Chapter 49—The riots

    The lich left his hiding place, but he did not want to let Ilva find him.

    The undead who used to estimate is that after fifteen, it is the time for them to exchange, let the sweet idiot face this female elf— - Don't forget, Fenway is dead or worse than dead. He didn't like it, and he didn't know how to comfort others. He was more accustomed to kicking his unlucky ass—and then looked at them with joy and joy in the mud of despair and pain.

    15, he countlessly, fourteen, thirteen, twelve...

     ;nine.

    eight.

    ......

    Ill see the black hair caster, her smile deepens, Turn your shoulders slightly, as if you were coming to him.

    Three.

    2.

    The soul of the outside world opened his eyes and watched the outside with the lich. They saw an axe, flashing silver, and swiftly spinning out. Symbolizes the whistle of death.

    One.

    The axe blade with a gap smashed Il's neck, her head rolled down and fell into the burning ashes.

    The lich heard a sharp scream.

    What is the yelling, it is so frightening, and so sad.

    The lich has listened to this voice countless times - from his sacrifices, experimental materials, and enemies, their friends, and loved ones - - Like the heart that was cut in half, and it was like being dug out of the eyes, but he never thought that he would make such a tragic shout like a weak person.

    No, not him, it is Kremar, the stupid and innocent thief - the undead will not be sad, will not be jealous, will not lose reason.

    What is the use of yelling?

    Death is irreparable.

    ***

    The giant who killed Ilva blinked in confusion He suddenly found that his leather bags and knees were getting heavier and heavier. They were too heavy, like turning into iron and stones, dragging his body down, and he tried to pull up his legs. It was discovered that even his two arms were hanging down involuntarily. His axe was not far from him, but he could not lift his arm. Finally, his shoulders and head could not help but lean forward. The chin was tightly attached to the chest, and the upper jaw pressed the tongue so that he could only make a squeaky scream.

     An invisible machete cuts his artery, and the dirty blood squirts out and falls into a burning bush. The smell of nausea.

    ***

    The elves are horrified and sad.

    Nobody ever thought that - Ilva had been a Ranger for forty years, she fought with the Goblin, fought the Ogre, fought the Orcs, and humans. The thieves fought, and the gray robe and the red robe, and of course the giants fought - she could not guarantee that she would be safe every time, she was injured more than once, several times almost fatal, but she can always recover, whether it is the body Still the spirit, the worst result they can expect is another serious injury and rest that takes a long time.

    The manager of the Grey Ridge walked over and the chest hurt like a crack. Ilva’s head was held in her arms by Kremar. She was so serene, she could not find a twist and anger on her pale face. The slightly opened eyes were like the purest emeralds and sapphires, as if still there. A faint smile, her hair is cut off along with the neck, and the rest of the hair is scattered. Under the light of morning light and fire, they are like flowing gold.

     Her body is on the other side, her hands crossed over her chest, and her sword is pressed under her arm.

    What the manager wants to say, but he finds that he can't make a sound at all.

    Cremar does not know how he let go of Il---he only remembers that he bowed his head and kissed her cold forehead, someone Talk to him, but he didn't hear very well. He didn't know what to do - he felt unable to breathe, and the flame seemed to have taken all the air.

    until he heard the name of Fenway.

    Fenway is still alive, because he is a passage, a bridge, the fire of negative energy only takes part in his vitality, even then, his tongue, internal organs, The bones are still shrinking, the skin turns into powder, and the eyes and ears have lost their effect, but he is still alive.

    Kreima went to him, kneeling down, he didn't touch Fenway, but he was able to keep in touch with him.

    ——Ill? Fenway asked, or said, his residual consciousness.

    The lich waited quietly.

    ——Ill dying, the soul of the opposite world said, listening to this sad man spitting out the last choking breath from his throat, then he walked away.

    ——I thought you would lie, the Lich said, let the deceased get the last bit of comfort.

    ——I don’t think so, the soul of the opposite world says that even if he is still a virtual body, the lich can still see that he is almost overflowing. Hate and sorrow, they are hidden under the calm surface, like the undercurrent under the sea—Il妲 died because of him. How can he get the privilege of leaving the world safely?

    ——Then we reached an agreement, the former undead said.

    ***

    The author has something to say: I know this chapter is a bit short, the problem is to finish writing After the death of Ilva... I suddenly didn't want to let anyone else disturb her sleep.

    Kiss you, Ill, goodbye.