Chapter 3538

White wave was close to the central tower, and by this time, there were not many living people to stand at the bottom. Only the Bard stood there, smiling at jagrag in the white wave.

"In that far away place, there are beautiful flowers, sunshine is the expression of the sky, rain is the sadness after loneliness..." The minstrel played and sang selflessly. Behind him was a huge red ring, in which all the blood was scarlet.

That's what he did in valchiha. He asked Andariel to do it. The two of them gathered all the vampires in the castle, and then forced them to hand over their blood for such a day.

Since they are useless, they might as well do something meaningful before they die.

As for Andariel, after using it, she was naturally thrown into oblivion. Anyway, with her great power, those guys in the oblivion would not want to deal with her.

On top of the red ring, there is a feeling that some souls of the cold harbor are superposed together, which is a very powerful force. If it is used well, it can block the strongest strike of jergrag.

The rest is up to him. Even in the face of such an enemy, the bard is still fearless, holding his beloved lute and playing softly, even when the cruel gods dare not compete with him.

The silver sword was already in front of him, but his plucking hand never stopped.

"Very well, sir, your sword is no longer sharp. Listen to me, revenge is meaningless. If you are willing to bear such a curse, I'd rather go to the shivering island. Those evil spirits with rotten buttocks have no courage to fight with you, because the chaos after that is enough for them. Instead of destroying Nain's life here, it's better to spare our strength to deal with those external troubles. "

This kind of preaching is meaningless. Jagrag's sword has been chopped down his neck.

However, only this sword, no reaction.

The sword passed through him without any hindrance, and the Bard was soon split in two by his sword and lay on the ground. White waves drown his body and rush towards the central tower.

Moragbar's face dropped to freezing point in a moment. He wanted to run away in panic. The next moment, he was stabbed in the chest by a long gun thrown from the outside.

The spear is the sword in the knight's hand. With his strength alone, moragbar can only be trapped in it no matter how he defends.

The demon's body gradually began to ossify, and then a fossil like moragbar appeared in the central tower. Jagrag was standing outside the tower. He looked inside, turned and left.

The red ring outside the central tower is still turning, but the white wave has subsided.

"The avenger has put out the flames of hatred. Where will he go?"

At this time, a song came from the central tower, and the sound of lute.

The Bard appeared at the top of the tower. After he lifted the lute, the red ring disappeared, and the Bard's body, which had been cut in two outside, completely disappeared.

"What a coincidence! It's just a little trick, moragbar. Don't you think your brain is much better than a man who has lived for nearly ten thousand years? " The minstrel laughs, and beside him is a human figure formed of plasma, which he leads to the petrified statue of moragbar.

His chest has been punctured, and in his hands there is an uneven surface, flashing strange red light of the ball.

That is adabar, the soul stone used by moragbar to hold souls. All souls tortured by him will be held in it for him to play.

Because he likes to appreciate the painful appearance of those souls. The uneven faces on adabar represent a painful soul. As long as his eyes are on those faces, you can see the miserable situation of those souls.

At one glance, at another, the minstrel began to feel a little happy. It turns out that it's really exciting to look at the pain of others!

"It's not worth your death!"

The poet held up his lute and smashed it to the stone statue. Moragbar was broken to the ground. Among the broken stones, there was a shining crystal. The crystal was wrapped with a white flower, which could only grow in the deepest part of lenggang.

Only the purest soul can grow such a flower after it dissipates, and this one is the last trace of conscience of the Bard himself.

The poet leaned over to pick up the crystal stone and clasped his hands on his chest.

For a long time, when the poet opened his eyes, he was standing under a big tree.

In the distance is the grassland with oil green vitality, and the lavender field with fragrance.

The minstrel sat under the tree, smiling, and began to play and sing on his lute.

A long time later, a blonde girl in a red dress, wearing flowers, came around from behind the tree.make love! A burst of applause came. The Bard opened his eyes and saw a beautiful woman standing in front of him.

"Your voice is very charming, at least in my hometown, no poet can be more beautiful than your voice."

"Thank you for your compliment!" The poet stopped playing.

The girl walked into him slowly with her hands behind her back, and then sat gracefully on the raised root of the tree holding her skirt.

"What was the end of the story you told last time? Such a beautiful and sad story, I hope to be able to put it all in my mind

The poet began to laugh. He plucked the strings.

"This story is actually made up by me. It's just about its ending. I haven't thought about it yet. Or, I'll sing it to you the next time I think about its ending?"

"That's good! Right here! I like this place. When you finish the story, I'll put it into a poem and bury it under the big tree. Maybe the seeds of the story will sprout in the next year. The big tree and the small tree are like a family! "

The poet felt something in his heart. He rubbed his sour eyes and tried to control his emotions.

At this time, a housekeeper like man came running, panting and looking at the girl.

"Miss, it's late. It's time to go back, or the master will be angry."

"OK, I see. I'll go back with you."

The girl's voice was beautiful. She stood up and gave the poet a sweet smile. Then she took her hand and followed the housekeeper back slowly.

Before she left, she turned to the poet and pointed to the tree.

"Remember, it's here! See you next time! "