Chapter 315 Fancy Things

Sometimes giving up does not mean failure, but knowing that it is a dead end and still going to the end recklessly does.

But some roads must be taken, even if it is a dead end, you must use all your strength to go backwards.

There has never been an enemy to fight against Lynch, because Nurgle demons have never been known for their strength on the frontal battlefield. The war has already begun, in every cell and every blood vessel.

All individuals have become a huge battlefield, with tens of thousands of soldiers guarding the body engaged in a brutal fight with countless invaders, and tens of thousands of tiny lives are lost every second.

Obviously, just a plague would not be able to help Lynch.

He has already suffered enough similar tests. What is a violent storm to a mortal is just a slight ripple to him.

The plague was more inconspicuous than the ripples when it first appeared, and coupled with its secretive nature that even the true gods failed to recognize, this fatherly work can be called a miracle.

A few more observations and more infected individuals are needed to confirm the widespread nature of the plague.

Epidimius continued to write on the original site of Dulong City, and was pushed into the gap between the Chaos Demon Realm and reality by Nurgling from time to time, using the detached state of semi-entering the Chaos Demon Realm to gain macroscopic observation.

It is a pity that the cursed dwarf blew up the plague-infected sample, otherwise Epidimius would now be able to roughly understand the mechanism of the plague.

Time is running out, and the "Plague Inspector" uses the wind of magic to spread the clouds containing the virus to distant places, hoping to obtain more observation samples.

It's all the fault of the stupid dwarves. If they hadn't gone crazy and blew up the city, Epidimius would have recorded a plague by now.

It has to stay in these ruins for a while, its mission is not yet completed.

It wasn't surprised at all when the anomaly exploded in its second sight.

It is always like this, it should be endlessly busy with important work, but mortals always want to disturb the great task.

A blazing heat swept over from the south, and something hot was approaching, like a warm host welcoming a close friend and hurrying towards a guest he hadn't seen for a long time.

Apparently, Epidemus has no friends in the real world, only countless enemies.

Trouble, very troublesome, it doesn't want to waste time fighting.

The "Plague Scribe" continued writing without stopping, and after writing another observation sample, he turned his attention to the uninvited disruptor.

It's strange that the other party has a similar essence to it, just like the spirit in the forest, but more pure.

Only then did Epidimius really take notice.

Only beings with the essence of Isil can pose a threat to demons. The powerful entity of Isil can even kill demons. It is not banishment, but real death.

Those who come have not yet reached that level, but the smallest ruler is far beyond the ordinary.

Mortals have countless false gods. These rulers, who are insignificant compared to the true gods, are fully qualified to call themselves gods in front of mortal believers.

Because they are indeed gods in a way, they are demigods.

A god who can be killed is not a true god. No matter what he is called by mortals, he is just a false god in front of the devil.

Because every high-level demon who has ever been born has been revered as a god by mortals. Stupid mortals don't understand the truth, but they know it all too well.

Epidimius looked solemnly towards the south and coughed violently.

Droplets overflowed from the demon's mouth, and an indescribable stench instantly infected the already mutated wind.

Lin Qi closed off his sense of smell, so when he found that even the glacier with horns was suddenly dying, he realized it.

Some spell had fallen, the devil was attacking him with magic.

Apart from the slight numbness of his scales, Lynch felt nothing else.

The plague has no effect. The opponent seems to have superb resistance, and his body is difficult to be broken by the virus.

This is nothing. The "Blight Liquidator" has seen countless equally tenacious individuals. They all eventually succumbed to the plague, were dominated by the germs that corroded their souls, and their tenacious wills hesitated in weakness.

It likes the most beautiful scene of a strong man wavering in the plague. It is the most beautiful scene in the world.

Epidimius panted violently, and turbid blood overflowed from its ulcerated mouth, infecting the white liquid snow.

Changes occurred in the dirty white rain. The falling juice caused the ground to grow spores. In the blink of an eye, the spores gave birth to majestic granules, which were covered with raised chicken pox.

The blazing heat on Lynch's body evaporated the rain that wanted to fall on him, and the snow around him was also purified from the heat.

The pox buds were ignited, and the juices exploded were evaporated in a matter of seconds. They had no effect at all.

This was a failed spellcasting. Maybe it could easily destroy the mortal army, but it did not accomplish anything.

It is the luminous individual that Epidimius wants to pollute.

It inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

The turbid fog overflowed from its mouth and enveloped the mountains in an instant.

The road disappeared, all references disappeared.

Vision is no longer reliable, the sense of smell has long been blocked, and hearing is useless amidst the noise of thick juice splashing on the ground.

But Lynch prefers to rely on hunting perception when hunting. His eyes and ears will deceive him, but his intuition will not.

He now even has the confidence to use his intuition to determine the correct answer to the Ancient Sage's riddle, skipping the complicated deduction process.

There was no slowness in his steps, not even a bit of hesitation, and he was approaching Epidimius in a straight line.

The corrosive nature of the mist seems to have disappeared. If all the undistorted rocks were not swallowed up by the mist, it would even think that it had misplaced the magic.

It can be sure that the target's soul has not been distorted by the spell, and even the body has not degenerated.

This isn't quite right.

Even the Sky Titan should lie down on the ground, the most powerful giant cannot use his physique to resist this spell.

Only then did the "Epidemic Recorder" notice the less shiny carapace behind the cold-blooded species. Compared with the glittering lizard man, it was so low-key that it didn't look like a masterpiece of the old gods.

Obviously, no matter how strange the ancient saint's creation is, it is extraordinary.

Within the armor's force field, the monstrous lizard-man appears to be a magical insulator.

If Carlos the "Destiny Weaver" noticed this intersection of fate, he would laugh the feathers off him.

It failed to penetrate the anti-magic force field of the old gods, let alone a Nurgle demon who was not good at magic?

It is true that compared to mortals, Nurgle demons can be regarded as top magic masters, but compared to the head of the ever-changing demon king, they are just babies learning to talk in front of adults.

A terrifying mutation rose in front of the dwarves, causing the dwarves and elves who were about to rush under the clouds and mist to stop.