The Godsfall Chronicles

Eagle escapes and finds a corner to hide and rest. Her chest hurts hot and she feels all wet. Though it is not very clear, it must have been shallow, a very dangerous wound that, although not too much blood has been lost, can hardly escape the collapse of infection and die of pain.

Perhaps an overrun.

Maybe too much blood.

The cloud hawk's brain is getting chaotic and his eyelids are getting heavier and heavier, and he really wants to close his eyes for a while, but he knows this is absolutely not possible.

This dangerous place doesn't know how many deadly creatures there are, the bloody smell of the wound will definitely attract the bloodthirsty guys, and if you coma now, it means you will never wake up again.

Very tired, very painful, very tired, endurance is fast to the limit, death is not a relief.

The cloud hawk pushes this idea back, it hasn't come out of the ruins, it hasn't come out of the wilderness, it hasn't fulfilled its promise, how can you be willing to die here, the old man will laugh, you must live, you must live!

The desire for survival burns again like a stubborn flame.

The cloudhawk took off his blood-soaked cloth and wrapped his wound tight. He had to find his way out of this goddamn place as soon as possible!

The surrounding fluorescent green algae can barely lead the way in the dark, but in the intricate underground passage, the eagle has long lost its sense of direction and has no idea where to go.

That subtle feeling appeared again, as if something had clearly called him.

The cloud hawk is not sure if this feeling is real, but now that there is no way to go, simply give fate to the sixth sense and start jogging along the complex underground passage.

Your health is getting worse.

But it's as complicated as a maze.

The cloud hawk still hasn't walked out for decades, and the feeling is getting stronger and stronger in the underworld. As he looks forward, he actually reaches a hidden and luminous exit.

There it is!

There it is!

This must be the exit. Finally!

Fuck the diggers, now I just want to live!

The cloudhawk was happy to accelerate his footsteps. When he was about to go out, the cloudhawk suddenly burst and his face was frozen - no! No, no, no!

Damn it!

This is simply a point of intersection of four or five channels. The so-called light is the light emitted by the bonfire. The corners of the walls are filled with neat bone spears and tools. A large amount of air-dried bacon is hung by iron hooks. What frightens the eagle is that there are at least thirty or forty sweepers inside!

Where's the exit? It's the sweeper's nest!

Hawk exit not found, but came to the center of the maze?

Four or five desert pickers with their hands and feet tied together are being caught alive by these sweepers, throwing them on the ground as if they were animals to be slaughtered, one facing desperate fear of death, yet their mouths are jammed tightly and no sound is heard at all.

The sweeper is brutal.

Their fate is doomed to tragedy.

The sweepers are big and small, adults and children alike, and the appearance of sarcomas covered in branches is like a tree man, and these sweepers can mutate but reproduce, and they can pass on mutation stability to the next generation, which is very rare in the wilderness.

The sweepers gathered together, kneeling in front of a high ladder, and reading vague words in their mouths, saying something as if they were devout worshippers.

There is a dark gem at the top of the staircase, not bound by the law of gravity, suspended on the staircase in the sky, it is probably this supernatural phenomenon, so let these foolish sweepers be in awe, so come and worship as gods!

The cloud hawk was shocked, too!

What the hell is this?

The cloud eagle has an indescribable feeling, which transcends the wonder of the senses. The source seems to be in this amazing gem. It is the gem on which some sound was made that led the cloud eagle here, so much so that it became a little faint when it was seen.

After all, he is an ordinary lowlife picker. How have you ever seen such a magical thing?

The ritual of worship of the sweepers was coming to an end. Two sweepers removed tools similar to the sweepers, and several large captives were dragged in. They pulled the sweepers apart and one of the scavengers' hands was pressed up.

“Don't, don't! Ah!”

The thick knife snapped.

Two palms were cut off alive, and the waste-pickers cried out, and the other four were completely paralyzed and incontinent in their defecation. The sweepers packed blood in containers and poured it on young children.

These mutant skin appear to have a moisture absorption function, which is quickly absorbed when blood is poured on the body. Dozens of sweepers began to rave, brutally slicing the picker's arm into pieces with a knife, like a carrot cut, ready to smoke with an iron stick.

Cruel!

Crazy!

These distorted creatures enjoy torturing other creatures!

Several waste-pickers screamed wildly and pulled the eagle back to reality. He shook his head hard and turned back to God. He himself was frightened by cold sweats.

Eagles can't help but slap themselves!

How dare you be so stupid? It's not fatal, it's dangerous sweepers everywhere, if caught like these poor waste-pickers, will be cut to pieces alive first, and suffer countless torments before dying.

Run now!

The eagle stood up carefully, and the eagle backed away.

At this time, when the last waste-picker was untied and ready to put a knife on him to cut off his hand, inspired by endless fear and desire for survival, he burst out of extraordinary power, broke free of the sweeper's bondage, escaped from several sweepers and was rushing wildly towards the passage.

