"Sir, if you are willing to wait, we can submit more information!" The middle-aged man took out some carefully kept notebooks, "We have comrades in all the major fortresses, including handymen, cooks, lower-level soldiers, and Some have already become team leaders!”
Griffith took the note and flipped through it quickly. After Canaan's route to the outside world was blocked, agents from the Confederacy and Qiming County began to prepare backup intelligence collections and wait for the time to send them out.
The intelligence they prepared included but was not limited to maps, army deployments, Extraordinary abilities and characteristics, and fortress fortifications. However, very little information is known about Canaan's high-level sealed artifacts and powerful men.
"I don't have time and must move immediately." Griffith put away his notebook. "Before the operation begins, we will send a stronger advance team in to join you."
"That's great! We have a guerrilla group composed of half-elves and humans, with weapons!"
These people will come in handy... Griffith nodded, stood up and prepared to leave. Intelligence work has its limits. To find out Canaan's true strength and trump card, we can only rely on Griffith's personal testing, or offensive reconnaissance before the war begins.
Before leaving, he remembered one more thing:
"The battle with Canaan is very dangerous. Have you thought clearly?"
The middle-aged man was stunned for a moment, "Are you asking why we did this?"
He looked at the little girl playing games outside the door and moved his lips:
"Ruila is six years old this year. In the early years, we lived closer to the city, where the food was fresher and the security was better. I even considered giving up this job and settling down honestly. After all, being Being caught by the gendarmerie is no joke.
"I work on Pointy-Ear's farms and docks like everyone else."
Griffith said nothing. He saw the man's eyes looking far away:
"Two years ago, my wife contracted a strange disease. Scale-like moss appeared on the skin. Her fingers and toes were deformed, like bird claws. She couldn't sleep all night. Many people living in the sewers suffered from this. In this way, some people say that it will be better to smell the mist leaking from the cracks.
"We did it, and it had some effect at first. Pointy Ears gave out some medicine, which would relieve the pain, but later we found out that it was terazine, and once people get it, they can't live without it!
“Not long after, my wife’s mind began to become abnormal.
"We tried moving to another place, but my wife can't live without the fog and terazine. If she doesn't touch them for a long time, she will feel like she's going crazy, foaming at the mouth."
This man who had been an agent for nine years wiped the corners of his eyes in front of Griffith: "After my wife left, I took Ruila to move here to stay away from those harmful things. But as long as I am still in Ga South, that strange fog is everywhere.
"I thought about finding a chance to leave here and go back to Qiming County, but Ruila, she, she is only six years old and has already grown a tail..."
The man sniffed and raised his head: "Everyone here has their own reasons.
"The job of those half-elves is to fight, to fight orcs and monsters in the most dangerous places for a lifetime. Pointy Ears gives them orders from a distance, sending them to death like fighting grasshoppers, and those who survive return to the city and wait for a while. Anyone who disobeys will be punished. I have seen wizards and gendarmes burn them in pieces in the square several times.
"You see, as long as your brain is still sound and your brain has not been damaged by pointy ears, you don't have a choice.
"Canaan is going to be destroyed, but we will not run away. This city is theirs and ours, built with our blood and tears."
…
The deeper they go into Canaan, the less Griffith recognizes it.
If the outline seen from a distance was still the gorgeous mysterious city in his memory, it was completely different when he was in it.
The various decorations in the city are extremely exquisite, but they are shrouded in the mist of the netherworld.
Night fell again, and under the moonlight, a silent, illusory ripple with direction and intention came quietly from the distant sky along the moonlight flickering slightly on the quiet city, just like waves about to rush to the beach. wave.
This wave is sinister and treacherous. Just as it disappeared silently into the darkness between the eaves, pillars and high walls, waves of vague screams that seemed to come from the ground suddenly erupted. This scream of extreme pain and despair, even imitated, is enough to tear at one's nerves.
It's like looking down from a high altitude, and like some kind of breath coming from the ground. It seems that it has been dormant here for a long time and is about to explode.
Griffith hurriedly quickened his pace.
Along the way, he rarely rested, relying solely on magic potions to replenish his physical strength. He kept moving to avoid Canaan's lock on the supernatural's psychic ripples. He met some more agents and guerrillas. A large number of half-elves and humans armed themselves as much as possible, watched the night vigilantly, and hid whenever there was danger.
According to them, whenever the mystery intensifies, strange words will write rules on the wall, and living creatures must abide by them or hide in special safe houses, otherwise they will incur fatal horrors.
Even among elves, there are nobles and commoners who are chosen by gods, scholars, knights errant, explorers, and producers. The area where Griffith is currently located is the settlement area of explorers and producers that Galadia took him to visit before.
The forests and parks that were once lush and green, with leaves and petals so fresh that they seemed to run water when touched, have now turned yellow. The majestic buildings are shrouded in the misty drizzle, and the white stone paths are covered with a grayish color.
There is little tidiness here. The underground magic energy pipes are in disrepair for a long time, and the blue magic mist seeps out of the gaps, floats and accumulates on the ground, and curled human figures can be seen everywhere huddled in the darkness.
What exactly happened in Canaan is unclear to the agents, guerrillas and residents. They only know that in less than a year, the kingdom of God on this earth is declining at a speed visible to the naked eye. Many beautiful and elegant elves are like plants that have lost the light of the sun and moon, and have become dry. The magic mist leaking from the pipes is extremely thirsty.
