Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

The bustling slaughter wharf of yesteryear is now deserted—no, maybe it shouldn't be said.

No one, but a lot of undead.

A icy mist swept across the tumbling sea, and millions of undead crowded together, their ribs next to each other, wailing dully. These beings with endless resentment towards the living revealed their minions, slammed into the swarms of ships docked in the port, and easily tore everything to shreds.

A Freljord in a horned helmet with two axes on his back watched them from behind the line.

He saw a ghost flew into a ship that was docked on the shore, sank into the hull, and flew out with the keel of the ship after a few seconds, more ghosts rushed on, the deck of the ship was several It was frozen into ice within the heartbeat, and then slowly sank without making a sound.

Olaf didn't expect his luck to be so good - he bumped into what the locals often say about the night, and he happened to be holding an axe in his hand. Wasn't this the glorious death he had always wanted?

His thoughts were interrupted.

A sailor with strong arms came to him, a sharp saber in his hand, and a repeating pistol at his waist.

He looked at Olaf and said in a brave tone that he knew was forced, "They're not that scary."

The Freljord gave him a look and declined to comment. It's true that he doesn't like to use his brain very much, and it's true that he has been looking for people to fight and die -- but that doesn't mean he's an idiot.

Not so scary? No artillery can destroy a ship so quickly in such a short period of time. If all of them were ghosts of that kind, then he might have to change his plans. Of course it's good to fight a strong opponent, but only if you can beat it.

"Hey, did you say a few words, Berserker?" The sailor was still trying to talk to him, and Olaf knew why.

Direwolves will also talk to the Alpha Wolf in the face of a strong enemy, trying to gain some courage from it. The sailor now behaves like them. It's just that he's not a direwolf, and this sailor doesn't deserve to be compared with them.

Olaf didn't want to give him courage.

"You almost fell to the ground in fright, and you pretended not to be afraid at all and said they weren't scary at all?"

Olaf sneered: "It's better to think about how to keep yourself alive, sailor."

Li ignored the other's blushing face. He continued to look forward, the black mist rolled in, and it was in front of him in a moment. Some locals were immediately caught by the undead in them with arms like rotten wood, as if sinking into the sea, without making a sound.

A familiar fury began to climb up his crest, and an undead seemed to regard him as one of those warm-blooded, reaching out its claws, desperately trying to catch Olaf inside. All it gets is the deadly slam of two axes.

hit.

Olaf's heart was overjoyed, and his anger was even swayed a little - Aoun is on top! They are not immune to True Ice! The undead he slashed melted like a bubble.

"For Locklaw!"

He shouted the name of his hometown in a big way. Not only did he not escape the terrifying fog, he even rushed in. The thick black mist immediately enveloped him, and the tragic green light boiled in it. The wailing of the undead reminded him all the time that he had stepped into the realm of death.

so what? !

Olaf grinned and threw the axe in his hand. His skill was impeccable. The axe slid in a deadly arc and landed in the midst of a group of entangled undead. Zhen Bing faintly glowed, and the storm of ice broke out in an instant, destroying this little aggregation of the undead in an instant.

However, this is not over.

He raised his only remaining axe and strode in that direction. He didn't even bother to bow his head to avoid it, the ghosts along the way, those deep nightmares beyond human imagination stretched out their bony claws and scratched his exposed skin hungrily, leaving blood on his arms and thighs. non-stop traces.

"Is that all?!"

Olaf bit the flesh of his cheek, blood gushing out, and the pain stimulated his rage even more. He ran to the spot where his axe fell and picked it up. Then, like a madman, he swung the double axe in his hand frantically, and the ghosts and monsters he saw along the way died one after another. Whether it's a ghost without a body, or a skeleton frame.

- must die! These things have to die, even if they have already died once!

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The streets of Bilgewater are nearly deserted.

From the top of the lighthouse on the edge of the coastline came the bell, monotonous, still ringing. Fearful cries echoed down the mountain. The entire Bilgewater was completely immersed in black fog, and the ruins were howling with wind. The flames burned all the way along the Butcher's Bridge. It was an almost apocalyptic scene.

Uptown people hid in their lavishly decorated homes and prayed to Nagakaporos that she would keep them safe through the Night of Soul Eaters. They don't know that Nagakaporos' blessings are only for those with a heart of steel.

But they still have a place to stay, and the people of Lower Town are not so lucky.

Sarah Doom pursed her lips tightly, almost forming a line. It was a waste of time, and her full lips should always have a mysterious smile. UU reading www.uukanshu. com However, at this moment, no one will say anything about her.

She is now staying with her men, in a famous 'spot' - Pickpocket's Square.

It used to be a very prosperous market here. People set up stalls of various colors on the side of the boat. Butchers, liquor dealers, pirates, bounty hunters and surly homeless flock here from all over the world. You can see it clearly from almost anywhere in Bilgewater. And now...

It doesn't look very pleasing.

The cold wind howled, and the deadly cold blew past. Sarah buttoned her double-breasted coat a little tighter. There were people crying and screaming in the distance. I don't know if it was an illusion. She could even hear low sobbing.

Sarah turned her head and found that her first mate, Raven, was igniting a piece of queen grass, which is said to ward off evil spirits in ancient legends - of course, Sarah didn't believe it.

"Do you really believe this?"

Raven glanced at her and showed an ambiguous expression: "If you believe it, what do you think? You don't need money anyway... Believe it a little bit."

"Yes, ma'am," said a sailor, waving his pistol. "I believe in my guns and, of course, Queen Grass and Lady Beard."

Sarah rolled her eyes, turned her head away and stopped talking, but her heart was gurgling.

Faith is there, then, should she believe in God, or should she believe in bullets?

At this moment, she recalled the man's face in her heart, and suddenly showed a smile.

Better to trust him - Sarah Doom thought self-deprecatingly, then drew her pistol, and a cloud of black mist was blown up by the bullets she fired. All the voices stopped for a moment, and then the mist began to tremble like a convulsion.

The ghosts started screaming.