Getting rid of the thorns took Mucha a lot of time. The cunning vines drilled into the cracks of his hands and feet, not letting him have the space to break free. He had to take the risk of transforming into a second time under the sunlight, using his huge claws to pull and claw, and his whole back was pressed against the ground and rolled around and scuffed. Only with great difficulty did he manage to free himself from the bondage.
The thorns that were torn off soon became gray and withered under the magic of the poisonous claws; only the rose petals on the ground were still fresh and tender, as if the blood stains were left behind. Even though Mucha was cautious, he still inhaled some pollen during the process, and he wrinkled up his sensitive nose, and his sensitive sense of smell got lost in the strong scent of the flowers.
First his limbs, then his nose, completely blocking his movement.
This couldn't be the magic of dill. Mucha sniffed out the scent of someone else, the powerful and terrifying witch who was thousands of miles away, giving herself a warning.
The morning sunrise is like a golden arrow, piercing through the shadowy gaps in the tree branches and dispersing all the moisture and cold of the night, except for the young man's cold face, his molten gold eyes pulsating with fire, and the spell lines on his body gradually evaporating like smoke and nitrogen from the battlefield.
One foot crushed the eyesore rose, and he followed the small footprints, thinking about whether to transform again to chase after them. However, his face soon changed, and he stayed where he was, not moving at all.
I don't know how long the sound of hoofbeats approached; the person was Sir Elder; the whole night's tossing and turning didn't seem to affect him; the warm yellow sunshine added a little bit of life to the pale skin; and the dreadful curse, on the contrary, made this frail and sickly lord's son regain his life.
"My lord."
Facing Mucha, Sir Elder had long since lost his previous arrogance and hostility, and he respectfully led a horse that wore the armor and cloak of a Silver Knight.
Looking around, several large trees snapped at the waist, and the deep claw marks on them were clearly visible. Just one palm could cover a human's head, the air was thick with the smell of grass, and the bare ground looked like a huge pit where wild beasts had rolled around. Everything reminded Ai Erde of the true nature of the young man in front of him.
He held his breath, not daring to be careless.
"Eh."
Mucha was a little distracted, having just destroyed the only clothes he had left with his transformation, so he casually picked up a white fur and wrapped it around his body. His fur was fluffy from the golden light of the morning sun, and the bangs on his forehead had retreated to a honey-brown color.
Elder: "Already caught all those Shulk men as you ordered, plus thirteen corpses have been collected from the forest, and the search will continue again today."
"That's going to be tied up a little more securely."
Mucha seemed to regain his interest. He slightly raised his eyes, still amber-colored pupils, in which there were narrow, inhuman pike lines, like crystals cut from the sunlight.
The young man smiled in disbelief and said, "These "human wolves" are very fierce, and countless people have died in their mouths."
"They keep going crazy babbling about seeing a giant wolf, what are you going to do about it?"
Elder dared not be careless in the face of this young werewolf. A werewolf touching Silver was like skin on an iron post wrapped in snow in winter; it did not cause substantial damage but every movement was a pain that tore at the flesh.
But in front of the eyes of this werewolf, once wearing pure silver armor, calmly and calmly in the sanctuary and the humans around, such as if they do not see him with their own eyes to reveal his original form, Elder simply can not believe that this last name of the wolf slayer of the teenager is the continent's most evil and powerful demonic species.
Moreover, there seemed to be something unique about him that set him apart from other werewolves.
"They're all scratched." Elder had seen the injuries of those people, he didn't understand why the other party was creating so many dependents at once, Was he planning to take over the town?
Mucha was unimpressed: "The Most High God is merciful, the church pardons man-wolves who have not poisoned humans into the seminary for lifelong prayers, except for those who have committed killings, they must be sent to the sanctuary to be purified of their curses and sins with holy fire in the presence of the Most High God."
How much more ridiculous could the world be when a werewolf bearing the surname of a wolf slayer was so full of purification that he was more headstrong than a human?
The legend of the werewolves of Jonestown had come true, and those pathetic creators had become the targets of their own hunts, as expected.
Elder suddenly understood why the other party wanted him to dig up those remains; he wanted the evidence of the crime to be conclusive so that all the evils of this town would go up in smoke, and at the same time, he could perfectly cover his tracks.
The Silver Knight, who had captured dozens of human wolves in a single breath, would be even less likely to be questioned from now on.
Sir Elder secretly huffed coldly, sort of understanding how the other party climbed to this position as a werewolf, but looking at the teenager's thin and slender back, a young wolf has this kind of city, so how cunning and ferocious should an adult wolf be?
