The Godsfall Chronicles

Cloudhawk is not sleeping well.

He dreamt of going back to the tunnels of hell.

Around us are human limb broken arms, bloody bodies are creeping, tragically dead pickers stand up one by one, some face corroded by acid, some stone hammer smashed half of the head, some cut off half the body, fatal demons slowly gather together.

No, no, no!

No, no, no!

The cloudhawk ran wildly like stepping on glue, and the thick plasma seemed to stick him.

At this time, a deserter with a short sword walked in a very strange position, his right leg was broken, there was a terrible wound on his neck, his head hung halfway around his neck, and his eyes filled with sinister resentment: “Why not save me! ”

The sound is more powerful than the ghosts of hell, and the scavengers are about to cut it off.

The cloud eagle barn flank dodged the moment.

Suddenly, a gun fired from more than one place penetrated my chest!

The attacker was a seemingly insignificant mutant, with his orbit pierced and half his eyeballs hanging on his face, revealing a frightening smile.

The cloud eagle fell to the ground and couldn't move, and the spring water kept bleeding, and the blood bled out, and the method also took the power away.

Wastepickers and sweepers disappeared.

At this time, a fat white man and a strong black man walked in with a mercenary saying he had a laugh, but didn't seem to see a struggling teenager dying on the ground.

The eagle reached out and shouted, "Help me! ”

The eyes of both of them were full of disdain: "Crap! ”

The mercenary spit as if he had stepped on a piece of shit on the road.

As the eagle lay powerless and his eyes gradually emptied, he could clearly feel his body getting colder and colder and what he was eager to grab, but his will continued to fall, a feeling of immense fear and despair.

His body is completely cold.

His body started to rot and stink.

His body was occupied by countless maggots.

His body turned into a big meal for rats.

Until the cloud eagle became a dead bone, and the will did not disappear completely, wrapped in endless despair and sorrow, falling into eternal darkness, deeper and deeper and deeper, forever.

Knock!

Knock!

A sound was felt in the chaos of the clouds and eagles, as if ice water had poured over them and they were awakened instantly from the dreams of terror.

Cold sweat!

That lowly, humble death, that eternal despair of darkness, that unbearable sorrow, makes his heart palpitate... what a terrible dream!

Now, before dawn, the thick darkness seemed to condense, and the entire camp was sealed tightly, and there was a breathless sense of asphyxiation under this repression.

Knock!

It's ringing again.

This slightly indescribable sound is like a needle stabbing a nerve. The cloud hawk was just woken up by this sound, and at this moment there is another kind of sweat all over the place.

It's a feeling of crisis!

The cabin door is sewn into something that glitters in the dark with the characteristic icy glow of metal - this is a thin blade!

The blade slipped a little silently and silently along the door, stuck on the door bolt, and it paused slightly for a second or two, pulling the bolt apart a little bit.

Mercenaries? Impossible!

At this hour, in this place, why open the door this way?

The cloudhawk felt his heart pounding straight up, holding the short sword beside the bed, the nightmare waking him up, his hands were sweaty, he hid the short sword under him, and his body curled slightly

Breathe deeply, stay relaxed, and keep your muscles tight, allowing yourself to move in a state of readiness.

Late night visitors were proficient in their movements, the small blades easily unloaded the bolts, and the whole process did not sound too loud. The door was pushed open a little bit, but didn't walk right in.

This is an experienced hunter!

This must be the moment to observe what's going on in there!

The eagle cannot reveal any blemishes, so lay still on the bed and keep your breathing even, as if you were not awake.

After four or five seconds of silence.

A knife sticks into the door and opens the wooden door.

Outside the moonlight spilled in, the late night visitor's body contour was tall, his hair was messy, his left fingernail was clamped with a blade, his right hand held a long machete, the blade seemed to be stained with large dark red plaques, a slight bloody smell was emitting, the sharp blade refracted the cold light, with death and dangerous smells.

Come and kill me!

The cloud hawk brain is a mess, fear, fear, anger, more confusion and confusion, dammit, who the hell is this? Who would have chosen to kill me at a time like this if I had stayed in the camp on my first day?

The Eagle's acute instincts are already aware of the dangers of late-night visitors, and if it's hard to win, he has to seize the opportunity to slip away.

Five meters, four meters, three meters...

Late at night, visitors' feet like cats did not have a sound, steady right arm held up slowly, the blade climbed through the night, the whole process did not emit even a little kill, as if there was not one person under the blade but a puppet.

Boo!

The eagle rolls over instantly, making the blade sweep past the face, and the heavy knife is embedded in the bed, if it's half a second slower, it's chopped off!

With your feet against the wall, the power erupts!

