good." Wuming walked over with his hands behind his back and nodded gently, looking like a boss.

Lance Sanks was unhappy:

"Why is he the only one who doesn't have to do anything?"

"Why don't I have to do something? What I have to do is the most important thing." Wuming glared at Lance Sanks, "It's a matter of life and death for our team!"

"It's so powerful, how come I didn't know it?" Lance Sanks said, "What are you going to do?"

"Study with the prince—build a good relationship with Messermo." Wuming said, "If Greg fails, Messemer can still give me face and not kill you."

"Baby face." Lance Sanks curled his lips.

Wuming didn't take it seriously. With his hands behind his back, he walked around the vault leisurely, as if it was his own home.

Wuming saw that several horn scholars were facing the same direction, looking up at the towering and almost invisible beams of the vault, clasping their hands together in a spiral shape, closing their eyes and praying for something.

Wuming looked in the direction they were looking, but couldn't see anything. His sight was blocked by the specimens and beams along the way, so he didn't see anything strange.

"What are you doing?" Wuming was curious.

"They are giving thanks." Mersemer came over. This time he did not let his hair down. He put on a winged snake helmet and was fully armed, making him even more heroic.

"Thank you for the worship?" Wuming became even more curious.

Messermo passed by Wuming: "Follow me."

Messermo went all the way down, walked to a certain angle, and looked above his head: "You can see it from here."

Wuming looked in the direction and found a corpse sitting on the top of the beam.

But it's too high here, so it's still a bit unclear.

Messermo took Wuming all the way up, sat on the elevator, and stood on the beam.

This time I finally saw what the corpse looked like.

Judging from the costume, he is a flame knight.

"That's Sid." Messemer said, "We started the Holy War, and Shadow City was supposed to be just a castle. It was she and several others who advocated the need to preserve and collect species, which ultimately led to the creation of this depository."

"She knows how to save money." Wuming nodded appreciatively.

"It was a really difficult time," Messemer said. "At first there were no scholars here. Everyone didn't trust her and even scolded her for being hypocritical."

"Then how did she gain the trust of Jiaoren?" Wuming became interested.

"Persistence." Messemer said, "Sid is very strong, but just to protect herself. She repeatedly goes to various fields and villages to collect species and collect the knowledge of horned scholars."

"Is it just persistence?" Wuming was a little doubtful.

Time seems to have frozen in this land, and the horned man and the golden tree still maintain their blazing passion for revenge and killing.

On top of that, Sid is now a skeleton.

"Rodel's nobles shouldn't die that easily," Wuming said.

"Yes, in addition to perseverance, there is also martyrdom." Messemer stared at Sid's bones, "She exchanged her own life for the trust of the Horned Scholars."

"What an achievement." Wuming said.

He drew his sword and paid homage to the bones.

Messemer looked at Wuming's actions and smiled. He looked at the horn scholar in the library:

"Her sacrifice was not in vain. This can be said to be the most peaceful place in the Shadowlands. There is no more killing, only the study of knowledge."

"It seems that you only want to kill the lightless ones." Wuming said.

"After all, I myself..." Messermo stopped talking and gave Wuming a look that made him understand.

What did this topic remind Messermo of? He asked Wuming: "Do you still have the wine from yesterday?"

"Ah... there is one more thing, but maybe the date is not good, and maybe the energy is not that strong." Wuming's eyes wandered, "Don't humiliate yourself with your drinking capacity, or I will have to fight with you again."

"I'm not drinking," Messemer said. "I'm going to see someone."

"Who?"

"A friend." Messermo replied, "If you are willing to come, I can also introduce you to him."

No name, no matter, go together naturally.

Mersemer did not go down from the beam, but still walked along the beam, jumped onto a platform, and walked out of Shadow City.

There is a plank road and a platform on the wall outside the city. You can take the elevator all the way down to a small room.

Along with a church on the right side of the room, a huge headless statue of Malika stands there. In front of the room, you can see an open area. It seems that you have left the city. This is probably the back entrance of Shadow City.

Messermo walked to the statue and prayed for a moment, then turned around and took Wuming through the back door.

The ground outside is overgrown with weeds. Many soldiers' armors and weapons are scattered on the ground, and military flags with the Mersemer logo are planted everywhere. It seems that this place has experienced many wars, but now it has been submerged in weeds and covered up by time.

On the open flat land is the magnificent shadow tree. The giant tree that climbs to the sky occupies half of the sky, and the shadows twisting around the tree are clearly visible.

There seemed to be dewdrops flowing down from the shadow tree, landing not far ahead.

When Wuming was observing that direction, he saw a figure rushing towards him from the front.

After taking a closer look, he found that it was a knight, heavily armored, riding a huge wild boar, charging towards this side, holding a spear, menacing and murderous.

As the knight approaches, the ground trembles at the charge of the wild boar.

Wuming subconsciously raised his shield.