Then he thinks of the legend that the Silver Wolf King Cyrus was still a nobleman of a certain Junli River; now even the family of the wolf-slaying hero has wolves. Is it possible that the royal families of various countries and even the church have long been taken over by these magical creatures? The holy priests who comforted the refugees in the sanctuary might turn into human flesh-eating wolves at night.
Elder, however, was only worried about the humans for so long, he was now a servant of the demons as well, and the moment he decided to go in search of the werewolves, he abandoned all of his conscience—probably all of it.
He stole a glance around and didn't notice the figure of that Eastern Shore maiden, which made him feel glad in the back of his mind.
"Didn't you get that black horse back before?"
The teenager took down the clothes on the horse's back; this horse was all white, its mane was like fluttering snow, very suitable for the identity of a Silver Knight, and it was a gift that Elder had specially found to please Mucha.
Black horse? Elder froze for a few seconds, immediately recalled the first meeting's saber-rattling, and couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat.
"At that time, I made a mistake and forgot to bring back that horse, which had an impure pedigree, and I didn't particularly go after it."
"Pity, it was a good horse."
It was still a good horse that knew what it was doing.
The horse's hooves made strange-shaped footprints on the ground, as if a sharp, hook-like smile were clearly mocking the greedy wolves.
Mucha changed into a tight leather coat of black with silver threads, then a piece of armor of pure silver, and in the blink of an eye, he was back to the knight Dill knew, blonde, blue-eyed, and saintly.
Suddenly, a red apple fell out from under the armor and rolled down to the ground in a grueling roll.
The slender fingers picked it up, and his thumb caressed the ripe red peel as if he were stroking his lover's cheek.
The young man pressed his lips against the apple as if he were giving it a blessed kiss, unable to contain his thoughts any longer.
Light and darkness, holiness and desire, man and beast, are fused into one.
The knight in silver armor bared his long, sharp canine teeth and bit down on a chunk of the watery flesh.
A man can't outrun a werewolf, but a horse can.
If a dog could sniff out a werewolf trail, a horse was one of the few animals that could outrun a werewolf.
The swift, grassy breeze combed through every inch of her dark hair as the young girl relaxed her tense muscles and soaked up the sun and breeze. She was lying on the back of the straight horse, her hair blending into the dark mane, and she still felt like she was dreaming.
My black-haired friend, wake up and look at the endless grasslands!
The big white goose flapped its wings on the crazy horse's head, and the black horse didn't mind as it continued to wear the young girl forward. Perhaps it was the gift of liberation that made it unusually close to Dill, which made Turnip feel seriously challenged and threatened.
It was a dream of madness and wonder.
When the snow-white goose led Elder's pitch-black horse to its owner, Dill literally saw a miracle; it was the Angel of the Moon, the Angel of the Moon descending on her ever-loving enchanter.
Immediately afterward, she heard strange voices.
[ I found it, my black-haired friend, ah!]
The situation was urgent; Dill couldn't think about it. She immediately jumped on the black horse, the belly of the horse clamped, and fled wildly without life.
It only took them half a day to get out of the valley, and the young girl was forced to listen to her demon and the black horse bicker for the whole morning while at the same time figuring out what was going on.
The origin of it all came from her ascended blessing [Divinity C].
The [Divinity] had been a magic that Dill had deliberately ignored, and now she was forced to revisit it.
The original [Divinity D] was defined as a low-ranked Divine Perception, just a prop used to communicate with elves and other fantasy creatures, in addition to a magic nullification shield that would not come in handy for the time being. It was only after she miraculously revived Lily and suspiciously gained the girl's faith that [Divinity D] came to [Divinity C].
[[Divinity C] God's Domain LV1, low ranked divinity, based on this blessing received the title [Divine Whisperer], can communicate directly with all things in heaven and earth. curses and blessings of spells below C rank are absolutely regularized.]]
Another bunch of unintelligible words. Lower-ranked divinity, Dill didn't quite understand the difference, but the Divine Realm looked even more awesome than Divine Perception; as for directly communicating with all things in heaven and earth, Dill could actually feel its power right now.
[White-haired partner, I hope that you will one day possess the same beauty as us.]
[Piss off !]
Even with a goose messing with his head, the black horse still didn't slow down his pace. The stretches of white clouds and mountains were constantly being left behind, along with a jumble of unsettling thoughts that the young girl had left behind.
Dill buried herself in its thick mane and imagined that looking down from above, they must have looked like a blackfish swimming upstream against the blue waves of the grassland.
There were endless waves of grass ahead, the sun warming their backs, and the young girl glanced at the outlines of distant mountains that seemed to paint the uncertain shape of the future.
It was a path that could only be traveled forward.
She lay on the back of the lurching horse, listening to the two animals bicker, but slowly letting go of the nerves that had been strained all night.
But for now, let her rest a little.
Consider it a dream, sweet and bitter.