The Godsfall Chronicles

It's a tree.

Precisely a big tree, like a mountain tree.

The great tree has been dead for many years. Though a dozen people have lost their livelihood, it still stands tall and dries through the wind into a rocky solid substance. The giant tree crown does not have a single leaf. It looks like the demon has upside-down hair. At first glance, it looks a little stubborn and shady.

The peculiar shape of the great tree is not attractive at all. The large tree hangs a lot of things that do not belong to it, which has to be taken into account, because these hangings are nothing else, and they are literally dozens of corpses that have been air-dried. Their whole bodies are stuck with spikes, and they are hanging between the trees, swinging slightly in the wind, like the big tree grows fruit, making people feel weird.

Some of them have been albinoidal for more than three years, while others have been weathered into dry bodies, indicating that the time of death is not too long.

It's no surprise.

The presence of dead people in this place is so weird that people have to be vigilant.

Cloud eagles are cautiously close, each dry body wearing clothes, exactly like cloud eagles. Are these unlucky guys members of previous special training? What exactly are they killed by? If it's a beast, it doesn't make sense to hang them collectively on a tree, and the tree just looks odd, it's just a dead tree, and it's not threatening or aggressive.

The eagle seemed to think of something. He felt that it was not appropriate to stay here for long. As he was about to turn around and retreat, he felt a sharp touch and felt that there was an indistinguishable filament in the naked eye that had been accidentally tripped and broken by his right leg.

Trapped?!

Suddenly, the feeling of danger sprang to my mind.

There are dozens of spikes emanating from the dense numbness in the rough bark crevices of the tree.

Each spike is fast to the extreme, and the spike tip is obviously heavily poisoned. Although these poisons may not necessarily poison the eagle, being stabbed as a porcupine will not be a pleasant experience at all.

The cloudhawk was defenceless and unable to launch a monstrous stone. Although it made the quickest evasion speed, the venom spilled like water. The cloudhawk was able to evade most of them, but could not avoid all the attacks. Three or two hit him.

However, the cloud eagle has now become unprecedented, poisoning the body for a moment, immediately controlling local muscle tightness, allowing the spike to embed itself in the superficial flesh, and there is no way to cause deeper damage. The application of toxins just diffused to function, but also immediately activated a strong reaction from the intruder, with two fine substances and life rapidly forming a battlefield in the body.

Circles around the cloud eagle wound turn purple and black.

This appears to be a highly toxic seizure effect, but it is the invader who focuses heavily on resisting toxins in a small range of manifestations, with only a small range of effects, and the cloudhawk does not look at it at all as long as it ensures that the toxins do not cause Shanghai to vital organs and brains.

The Eagle hasn't adjusted its status yet.

The woods jumped several dwarf shadows in a row.

The cloud eagle first heard the sighing strange noise in the mouth of these guys, only to see that everyone was painted with grey black paint, very vividly in the chest ribs to paint the skeleton shape, so it felt like a group of running skeletons, the little guy was holding a long wooden gun bone knife stone axe and other weapons, all racing towards the cloud eagle.

Wildlings? There are wildlings in this forest!

The cloud eagle wanted to greet the whole Scar family. He thought it was just a race. At most, several wilderness mutants were encountered in the forest. But who knew this would happen? I'm afraid this intelligent racial trap is already full of forests, but the instructor has no hint.

When a bunch of ignorant, inexperienced people walk into a forest full of traps and ambushes everywhere, the consequences can be imagined!

Of course, the little one is not a normal wilderness man, but should be called a sweeper, a mutant human being in the wilderness. But this sweeper tribe has obviously formed a stable form, so all tribal warriors are the same size, and like some sweepers in the wilderness, the mutants are strange and live like a bunch of traveling deformity shows and monster shows.

Dead Wood Little Adult Warrior is only a meter and a half tall, and although his head is very short, in exchange for his agile talent, everyone moves like a wind in Dead Wood Forest. They are obviously intelligent, as can be seen from setting traps, but that's why they make the wrong decisions.

These mutants discover trap pricks in their prey and naturally assume that they have lost their fighting power. One rushes up like crazy, and they all want to be the first to stab humans in the divine domain to gain battle power. Who knows that cloudhawks aren't losing their fighting power at all, and they're not even very affected.

“Go!”

The cloud eagle shook its shoulders.

Weird birds circle in the sky and begin to monitor the surrounding conditions. If a large number of wilderness natives or other enemies are discovered, the cloud eagle will be alerted for the first time.

“Ahhhhhh! ”

An Aboriginal sweeper shouted a sharp wooden spear and stabbed a cloud eagle. If it were a normal human being, the eagle would probably be merciful, but I'm very sorry that the eagle had no feelings for this mutant, either before or now.

The sweeper, Native, felt empty in his hand. First, he stunned. When he reacted, he found that the wooden spear had been instantly pulled away, and he didn't even see the eagle movement very clearly.

