Endless Debt.

Chapter 762 Massacre

Palmer looked at Borrog from a distance, not knowing what he was doing. Suddenly, the surrounding blood mist shrank rapidly, and all of it was attached to the handle axe.

Burrog turned around, waved at Palmer, and signaled him to come over. Palmer swallowed, stepped on the blood on the ground, and strode forward.

"What's going on?" Palmer asked.

Bologo looked indifferent, "It's nothing, the new weapon is a bit uncomfortable, so I adjusted it."

As he spoke, he raised the hand ax in his hand, and the tyrannical killing intent was almost solidified. Palmer couldn't help but took a step back. In his opinion, it was a cursed thing blessed by all evils, but Bo Logo held it as he would a normal handaxe, completely unaffected by it.

"No problem?" Palmer asked warily.

"No problem," said Burlogo. "There's a simple way to restrain a violent lunatic... as long as you're more violent than him."

Under Bologo's coercion, Fayao Sawaxe seemed to have made a compromise, and the sound of the war drums beside Bologo's ears weakened, and the frequency also became lower.

Burrog looked at this weapon curiously. Unlike conventional contract objects, it seems to have a vague self-awareness and will actively erode the user. What's even more amazing is that it will even interact with the user when necessary. Make deals, make concessions.

It was the first time Burlogo had used such a weapon, which made him feel very novel.

The previous users of the Sawaxe were all power-hungry, so they would be bewitched by power and gradually be dominated by it. However, Bologo is different. He is a pragmatist with a very simple cognitive concept.

The so-called power is just a tool to achieve the goal, and one of the biggest characteristics of the tool is that the tool can be replaced.

If this power doesn't satisfy Burrog, he can drop it and get another one.

On this point, Bologo has always been sober, even too pragmatic. Most of the weapons that accompany Bologo, their ultimate fate is not to be replaced and sealed, but to be destroyed in battle.

From the folding knives that were wholesaled at the beginning, the vibrating hammer that was replaced when it broke, to the shining blade seized from Ke Dening, and even the Phantom Dagger and the Horror Soul that have greatly shortened their service life.

In Burrog's hands, weapons have only one fate, and that is to perish in battle, not dust in warehouses.

The Sawaxe has fought for countless years, and its body is full of traces of the enemy's sword. Today, it has added a few scars, but these scars are not from the enemy, but from its users.

Bologo knew that this contracted object would not give up and affect him, but it didn't matter, as long as it could handle the current action well.

Thinking in this way, Bologo looked at the strange bird corpses that swarmed again, and he waved his hand, and the palpitating etheric fluctuations spread quickly, completely covering them.

Burrog raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

Mysterious power · governing decree.

The moment the ether fluctuated, the extremely aggressive ether had already penetrated the already fragile defenses of the strange bird and the soldiers.

Burrog held their blood.

The soldier's body trembled violently. He felt something surging in his body, like a group of snakes crawling. He felt a pain in his chest, and then a rush of hot blood burst out of his chest. The moment he left his body, the blood Cast it into a blade, which in turn cuts its own internal organs and bones.He couldn't imagine what was going on, and subconsciously screamed.

The pain spread all over the soldier's body, and he wailed for the broken limbs, his face twisted into a ball, and then the blood blade sliced ​​through his lung cavity, cutting off the moaning, the wound depleted all the oxygen in his body, and his breathing began to change. The pain was rapid, and the pain became more intense.

Blood and intestines spilled all over the ground, soldiers fell to the ground, blood flowed from throats, mouths and noses, more soldiers fell, strange birds fell, and corpses shattered.

After the intensive training in the actual combat room, although Bologo did not reach the extreme state, his control over the aether has undoubtedly become much more sophisticated, and it is really easy to deal with these people.

Burrog strode forward, not needing to swing a sword or axe, but tearing them apart from the inside, turning the blood of their enemies into blades that sliced ​​through their skin and ruptured their bones and entrails.

Palmer looked at Burrog's back, and even as his partner, he felt a little scared.

The power of Burlogo is just too hopeless.

The enemies could clearly feel their bodies being torn apart from the inside, and the life-supporting blood turned into blades, creating bruises and purple wounds inside their blood vessels, cutting muscles and bones, tearing out labor pains and groans .

Internal organs and muscles were ruptured and destroyed, and their bodies began to split apart continuously. Under the perception of nerves, they could perceive their own death, and the inside of their bodies became chaotic and painful, which was unbearable.