Useless struggle.

The sweeper flew over a hook and grabbed his foot, causing the wastepicker to fall to the ground. Just as he was about to be pulled back, he could see a cloud hawk stuck in the corridor from his perspective.

The cloud eagle felt bad in his heart, and he hurried back to where he had been.

Too late.

“Help! ”

“Help! ”

“Please help me! ”

When the wastepicker was dragged back, ten fingers grabbed deep marks on the ground, the nails were broken unconscious, and he screamed hysterically.

He knew it was impossible to be saved.

But survival instincts make him like a drowner, even a straw won't let go!

The cloudhawk feels the cold going straight to his back and again feels a strong crisis!

The sweepers immediately stopped the carnival, all revealing suspicion, and several people took the spear and set out a guarded deity.

It's over.

Got caught!

Wastepickers were dragged back directly to the ground, and the other four or five sweepers slowly walked away with their weapons.

The cloudhawk felt a dangerous atmosphere, which made him feel strongly suffocated, some trembling and pulling a sharp piece of iron from his waist, which was now the only weapon.

Resist?

Little slices of iron can't threaten the sweeper, any sweeper can kill him easily!

Running away?

The cloud eagle can't run away from the sweeper. The last time was pure luck. This luck can't happen a second time, let alone no more running power!

Can't we just wait to die?!

Death may not be terrible, waiting for the process of death, and not being able to resist despair, this is the real suffering!

The cloud hawk couldn't figure out how to cope with the situation, and every time the sweeper went further, death was close to him.

A few sweepers also thought it strange that they didn't hear anything. Is there really something hiding? Anyway, check it out!

The sweeper approached, five meters, four meters, three meters...

The cloud eagle is full of sweat, holding her breath so hard that she can't breathe. She can only pray so hard in her heart. Don't come any closer. Don't come any closer!

This prayer is useless.

The sweeper still walked over. The cloud hawk gripped the iron chips and strained them tight. They were all dead anyway, so let's do it again!

The sweeper skin is very tough?

Then stab him in the eye!

The sweeper can see the eagle in two more steps, and the eagle is ready to attack, but at this moment, from the other side of the channel, a few crisp gunshots are heard, especially in a quiet space.

It's the fat guy!

This cunning son of a bitch, he threw the scavengers in as bait to step on the trap and get their attention, and when the scavengers almost died, they could follow the trail, find the scavengers' lair, and launch a sneak attack on the scavengers?

Shit!

You insidious bastard!

Because of him, dozens of waste-pickers are dying, and because of him, the cloud eagle is almost dead.

But now I have to thank him!

Not far from the sound of two gunshots, Fatty took a man into the home nest of the sweepers, who couldn't hear a thing and immediately took all their weapons and gathered them in the direction. Those who soon discovered the Eagle's sweepers joined the queue of resistance to invaders.

Dozens of sweepers walk clean!

Extremely intense fighting coming from the corridor immediately!

The fat white man, the strong black man, and seven or eight mercenaries, can they beat so many dangerous sweepers? The eagle gasped heavily and left the hiding place. The brain was hypoxic and dizzy. There was only one thought. Run!

The cloudhawk went into action and suddenly hesitated.

The gem!

This stone seems unusual. The sweepers have resisted mercenaries. Why not take a chance to steal it?

The idea that a normal person would escape like a dead man would no doubt be very different, but he, born humble and ordinary, was unwilling to abandon any chance of changing his destiny. He has implicitly felt that there may be something unexplainable about this gem!

Take a risk!

The eagle rushed into the sweeper's lair and stepped on the ground full of messy bones. There was no fluorescent green algae on either side of the wall, which was painted with all kinds of strange patterns.

It's about an ugly, evil bunch of mutants, clustered around an equally ugly creature, like a tree mutant, perhaps one of them.

The creature clustered in the center is very tall, wearing a strange leather coat, as commander, leading the ugly mutant against the enemy. Their opponents are normal humans with live ammunition, and the commander of these normal humans is another tall and radiant creature.

An evil, ugly like a demon, a glorious like an angel.

One is a disgusting mutant, the other is a very normal human being!

This is the great duel between darkness and light, evil and justice. There are so many murals, I don't think about it anymore.

Eagles rush to the stairs, get the gems, get out of here, and nothing else matters!

When the eagle held this thought and was about to climb the stairs, suddenly he felt a sense of crisis again, which forced him to immediately stop sharply and shoot a speeding gun at him.

Boo!

Almost flew over with the tip of the pen.

If the hawk hadn't stopped for half a step, it would have been pierced!

Though lucky enough to rub his shoulders with Death, the cloud hawk still feels fear, he didn't think and didn't notice, there are still sweepers in this place who haven't left... this time he can't hide!