Mystery Makes Me Strong

At this moment, a half-mountain palace.

"Weil, I still underestimate the clergy. They are not stronger than my mice, but they have too many skill combinations. Seemingly small skills, they will explode with a hundred times the power." The big mouse Said to his sister.

"Brother, what do you need me to do?" Weir was a little discouraged.

Unlike the beginning, she was devoted to helping her brother and escaped from the dark underground rat farm.

"I need a more powerful mouse, preferably a smart ratman." The big mouse said coldly.

"Ratman, isn't it?" Weil thought of something terrible.

"Yes, I want the rats to fight each other more intensely to choose the strongest one." The big rat nodded.

Weir was slightly relieved, God knows what she just thought of.

Anyway, that's something that can't be said.

"Can this work?" She couldn't help asking.

"Well, it doesn't seem to be feasible to do this. I understand. Let people, let people be their filters. Only the most intelligent mice can survive from human hands. Just like ordinary mice, they will be caught by simple traps. dead, the rest will not easily fall into the trap, and will not easily eat rat poison." The big mouse quickly thought of a better solution.

Weil sighed slightly, and hugged the puppy.

This is her only spiritual consolation.

"I'm leaving, by the way, send me another batch of fertile red-eyed female mice."

three months later.

The big mouse looked at the new batch of mice with satisfaction.

They are wiser.

No matter how cunning the enemy army is, don't let them be easily fooled.

Moreover, they have higher resistance to the skill system of the clergyman and more ways to deal with it.

They began to master a kind of power called "fel energy".

This was after a group of mice were repeatedly killed hundreds of times by a certain fel cleric, and a certain newly born mutant red-eyed mouse finally possessed this kind of power.

The halo of the clergyman faded in the eyes of the big mouse, and he degenerated into a "professional".

The big mouse was very happy.

Of course he didn't know that this was actually the fel energy pollution in Warcraft.

Fel energy will automatically expand and spread to those who come into contact.

As long as the contact person falls by himself, he will gradually master this power.

Fel energy was only the first energy the Rats began to master.

Then came death, shadows, and all kinds of negative energies, which began to be mastered by them.

And they gradually imitated the professionals and established various mouse occupations.

Shadow Rat, Assassin Rat, Explosive Rat, Plague Rat, Poison Rat...

Everything you need.

Professionals are starting to panic.

Because they discovered that in the past, one hundred professionals could wipe out hundreds of thousands of rats, but now one hundred can only defeat a few thousand.

But mice can live and live.

It can be doubled dozens of times in just a few months.

They started to run out of steam.

…………

The first batch of professionals returned to the Great Emperor's team and abandoned the mine they guarded.

"Your Majesty, the mice have become stronger again." The leader of the professionals, a duke, said.

"Oh, I see." Lancelot nodded.

"We need stronger power, and it is best for the envoys to open up higher abilities for us." The Duke said unwillingly.

"God has given us everything, just like giving ordinary people the greatest wisdom, making it possible for them to solve all problems by themselves." Lancelot shook his head.

The duke obviously didn't believe it.

But now must rely on the emperor.

The emperor's skill tree is stronger.

Everyone knows this.

Because everyone didn't know how to play earlier, they ordered a lot of messy skills.

Anyone who has played the game knows that the same attribute and the same skill point, take Diablo as an example, if you click it well, you can pass hell.

Be blind, not good, and you will find it tricky on normal difficulty.

Lancelot has the knight's battlefield instincts, and knows to let others make a test first, and then make a clear investigation.

So he was the last to order, and also the best.

His skill system is a combination of offense and defense, plus mobility, and is all-around.

If the Almighty is not well ordered, it is useless, but if it is well ordered, it is the king.

You can be very powerful, but if you encounter someone who restrains you, just wait for death.

"Then what should we do, Your Majesty?"

"Go to the battlefield and get back the feeling of beheading the tauren back then."

cheating us again.

The Duke thought smugly.

he left.

That night, he bribed the emperor's eunuch with a lot of money.

"What are your majesty's plans?"

"fighting."

"How dare you lie to me?" the Duke said angrily.

"No, no, my lord duke, what the emperor usually talks about is fighting, fighting desperately, fighting desperately, even if you consume the last Jintale, you must fight!" the eunuch said in fear.

He was afraid of being turned into a sheep by the duke and then killed.

This is still good, for fear of being sold to barbarians.

What does it mean to fight?

Yes, it must be the emperor who tricked others into going to war.

After years of aristocratic life, the Duke has long learned the hypocrisy and cunning of nobles.

He is no longer the ordinary card player he used to be.

In fact, his skills are gradually becoming more cunning.

What "speaking skills", "deception", "deception", "conspiracy"... all kinds of skills are developed on this.

Only in terms of combat, he only clicked on the skills of escape and life-saving.

In fact, many professionals do this secretly.

After all, His Majesty the Emperor cannot check everyone's skill panel.

This caused the fight to be okay at first, and once the rats got stronger, they started to find their own problems:

Not deep enough.

The duke realized that they were going to fail in the face of the mighty mouse!

This is the same as in the game, before the team battle, I feel that my side's skills can't keep up.

Early the next morning, His Majesty the Emperor went out to fight.

The Duke found an excuse to pretend to be sick, and let his summon, a wild boar, follow him.

Other professionals have also used the same excuse.

They only let summoned objects go into battle.

Lancelot felt a pang of sadness.

"It's only been a few years? The dead King Lotos, and many old nobles, have you all forgotten?" He couldn't help but roared at these professionals.

"How did they fail? It was because they didn't dare to bet everything, because they wanted to annihilate us with a small price, but they were killed by us and collapsed!"

"Just forget about it!"

"Look at you, every duke, every marquis, every family is rich, every lover has countless lovers, every private son can form an alliance!"

"Among you, which one is not my confidant? Which one has not been on the battlefield with me?"

"But look now, are you still worthy of the battle you once fought?"

"Are you still fighters? You seem to have forgotten that you are just the lowest-level soldiers, and becoming card players is the power given to you by the envoys!"

Card player?

The dukes, marquises, and earls were in a daze when they heard this unfamiliar yet familiar word.

Yes, they are still card players, not noble priests!