A knife carved from black bone pieces is shallowly cut through the rough bark, leaving inconspicuous patterns on these lush towering trees, and then applying blood to it, infusing the power of spirit and blood. Each mark is covered with blood three times, and this cycle is repeated...

Richard performed the imprint operation according to memory, using the skeleton carving knife in his hand to leave runes symbolizing deep power on the trunks in the forest, and applied his blood on the runes. Then he raised his head and looked at Dumont who was doing the same thing not far away.

He walked over, as if he wanted to say hello to the other party.

"These marks are weak in power alone," Dumont said casually when he saw Richard approaching, "but as long as there are enough quantities, it will have enough impact on Shilantis."

"It's not enough... it's far from enough..." Richard murmured vaguely, his fingers unconsciously turning the bone knife in his hand.

"The influence of these marks alone is indeed not enough, but the process will accelerate once it starts. When Shilantis 'recalled' that day, it is time to pick the fruits," Dumont laughed, as if full of confidence in the future. "Though those 'preachers' are unreliable, at least this time, the information they provide comes in handy."

Richard didn't say anything, but slowly raised his head, looking up at the big tree that Dumont had just left his mark as if he was admiring the scenery - he looked so seriously that Dumont subconsciously raised his head and looked at the canopy above in confusion.

"What are you looking at? What's there..."

Richard suddenly raised his arm, and in a posture and angle that a human joint could never make - almost folding his right arm into three sections, letting his hand wrap around Dumont's blind spot, and stabbed the bone knife into the latter's chest.

But the small knives used to perform rituals cannot kill people, and this blow only pierces the flesh.

A sharp sting suddenly came from his chest. The sudden and inexplicable attack made Dumon's mind blank for a moment, but he then reacted and slapped Richard's arm open, pressed one hand to the injured area, and flashed backwards.

The dark chains appeared instantly, and an ugly hideous deep hound appeared behind Dumont. But before the hound could react, the dead bird on Richard's shoulder suddenly swept down, and a pair of giant wings of bones extended like shackles and deformed, instantly covering the hound. Accompanied by the squeaking bone struggle, collision and friction, the two demons were entangled together, and it was difficult to separate for a while.

"Are you crazy?!" Dumont widened his eyes and looked at Richard, who was standing not far away in astonishment, "You want to kill me?"

"No," Richard shook his head, he glanced at the deep hound that was temporarily controlled by the accused Deadbird, with a hint of indescribable disgust on his face, but he still said to Dumont seriously, "I just want to help."

"Help me?" Dumon was stunned. He looked at Richard opposite him, as if he was looking at a madman, but at the same time, a huge confusion appeared in his heart - because the ritual carving knife could not kill anyone, the other party's sudden attack just now only scratched himself, which made him not know what to react for a moment. Only one thing can be sure: Richard's condition is not right!

However, Richard nodded seriously: "Yes, help you, your body is empty, I want to fill in cotton for you, which can make you feel better."

"...Cotton?" Du Meng replied inexplicably, confusedly, "What are you talking about crazy words..."

He suddenly stopped.

He felt that the area where he was stabbed just now seemed a little itchy.

This slight itch quickly turned into a strange feeling that could not be ignored, as if something was growing there and was squirming there.

He subconsciously reached out and scratched the itchy area, and then he didn't care about continuing to be alert to Richard, who was obviously in a state that was not right on the other side, and looked down at his wound.

The blood was no longer flowing, and on the clothes stained with some blood, you could vaguely see white flocs - flocs are gradually increasing, just like... they are transformed from blood.

After hesitating for a moment, Dumont pulled open his collar and saw that the small wound was healing. Between the flesh and blood, cotton was drilling into his body little by little.

The entangled death birds and the deep-hound gradually stopped fighting. The stupid and wise demons did not understand what hatred and anger were. The emotions and cognition of the symbiotics determined their behavior. As the bone wings gradually closed, the two demons returned behind their respective masters.

Dumont raised his head and looked at Richard standing opposite him with a subtle expression - he still remembered that the other party had never had a good relationship with him, especially this in recent times. Although there is no question of how much hatred there is, sporadic frictions occur from time to time.

