"Is he harming himself?"
Painter looked at the silver spikes all over the floor and couldn't help but wonder if the other party was some kind of pervert with a penchant for twisting. Whether it was driving a nail in or pulling it out like this, it was not something a sane person would do.
The dwarf finally understood why Quillen had to apply Wu Ye Dong beforehand. This only reduces the pain and does not interfere with the ongoing movements due to severe pain. However, he did not have to endure this torture, and it seemed that Quillen was not willing to do so.
Why would a leader of the Venetian mafia sensibly kill himself?
Quillen was digging out the last nail near his shoulder. The messenger suddenly said: "The symbol of Berti, the goddess of luck, is the wheel."
"What?" The dwarf didn't know the purpose of bringing up this topic. Can it be said that this criminal gang leader is a devout believer in the goddess of luck, so he has a reasonable excuse to kill?
The messenger did not answer.
Golden-bearded Kaixi was also observing carefully. "He seems to be performing a weird ritual. Note that his eyes have turned black."
"Professional magic?"
"I've never heard of that," Jet interjected.
"You are ignorant," the dwarf replied.
"Quiet." Kaixi ordered, "Do you want to lure the Holy Knights up from the foot of the mountain?"
After the short slope there was no more sound. More and more snowflakes are falling and the wind is getting stronger. Only the silver glow of the bright moon remained in the darkness, reflecting on the man kneeling here in the center of the clearing. Painter found his body beginning to swell.
That was a change that couldn't be ignored even halfway across the camp. Quillen's body shape changed from strong to exaggerated, with dense long gray hair sprouting from his back; his bones stretched and stretched, and his muscles grew abnormally. The wheel mark on his chest was shredded by hair. He covered his face and hammered his chest with his huge claws. When he put down his hands and stood up, a pair of lifeless and gloomy wolf eyes were revealed.
Werewolf.
No need for any explanation or speculation, the dwarf saw the inhuman erect ears, sharp claws, and fur that was still growing all over his body. He heard the sound of Jet inhaling, and the tremor made him subconsciously tighten the handle of the hammer.
A werewolf in Binyaio is as rare as a sunny day in Whinney Watts. They go berserk under the moon, either causing massacres or causing their own kind. Anyone wounded by the Claw becomes a disciple of the Broken Moon, a transformation straight into the Fire, where the price of power is periodic madness.
"He used silver nails to suppress his wolf transformation." Golden Beard suddenly realized, "Otherwise, he would have already shown the characteristics of a werewolf when the Broken Moon was approaching."
"Quilen is a werewolf." After accepting the fact, this is not something unbelievable. After all, although werewolves are rare, they are not completely extinct like cave dwellers. Although there are many human races in Knox, there are also many non-human races. I am one, and there is York... Painter couldn't help but feel a little lucky: "Fortunately, York and the others didn't find the Wheel Gang."
The werewolf's level of mystery would increase to a terrifying level when the moon breaks. Originally, Quillen was only at the level of a newly transferred class, but now Painter wasn't even sure he could defeat him. Fortunately for York, Uriel would definitely be torn apart when facing this kind of enemy.
Under the moonlight, the werewolf looked up to the sky and howled.
Mysterious ripples spread with the sound, the mountains and forests rustle, and snowflakes dance. A strange and strange magic power rose and surged, and Painter felt a heavy pressure inexplicably. It was like a hand pressing on his chest, gradually trying to hold his heart. He felt short of breath. Mystery seems to be shrouding this area, and the Broken Moon seems to be getting closer.
"What is he doing?" Jeter asked in fear. Because the man had lowered his head and continued to destroy the internal organs of the beast on the ground with his knife. The adventurer noticed that the newly ignited flames around them shrank like a lack of oxygen, and were gradually turning into pale silver.
The Broken Moon seems to be getting closer.
Painter could hear his companions' breathing losing its slow, suppressed rhythm. Even Goldenbeard Kaixi was no exception. He recalled the other party's calm and composed performance in front of the messenger. I thought you were not afraid of anything.
"What can he do on a full moon night?" said the deputy leader. "The werewolf will definitely not be able to escape madness. But I think he prepared the sacrifices before the ceremony." A werewolf who loses his mind will go on a rampage on a full moon night. Killing, but not gluttony. One explanation is that they were instinctively offering dead bodies to the moon. Broken Moon requires no living sacrifices.
So does the ritual start after the living creature is killed? Painter didn't see much difference between this and human sacrifice.
"Does he want to end the sacrifice as soon as possible?"
"Most likely."
"Then let's just wait for him to turn back to human form. There's no reason to have to deal with a crazy wolf——" The big-nosed dwarf was mid-sentence when he suddenly caught a glimpse of the snow where the messenger was hiding and began to quietly fall snowflakes, almost to the point of falling. The footprints were covered. Without thinking, he quickly turned his head and stared at the camp.
The man was tearing apart a bloody mass when suddenly he was suddenly grabbed by the back of his neck, causing him to lie back. He roared furiously and struck back with his elbow. He bent his knees and tried to turn over. At the same time, he squeezed the short knife and stabbed it at the back of the neck.