Some enemies were directly cut in half, and their internal organs were scattered all over the place. Their groans and pain before death made people want to close their ears, but this is a battlefield, and no one can block their senses.

Crimson blood splattered all over the place. When Bologo's secret energy terminated, the remaining human tissues and organs were scattered all over the place. The hideous scene made people feel heartbroken and horrified. The smell of blood and screams were still lingering , which is unforgettable.

Palmer didn't know what power the handaxe possessed, but at least judging from the picture in front of him, Burrog was a thousand times more brutal than it.

Wiping the blood from his face, Palmer couldn't help but said, "Sometimes, I really think you are a complete lunatic."

"Why?" Burrog looked forward.

"I have seen many bloodthirsty lunatics, but when they slash, they always make some roars to vent their rage... In fact, this is pretty good, at least he proves that he is a monster with emotions. "

Palmer lowered his head, looking at the bloody sword and axe.

"But you are different. You have no expression at all. I don't even understand whether you enjoy killing or just have a bad taste."

If Burrog yelled something, Palmer would think he was a demon from hell, but when he was silent, Palmer would often fantasize that Burrog was something more terrifying and mysterious.

Chilling.

"Me?" Bologo didn't know how to explain it, so he could only say, "I might need to see a doctor."

"Cure your mental illness?"

"No, treat my facial muscles," Burrog asked earnestly. "Do you think I'm facial paralyzed?"

Palmer thought for a while, "Your expression is much richer than facial paralysis."

"That's good." Burlog nodded.

"What the hell!" Palmer's voice rose.

Burrog laughed twice, and explained casually, "Palmer, don't be nervous, I'm just working."

He added, "It's just that I work in a rougher style."

Another loud bang exploded behind him, and even the ground under his feet trembled violently. With the frontal battle between the king's secret sword and the king's shield guard, the high concentration of ether gathered here, triggering various visions.

Like the doomsday, the buildings around the Wandering Fork Road are collapsing little by little. Large areas of buildings collapsed. Behind the dust raised by the gravel, shrill screams sounded, and countless demons roared towards them.

"It's like turning over a brick on the side of the road and finding it's full of bugs."

Seeing such a sight, Bologo murmured.

The battle in front of us is just a foreplay. The real battlefield is in front of Bologo. Geological changes have caused certain distortions in the road that Bologo is familiar with, but Bologo can still recognize the way forward. , a long and narrow dark road full of mist, if there is something blocking him, he only needs to control it.

Nothing can stop Burrog.

He suddenly remembered the words of blessing that others had said to him a long time ago, and at this moment he repeated it in a low voice.

"The mountains give way, and the sea part ways."

At the end of the narrow road, Bologo once again saw the ruined wall on the cliff and surrounded by the sea of ​​fog. It has stood for too long, like a witness of the years.

The Fog Abyss Fortress stands on a steep cliff. Looking up from the bottom up, it is easy to be attracted by its size and terror. Thick fog is surging around, and the sense of space begins to blur, making people lose their way.

It has been soaked in the fog for a long time, and the surface of the building is full of thick moss and other disgusting fungal plants. They are parasitic on the ruins, eating away at its remaining flesh and blood, and multiplying continuously. Spread until every part of the rock is completely covered.

Under the previous destruction by Bologo, the dilapidated ruins have changed greatly. From a distance, the whole building looks like a huge conical round wall. A huge scar runs across the wall, and the wound overflows. The mist is like the blood flowing out of it.

In this once gorgeous and fortified fortress, everything has long been barren and dilapidated.

Bologo had an inexplicable emotion. He had participated in many battles, but he had never been like this before, facing the Misty Fortress again and again.

"You've stood up long enough," whispered Borrog, "it's time to crumble and return to dust."

There were gusts of wind in the sea of ​​mist, twisted into grotesque smiles, as if mocking Borrog's naive idea.

The roar of the ether behind him stopped abruptly, and the fourth seat seemed to have conquered the line of defense and went deep into the rift valley. The king's secret sword was like a tide, sweeping away all the evil in the sea of ​​fog.

But when the enemies here were completely wiped out, Bologo knew that they would stand on the opposite side again until they died.

It has always been so.

In the deep darkness, a pair of tired eyes had already seen all this clearly.

"What should you do?"

Mammon turned her head and looked at the Shadow King on the ruined throne.

The Shadow King didn't say a word, his broken body was wrapped in exquisite iron armor, he stroked the blade in his hand, accompanied by the weak surge of ether, a few flames flashed across the blade.