People call them the withered ones.
Griffith looked at these elves with sluggish expressions. They were sitting or lying, swaying here and there, hearing footsteps nearby. Occasionally, a few would slowly raise their heads, revealing their haggard, pale faces that were extremely lacking in light.
However, closer to the Nebula Temple ahead, the aristocratic area of the Chosen, Scholars, and Knights Errant looked more energetic and tidy.
Griffith observed for a while and found that under the night, many gorgeous carriages were heading to the temple from all directions. Each vehicle has a unique and exquisite coat of arms, and some are even pulled by unicorns with majestic heads.
The nobles of Canaan are rushing to the Nebula Temple.
The carriage arrived in front of the temple gate, and the high-level elves hurriedly got out of the car. The withered men watched the noble tribesmen from a distance and watched them enter the temple.
Griffith carefully concealed himself and observed carefully, hoping to find a way to sneak into the temple from here, or at least figure out what the elves were doing. At this moment, he suddenly noticed a trace of sight, and a familiar face was staring in the direction where he was hiding.
The elf's hair was as dark as the shadows before dawn, and crowned by a small silver crown. He stopped moving forward, his expression unwavering, and he didn't know what was going on in his mind.
Tarkin Amon. At least it is the divine hand of the Sequence 6 "Collector",
The Hand of God had just jumped off the carriage and cast his gaze towards the shadows under the hazy night, staring deeply for a while.
"What happened, radiant elf," asked Xienopus Hades and Salslamandis who were traveling with him. "Did the gods give unknown instructions or a vague promise?"
"None of that, my friends," Tarkin replied, "but I detect a hint of it."
"That guardian knight," Hades asked, "is he already nearby? Leave it to me."
"No, my friends, don't be impulsive," Tarkin waved his hand, "I need your help tonight. As for this unexpected visitor, the Withered Ones will entertain him."
While the three elves were whispering, several more acquaintances of Griffith arrived.
Melrose, Canaan's director of psychic research, and Ashura Brutus, a high-ranking executive wearing pure white robes. They took Alyosha, who was wearing a dress and looked uneasy, and rushed into the temple surrounded by many distinguished elves.
Could they be performing some kind of ritual... Griffith looked back and looked at the nearby underground pipes again. With these underground roads, coupled with the brute strength of the War Knight, he was confident that he could carve out a way to sneak into the temple.
Just do it, go and see what these silly roe deer are planning inside! Griffith jumped into a pipe and spread the blocking iron bars with one kick.
"Bang boring!"
There was a sound of tearing and crashing metal in the silence, and the solid bars fell like bushes before the knight. Griffith adjusted his equipment and walked inside.
However, he had just taken a few steps when some wriggling shadows appeared in the darkness.
Old, withered female elves suddenly swarmed out from all corners like cockroaches in the kitchen.
"Oh - how fresh, what a majestic breath of life!"
"I want!"
"No, he's mine!"
Griffith did not expect that a group of decadent and shriveled elven withers would swarm forward. As a great lord of the Confederacy and a powerful transcendent, he never wanted to waste time with civilians.
"Get out of the way." Griffith shouted.
Before he finished speaking, there was a sudden sharp pain in his arm. The withered hand actually penetrated the shield, tore the chain armor on the upper arm, and cut out a large piece of flesh.
"What!"
Griffith was shocked. These withered elves, with deformed and dry hands that looked like tree branches, grasped at him. Their fingernails shimmered with dark gold, and their random scratching had the property of making the shield ineffective, directly damaging the armor and flesh.
Is this the real injury in the legend!
Griffith encountered such an attack for the first time, and his blood could not help but surge, and the strength of his whole body surged.
"Back off!"
With just one sweep, seven or eight Withered Lawmen were knocked away by Griffith. However, more figures suddenly rushed over from the darkness like sharks that smelled blood.
"Look what we found!"
"A wild transcendent!"
Griffith was like kicking a cockroach nest. No matter how hard he beat and dispersed, more withered people danced and surrounded him from all directions, as if they had been drugged.
They were knocked down by sword scabbards, swept by shields, and fell to the ground in layers.
Griffith wanted to rush out, but his boots were stuck in the fallen crowd and he couldn't free his feet. There was even a withered man who seized the opportunity, grabbed his calf and shook him off.
"hiss--!"
A heart-breaking pain shot straight into his brain, and a large piece of Griffith's greaves and boots were bitten off along with the flesh. The withered man was pressed under the crowd and chewed happily.
“Delicious!”
Soon enough, Griffith took out two grenades and threw them towards the ground. Through the fragments, impact and glare of the explosion, the powerful war knight, Hand of God, Banner Captain of Beyelan, and the great lord of the Confederacy rushed out of the crowd and ran forward.
He ran in front, followed by a dense crowd of withered ones chasing after him. The prey and the large group of hunters passed through the deep tunnel, and countless withers joined along the way. They were originally integrated into the environment like murals and vines, but at this moment, they were like locusts waking up in spring, swarming and chasing each other closely.
Griffith was chased and had no way to escape. He gritted his teeth and jumped into a river.
"Thump thump!"
There was a sound like dumplings falling into the water from behind, and the black withered people also jumped into the river.