Messemer rushed forward, with flames like snakes in his hands, leaping into the air, and imprinted the fireball on the wild boar's head.

The two were in a stalemate for a moment, and then the fireball exploded. The momentum of the wild boar's charge was stalled, and Messemer flew out upside down and stood still with a backflip.

The knight on the wild boar laughed boldly:

"Your fire has become stronger again, and you shed your skin again?"

"Yesterday she shed another layer." Messermo smiled.

Hog Rider saw Wuming standing not far away:

"Who is this?"

"A cursed man," Mersemer simply replied, "but he doesn't care."

The Hog Rider then understood and nodded.

Then he charged towards Wuming, and when he was about to hit him, he stopped suddenly and stopped sideways in front of Wuming.

The Hog Knight raised his spear and saluted the nameless man: "Gaius."

"Nice to meet you, I am Wuming." Wuming's opponent stretched out his hand, but because the wild boar was tall, it was difficult to reach Gaius, the wild boar knight.

The Hog Rider switched the weapon in his hand, freed up one hand, bent over the horse and shook Wuming's hand.

When you get closer, you can see that the armor the Hog Rider wears is quite thick. The armor on his body is of a strange style and spreads out in layers. The helmet is also similar, made of rough iron sheets connected together. The visor is relatively rounded. The top of the head is raised up, like a seed.

While Wuming was observing the Hog Rider, Gaius was also observing Wuming.

Gaius said: "You don't seem to think I'm rude just because I didn't dismount. I'm really informal."

"Is it rude not to dismount?" Wuming said, "I'm sorry, I haven't ridden a horse since I was a child, so I don't know the relevant etiquette at all."

Gaius smiled: "Well, not all rules and etiquette are appropriate."

"Are you Messemer's friend?" Wuming looked at Gaius and was a little surprised when he saw the logo on the red cloth under the boar's iron armor, "Red Lion?"

Wuming clearly saw the symbol of the red lion on the wild boar, the lion emblem with the sword raised.

"It's just an old story." Gaius laughed, "Now he's just a veteran lingering here, waiting for death to come."

"Waiting to die? I see you don't have any physical injuries." Wuming looked at Gaius and found that he was hidden in the hollow of the wild boar armor, buried very deep, "Hey, your legs are gone? But that's nothing. Let’s get fatally injured.”

"It's not an injury, it's just that my life span is about to end." Gaius said, "After all, I am not a citizen of the golden tree, but a son of platinum."

"It turns out to be the son of Platinum." Wuming suddenly realized.

Gaius observed the nameless expression:

"You don't have any reaction when you see the Platinum Son. What kind of curse are you carrying?"

"Immortal." Wuming said.

Gaius looked at Messemer walking over:

"Did you find a golden citizen to make this guy angry with me?"

Messemer smiled and threw a bottle to Gaius.

Gaius took it and saw a bottle:

"What's this?"

"This guy made the wine." Messermo said, "It tastes good. Please try it."

"So you are a winemaker?" Gaius drank half the bottle in one gulp and felt his body burning up, as if he had drank Dettol.

"A warrior," Messermer replied.

"Oh?" Gaius was feeling hot all over and looked at Wuming's thin body and sword and shield, "Let's try it."

Before Wuming could say anything, Gaius had already slapped the boar on the butt and ran away, then turned around and rushed towards Wuming.

"Red Lion." Messermo shook his head.

"Oh, Red Lion." Wuming also shook his head.

"Can you block it?" Mersemer said, "I can't bear Gaius's charge anyway."

"Actually, I'm quite confident in dealing with the Tin Pig."

Faced with Messermo's doubts, Wuming just raised the moderately sized but not thick shield.

Flames covered the shield, and the shield quickly curled and blackened, becoming smaller but thicker.

Wuming took out a piece of pyroxene and rubbed it on the shield. A dazzling magical light adhered to the shield.

After doing this, the wild boar's tusks were already close to his eyes, pushing the nameless man and shield directly against the wall.

Dang Dang Dang Dang Dang.

The moment the thick fangs touched the shield, Wuming backed away, but then he was hit by the wild boar again, unable to escape.

In an instant, the wild boar seemed to hit Wuming a dozen times.

The huge wild boar exerted its arrogant power and pressed Wuming against the wall. Each blow was powerful and heavy, leaving a dull impact.

When the wild boar finally got tired, it slowly retreated. Wuming pulled himself down from the wall, swept the ashes off his body with his shield, and said to Gaius:

"Have you finished trying it?"

Gaius was surprised: "Tree guard?"

Gaius could see clearly on the wild boar that all the wild boar's attacks were blocked by Wuming, and no trace of them was missed. Wuming was actually not injured at all.

This reminded him of the tactics used by the guards of the Royal City's Rodel Tree, who used their huge shields to make their opponents despair.

Wuming chuckled: "The shield guarded by the big tree is not as powerful as mine."