But then he received a blow to the stomach. The dwarf saw how cruel this blow was when he saw Quillen's body bowed, his dagger flew out of his hand, and his roar suddenly stopped. The werewolf's physique was strong enough to withstand slashes and blows from swords, but now he was feebly trying to curl up, with blood foam constantly overflowing from his mouth.
Perhaps this blow broke his ribs, and his unprotected internal organs suffered severe damage.
On a full moon night, a werewolf's strength, agility, and constitution will be greatly increased, and his recovery and durability are no exception. However, the messenger did not give him a chance to recover his internal organs. The half-wolf, half-human mysterious creature roared and was about to extend its claws when its bloody arm folded in a circle, and its tough bones made a crisp sound.
The werewolf howled in pain.
The screams woke up the dazed adventurer. Golden Beard cursed, jumped over the short slope, and ran straight into the camp. At this time, Quillen struggled with all his strength, and his fists the size of grapefruits banged on the ground, but still made no progress; his legs kicked and kicked randomly, but he couldn't get any strength. The price of losing the target was that his chin immediately raised, and the twisted arc was frightening to see.
The messenger did not appear, and the dwarf could only see the gang leader rolling on the ground. The claws he swung out with all his strength were unorganized, and would often be pulled suddenly halfway, causing his whole body to stumble and roll along with the force. Snowflakes fluttered and fell. At this time, the tilt of his head or the sound of his bones meant that the messenger's fist hit the target unceremoniously.
By the time Painter woke up from a dream and ran panting to the center of the camp with Golden Beard, the werewolf was already unable to fight back after being beaten up by the messenger. He lay bruised and bruised on his back, the white snow stained pink with blood.
"He's dying," Cathy reminded.
"Not yet." The young man replied. His body was revealed bit by bit in the air, and his fingers were stained with blood. Sauron's ring lit up for a moment, and the blood stains turned into cracked ice chips and fell off. Although Quillen's mystery was enhanced under the broken moon, the messenger could still press him to the ground and rub him without using magic.
It was obvious, the dwarf thought, that the messenger was more monster than werewolf. Even the Holy Knight Commander of the Glorious Council was defeated by him, and there were differences in strength and weakness in the Sky Realm. The messengers of the Sky Tower are not even afraid of the cardinals of the Parliament, they have the qualifications to negotiate. But Surte is on top, is he really sure that the Holy Knights will accept such coercion?
"The Broken Moon is the source of the werewolf's power. And he is using the same kind of organs to sacrifice to the Broken Moon, which will make him more intelligent."
The dwarf was startled, "Innards of the same kind?"
"More intelligent?" Kaixi's focus was different.
"The magic power of werewolves comes from the moon, and they slaughter living people tonight to obtain sacrifices. There is no better sacrifice than the believer who is filled with the magic power of the moon. The feedback the sacrificer receives can even keep him sane tonight. "
The young man picked up the short knife on the ground with his toes and threw it at the werewolf without any warning. The dying monster quickly turned over to avoid the blow. But it was only a matter of time. The messenger slid backwards and the black boots stepped on its furry chest. A series of sounds of broken bones sounded, making Painter tremble all over.
It wasn't that he was afraid, but the camp was filled with mysteries connected to werewolves. The magic here seemed to be filled with pain, and he could feel the same pain just by looking at it.
For Quillen, there is no more desperate enemy than the strange creature before him. His recovery power is astonishing. He can heal serious injuries in just one breath, but he cannot stop the force like a meteorite falling to the ground. He believed that no matter how much Berti cared for him, he probably wouldn't be able to protect the dead.
Jett wowed. "It seems like he still has strength, which is incredible."
This is because the messenger did not want to kill him. Painter had no doubt of this, but why did the messenger want to spare his life?
But compared to the messenger, Golden Beard Kaixi's attitude was more confusing. "Deputy Captain, is this guy still useful?"
"It depends on whether he can cooperate." Kaixi twirled his beard. Then he quickly added: "And your mood." This was addressed to the messenger.
The young man said nothing.
"You...want to know...what?" Quillen said intermittently. During the process, his eyes were changing from black to their original golden color, and the wounds on his body began to scab quickly. "Spare my life and I will tell you everything you know."
Apart from York's light elemental being, this was the first time Painter had seen a mysterious creature with such powerful resilience. I think he saves a lot of money every year on healing potions and holy water. The dwarf thought with envy.
"Where are your accomplices?" asked the messenger.
"I will kill them and sacrifice them to Bai Yue."
The messenger stared at him carefully: "Before killing them, you turned them into werewolves."
"Yes."
"You are not trying to gain more power, but because the power of the Black Moon Tide is too strong, and you need to get rid of the madness."
"That's right." In order to survive, this monster was more obedient than a tame hunting dog. "This year's Broken Moon is different from the past. I'm afraid that I will get lost in madness and never regain my sanity. I sacrificed my entire gang to barely have enough."
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