The cloudhawk jumped like a spring and the late night visitor didn't even hesitate for half a second. He gave up his long knife very resolutely. The cloudhawk was waiting for a sword to be dodged by the other party with extraordinary flexibility. Almost at the same time, the blade flashed through the left finger seam.

Come on, come on!

Too soon!

It's a very old-fashioned hunter and killer.

No matter how fast, powerful, skilled, reactive, combat experience, psychological qualities, they are not made after a long period of grinding, how can a rubble be obtained by picking up garbage and growing half a hanger? From the moment the puncture hits the sky, the eagle knows it's over.

A cold light pressed his throat.

No fancy moves, no extra moves, fast and hateful, incredibly precise, sharp blades enough to cut the flesh easily, yet cut the aorta like a slice of noodle.

Eagleton fell into the ice cave!

Though faced with death many times, it all happened in extreme panic, never so sober as this moment, and there was nothing that could be done to truly feel death come a little.

It was easy to get rid of the waste-picker status, to get out of the ruins, not to become stronger, not to be free, not to dominate one's destiny. Do you want to die here in humility and despair, as you just dreamed?

No, no, no!

Don't die!

No, I don't want to!

The eagle roared like a dead beast, filled with wild unwillingness and anger. When the desire for life erupted, it resonated with something in its arms. Immediately a fiery force and mad will poured into its body, as if there was an invisible force to push the eagle.

He avoided the blade with incredible agility and was only slightly cut through the skin, causing minor blood marks.

Late night visitors were stunned.

How can a change in prey be judged by two people?

A calm and experienced hunter, however, whose mind and body are completely separated, the blade does not pause at all and seems to be given life in his hands, as if flipping butterflies in cold nights is dancing dangerous and beautiful trajectories.

No matter how agile the prey is, it's still a weak prey!

Several attempts revealed each other's strength, a level that he did not see in his eyes, and the hunter decided to cut his neck directly with the next knife. This is what the hunter thinks, as he moves faster and faster, the sharp rays kiss the teenager's neck.

Pfft!

Sounds clear.

The butterfly-dancing knife-light system disappeared.

A hand with a velocity force totally inconsistent with its shape, stretched out like lightning to snap the hunter's wrist, like a clamp of iron, unable to move, there was no way to pull it back from a thin hand.

“You want to kill me? ”

Juvenile blood pupils, like the devil's eyes, are completely filled with madness, unable to find anything called reason!

Late night visitors began to fear, not a weak teenager, but a mad beast!

“You tried to kill me! ”

The teenager went from a questionable phrase to an angry narrative exclamation, a very clear face that was already full of flashes, suddenly hard, clicked, and pinched each other's wrists with his bare hands.

Late night visitors scream terribly for less than half a second.

While the eagle crushed each other's wrists, the short sword stabbed out dozens of times faster and dozens of times crazier, and the blade broke through the skin piercing the muscles and pierced the lungs, as if the cold ice had been stuffed into the body, making the whole body freeze.

Pull in and out.

Throughout a beating organ.

This time it was not only blood, but also the chance and power of the hunter. The cloud eagle was sprayed with blood, one face, warm and smelly. Instead of feeling disgusted and scared, it provoked deeper anger. A crazy thought poured into my mind like a flood!

Kill him!

Kill him!

Kill him!

This is not a very good short sword. Finally, during the fifth assassination process, it was difficult to withstand the madness and power of the master, and eventually the crisp sound broke in each other's body.

The handle fell to the ground.

The cloud eagle's hot body seems to have a fire burning. It also seems to suppress the volcano for tens of millions of years, but it cannot be released. The mind is full of desire to kill and destroy! He can't suppress the fanatical impulse in his heart. He's like a growl. He wants to yell, he wants to smash everything to pieces!

What's wrong with me?

What the hell is going on?

Found himself on the verge of madness, the last bit of sobriety and reason, he took the rock out of his arms and threw it aside. When the rock left his body, the cloud eagle quickly returned to normal.

This rock is really weird!

A cloud hawk can probably feel that the stone seems to be attached to an ancient mind or spirit, which is most likely the former owner of the gemstone, which leaves some of its own will or spirit or other energy in it by some means that a cloud hawk cannot understand or imagine, precisely because such a gemstone can have a great impact on a cloud hawk under certain circumstances.

That was last night.

That's what happened back there.

Once again, this flat stone returns to its simplicity and remains flat without surprise. The cloudhawk picked up the stone and tried several times not knowing how to use it.

Where the hell did it come from?

What the hell is it?

What kind of man left that brutal, terrible, powerful will behind?

This stone is absolutely unusual, and may still work at a critical moment, when the eagle decides to put it away and nobody knows about it.