Overlord: Start from the Goblin Lair

On top of the crimson carpet, under the silver-grey crescent moon, a lady with pale skin and a beautiful face held a scepter and looked down at the hounds. Black mist lingered around her, and the seats floated behind her.

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Whether it was atmosphere or power, at this moment, Sylvia even had a tendency to overshadow Gillianis.

Even the companions who are familiar with her, if they don't know her background, they will inevitably pay her the respect of a subordinate to a superior, not to mention the Ye Xis who are in front of her as servants. The hounds are gone.

These magical creatures turned their long necks and looked at each other with human-like faces, accompanied by low barks from time to time as a medium for exchanging opinions.

But a few seconds later, with a short cry from the hound leader, all the night neighing hounds gave up their struggle and bowed in front of Sylvia with all their hearts. The vampires only felt that the spiritual connection between themselves and these creatures was once again condensed. When it became real, what they thought, and even what they saw and heard were once again transmitted to her mind accurately.

"Oh, that's quite bluffing!" When Sylvia restrained the power that was not completely hers, Sera came up to her happily, and punched Sylvia lightly with her casserole-sized fists. Ya's shoulder almost knocked the vampire over, "Why don't you stay in that state?"

"If you act so strong all the time, these big dogs will definitely not dare to betray you!"

"You think I don't want to?" Sylvia smiled bitterly and covered the painful shoulder blade. "Don't you remember the experience we have told you in detail? In the final analysis, this power is a gift from a guy of unknown origin. I just took it away from that count by chance, and it was not my own power at all."

"Although I can control it as I want, every time I use it, I feel like I am missing something. Before I fully understand its ins and outs, I must use it as little as possible."

"So that's it, I really forgot about it!" The barbarian's eyes widened and he said quickly, "Then you'd better use less! I've heard that some tribes rely heavily on the power of priests or prophets, but these powers There is a curse! These tribes often end badly!"

The goblin hunter snorted: "I think you are actually envious of their tribes. After all, your ocher tribe is not qualified to be cursed..."

"Fart! We also have our own priests, okay? It's just that we use them very sparingly!" The barbarian retorted loudly, but what he got was Dreyfudou's curled lips and his words. Sera immediately carried Canglanzhi on her back. He held it, opened his arms and grabbed at the goblin, "You try to make that sound again?!"

"Okay, stop making trouble!" Ron had to step in to stop their troublemaking, "That guy ran away again, we have to catch him quickly!"

"There are so many things wrong with the Gibberellus and Spore Man here. He might know something - he might even be the mastermind!"

Anastrina helped pull Sera and Dryverdo away, and her expression was a little solemn: "Sir, what you said makes sense, those gibberellins obviously reproduced with purpose, and went straight to the vampire's former castle—— Otherwise, if the distance from here to the castle is used as the radius of their breeding range, the area covered would be too exaggerated!"

"It's a pity that this vampire is now a homeless man." Ron summoned the spell weaving preface and re-searched and sorted out the few remaining spells he had. "I couldn't stop him just now, and I'm afraid it will be difficult to catch him again. "

"Actually, it's not that difficult." Sylvia raised her head after hearing the words. She waved her hand, and the night neighing hounds quickly escaped into the ether. "He just managed to win over the night neighing hounds. It also makes them remember his scent.”

"Now that they have returned to our side, we can give them a chance to atone for their sins. What do you think, benefactor?"

"As long as you don't get deceived by that guy again..." Ivy muttered in a low voice.

"Even ordinary beasts can't even have such a long memory, let alone magical creatures." Ron waved to everyone to set off again, "Sylvia, let the hounds be divided into several groups, and one group should keep an eye on them. Our Lord Earl, the others will report and guide the route in batches!”

"Again and again, I can't say anything to make him run away a third time!"

Sylvia immediately issued more stringent orders to the night-neighing hounds. For her, Count Richthofen was not only an enemy, but more importantly, as long as this man who had had a "knowledge and friendship" with her was "Well" the vampire is immortal, her freedom, and the attached castles, territories, titles, etc. will never truly belong to her!

Therefore, this vampire must die!

Two days later, in the dense forest infected by Gibberella.

The ragged vampire count desperately accelerated again and again like a bereaved dog, trying to get rid of the shadowy pursuers behind him. He seemed to be close to success. From last night to today, no hound appeared within his range of perception.

However, when the count lowered his head and looked at the neat tooth marks on the edge of the palm of his left hand, the sense of crisis came to his heart again, driving him to continue running for his life.

The bite of the Nighthounds is accompanied by damage to the soul. These beasts will also use this to lock the location of the prey and hunt until the last bit of the fleeing flesh and blood is consumed. But as a senior spellcaster, Richthofen can also use this bite mark to reversely locate the position of the pursuers and avoid their pursuit.

This is already the hinterland of the expansion of the territory of the red mold. The cunningness of the Nighthounds is still not comparable to that of the vampire count who has lived for centuries. No matter how hard they try to show themselves, they still can't get close to the vampire again.

"Tomorrow at midnight, that's when I will completely get rid of them..." The vampire muttered to himself. The opponents are just some not-so-smart big dogs. His calculations cannot be wrong. He shuttled through the dense forest covered with red mold, carefully avoiding the spore people and thorn beasts that have become extremely powerful after mutation.

These creatures are not fatal to him, but they will delay his steps. It is better not to provoke them at this time.

The vampire's eyes were fixed on the unknown darkness ahead, where he and his wife had the adventure they saw when they first set foot in the Fusarium territory. It was also there that he and she left a special shelter that would not be infected by Fusarium as a laboratory.

As long as they reached that place...

A sinister and half-crazy hunched figure flashed through the vampire count's mind, and the nightmare-like shadow made the count shudder involuntarily while he was running.

As long as he gets there, the old guy can solve all his problems for him...

It has the ability to mutate all the fusarium in the entire area, and even affect the existence of the spore people and thorn beasts born from the fusarium. A group of country bumpkins can be killed with a snap of a finger--

The count thought, with his own little happiness, and plunged into the dense darkness of the fungi. The fusariums made way for him one after another. This feeling of being surrounded by people made Richthofen feel a little flattered, but he soon discovered that he seemed not to be the only one who enjoyed this privilege.

The blood-colored bat wings folded behind him, and the count stopped and stared at the jungle in front of him in doubt, where a long silver-white hair swayed in the wind with the surrounding red fungi.

The person who came was tall and slender, with long and pointed ears extending horizontally. Her blue-green dress with gold inlay formed a clear arc on her chest. These signs all indicated that she should be a female elf.

Two loops of string hung at her ears, pulling up a light-colored ball mask decorated with gold, silver and feathers, which only covered the eyes, nose and upper cheeks. Such delicate decorations were out of tune with the wild environment here, making this elf look like a noble lady who was going to a party but accidentally got lost here.

But Count Richthofen took a few steps back with three parts of surprise and seven parts of fear.

The howl of the night hound came faintly from the teeth marks on his hand, but he didn't care about it anymore. The existence in front of him was dozens or even hundreds of times stronger than the night hound!

And what was more deadly than this was that the count stared at the mask, and under the mask, there was a pair of lake blue eyes!

Oops, I forgot to post it QAQ