“Give it back! ”

When the wooden spear was sent back, it penetrated directly through the indigenous chest, penetrated through the back, and hit the second indigenous, equally transverse, inserted into the body and nailed onto the tree.

The cloudhawk dodged another attack, punched in the face of the indigenous people, simply fell into a fractured bone, the fierce burst of hunting ground smashed the entire cheek bone by seventy percent, the sharp mouth also turned into debris to throw out, and then slammed on the chest of the other indigenous people, breaking all the ribs into organs, and when flying high, the blood erupted like fireworks envy.

Why is this guy still so violent when he's been stabbed?

In fact, don't say these natives, the cloud eagle himself is surprised, he knows that this period has been improving since Sky Cloud City, and the Hunter Forge has not practiced 30 moves in action.

After all, the cloud eagle encountered perverts such as North Chenxi and winter snowfall. Even after practicing all 36 moves, he could not fight. Now he finds out that, in terms of pure power, it is not bad for the mad dog at the time, even a little stronger!

Unlike mad dogs, the Yellow Springs mercenary mad dogs are only strong, the speed, reaction, resilience and control of the clouds and eagles are fairly balanced in all aspects, so in the past six months alone, the clouds and eagles have become a master over the original Yellow Springs mercenary captain from a humble desert picker.

Of course, the cloud eagle grows too fast and lacks skilled experience. Even with the same amount of strength, the mad dog battle experience has been grinding out in the wilderness for more than a dozen or two decades. He knows very well how to use one power, so he can often explode twelve points of power, and the cloud eagle can play seven or eight points because of lack of actual battle and use.

Even so.

Nor can a cloud hawk be fought by ordinary indigenous people.

Now that there is a sweeper ambush here, it means that there must be a sweeper's colony nearby, and cloudhawks don't want to send a few live messages back, which can only cause endless trouble.

The cloudhawk picked up a missing bone blade, rushed fast, and the knife flashed, letting several heads fly high.

The indigenous panic woke up, before they could retreat, all falling beneath the blade.

The cloud eagle was ready to continue its search for a target, and a guy who was distinctly different from the rest of the indigenous people jumped out, wearing a more sophisticated leather coat, holding a sophisticated revolver in each hand, and when the man jumped out and was still half-empty, both guns fired simultaneously.

The cloud eagle's pupils contracted violently and the bullet trajectory reflected in it.

From the point where the bullet was fired out of the gun, to the point where it was halfway across the steep trail, the whole thing opened up as if it had created a long trajectory while wearing water. You can actually see the motion trajectory of a bullet, which was previously unimaginable to a cloud hawk!

Cloud eagles have never seen bullet trajectories before.

Now it's not only clear that if experience were a little older and his knife a little faster, he would be able to block the weapon directly with a blade.

The cloud hawk doesn't dare yet, and he still avoids shooting by shifting in unpredictable misalignments. However, it is clear that the indigenous is an expert in gunshooting, and that his bullets have fully extrapolated the most likely evasive behavior of a cloud eagle during the shooting process, so that he was directly sealed with bullets, making him completely inescapable.

The cloud hawk's brain spins faster than the other party's, first judging the direction the other party is preparing to lock down, and the shooting points of the bullets in the electroluminescent flint are all covered in the upper body, thus making a behavior other than a routine evasive action.

He lowered his waist directly behind him, all several bullets rubbing past his chest chin, and the eagle's hands had been held on the ground, pulling hard to complete a backward flip motion, instantly bursting with strength, sending the eagle to a large tree five or six meters away.

The eagle used the big tree contact as a leverage point, quickly bending knee cushioning force and accumulating new power, bouncing back like an arrow to the master gunsmith.

This evasive and counter-attack was a blatant move, and the Aboriginal obviously didn't expect this guy to be so powerful, but he was also very fierce and in a hurry shot again in a row. After dodging several deadly bullets, the eagle was finally hit by one bullet, but still produced strong toughness by controlling the local muscles, which had no way to shoot through the muscles, only causing skin trauma.

Indigenous marksmanship masters finally show their expressions of fear.

He now realizes that this opponent is more than just a man of strength; he is quite strong in all aspects, and it is too late to find out.

The blade was ruthlessly cut from head to head, turning the indigenous people directly into two pieces.

The cloud eagle stood steady and his expression didn't change much. He endured a few excavations in his chest wound and threw a bloodstained warhead out onto the ground. The injury was irrelevant and had no effect. The Eagles simply examine the indigenous situation, and these sweepers are very interesting to mutate, and they have toxic glands in their mouths and arms, meaning they are poisoned to bite or catch them.

Bring your own natural poison, no wonder the trap is full of thorns.

The cloud hawk looked around, but when he stood up from the ground, he stared in one direction. Instead of loosening his face, he became more serious, as if the battle had just begun.

“Don't hide!” The cloud eagle sounds so cold: “I've found you, come out! ”