It is precisely because he asked the other party to be with him when he decided to act in groups - because he didn't want Richard to have any "small moves" outside his sight.

He never thought that this guy would do such a thing to him.

After hesitating for a long time, Dumont finally spoke awkwardly: "You are so weird."

Richard laughed. At this moment, the insignificant rift between him and Dumont was eliminated - @#￥% repaired the brotherhood between him and his compatriots.

"We should help others, too," Richard said sincerely. "Everyone has a hollow body, they all need cotton."

"Yes, everyone needs cotton..." Dumont was a little uncomfortable with this new self, and his expression was a little awkward when he spoke, but he agreed with Richard's suggestion, "We can start with Sharier's group - he is an honest and hardworking person."

"No problem, but we need to plan, people without cotton are irrational, and they may not yet know the importance of cotton - just like you just did. We need to properly consider their attitude..."

"Yes, the rabbi also thinks you need to plan..."

“We can discuss as we go.”

"Then let's go." "Let's go." "Let's go."

Richard and Dumont raised their heads at the misty path in the forest, then took steps and walked towards the depths of this misty dream.

The rabbi went hunting.

...

The land covered with ashes and black scum creaked when it stepped on, and it always gave people the illusion that it would sink at any time. The collapsed and broken branches and debris were intertwined, which was even more hindering than the bushes and vines in the forest.

Nina and Morris walked hard between this huge wreckage that stretched for no reason. After a while, they were still moving around its edge.

"This place is harder to walk than the forest outside," Nina couldn't help but mutter, "At least there are paths in the forest that are trampled by wild animals... There are ashes everywhere that will fall into the foot."

As she said, she raised her feet from the ashes and the black scum, and her dirty shoes made her frown.

She held a burnt branch beside her, took off the shoes on her left foot, poured them out hard, and poured out several stones and black residue.

"And I think we've always been just spinning around the edge of this scorched earth," she said, "Can we really find our way into the center of the wreckage?"

"The collapsed canopy blocked the road to the main trunk of Cyrantis... It was indeed a bit troublesome." Morris frowned and said, looking at the chaotic and intertwined charred branches in the distance.

Although it is a branch, the scale of those things actually exceeds the concept of "branches". The wreckage of branches falling from the top of the tree of the world can be described as "horrifying scale". Even some branches that are considered "thin branches" in proportion are often as long as a hundred meters long and are nearly like towers in diameter. Their crisscrossing on this scorched earth, the huge structure formed is daunting. From a distance, it is more like... a giant city that collapses from the clouds than burnt dead branches.

Faced with such a bunch of "dead branches and leaves", it is unrealistic to use brute force to open the road. The only way is to take a detour, take a detour, or risk diving into the gaps between the branches and looking for those paths that have not been completely blocked by ashes.

"If Miss Vanna was here, maybe she would just rush in in a straight line," the idea of ​​"brute force to open the way" appeared in her mind, and Nina couldn't help but mutter, "These wreckage blocking the way could not stop her from punching."

"Vanna is not just brute force," Morris couldn't help but say when he heard this, "And even if she is facing such things..."

He stopped halfway through his speech, as if he was a little hesitant.

After a moment, he shook his head: "Okay, not necessarily, maybe she can."

"Actually, I can..." Nina murmured in a low voice.

Morris glanced at the girl, as if he wanted to say something, but just as he was about to speak, a breeze suddenly blew over the ashes - in the sudden dust fog, he and Nina saw a vague shadow not far ahead, not far away, seemingly flashing by.

That looks like an elf standing in the wind in a daze?

Nina was stunned for a moment, then she suddenly turned her head: "Mr. Morris, have you seen that place just now..."

"I saw it," Morris said before Nina finished speaking, his expression becoming a little serious, "that seems like an elf."

"It doesn't look like 'Xilin'..." Nina said with uncertainty, "It looks like...it's like..."

She hesitated, not daring to make a conclusion for a moment, but Morris nodded slightly-
Chapter completed!