Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

"Just tonight, right?"

The young child asked her mother.

A tiny sparkle reflected in her small maroon pupils. Her mother just nodded slightly and hugged her tighter. At the same time, she signaled the child to stop making any noise.

Their heads were pressed together, huddled under the windows, looking at the street outside the window from the edges of the wooden boards that sealed the windows.

Outside the house, several men stood side by side. They stared at the sky, and the bright moonlight was gradually obscured by a group of dark clouds.

The horizon in the distance gradually became blurred, and there, an invisible black mist exuding a gloomy green light was coming at an extremely fast speed. They could almost smell the stench of those things - for raw

Desire collided with his responsibilities as a father and husband, and in the end, the latter prevailed.

"Are we going to die?"

one of them asked.

His answer was answered. A man holding a pistol leaned on the stacked heavy crates and said with a smile: "Not necessarily, Halk. Maybe those bastards think your meat is smelly, so they won't."

eat you."

"Fuck you."

The man named Halker cursed, and the joke between the two caused a burst of laughter.

The fear was diluted, and they clenched the weapons in their hands, not knowing how long they could resist. These people were not pirates or gangsters, they were just a group of ordinary stevedores. They usually made a living by selling some coolies on the dock.

Otherwise, they would not still be in such a place until now - they have no money to leave by boat, they have not joined any gangs, and they are not allowed to take their families to the refuge points prepared by the gangs.

Halke turned his head and looked at his home. His wife's profile was looming in front of the wooden-slatted window, watching him from the gap. He raised his hand, signaling her to hide. But the woman stubbornly shook her head.

She nodded her head. This made Halke laugh. She has always been so stubborn since he knew her.

"Okay, you crazy bitch," he muttered. "At least I sealed the doors and windows, oh damn it."

The young child asked her mother again: "Why don't Uncle Halker and Daddy come in?"

"Stop talking, Yada," her mother replied softly. "Close your eyes, okay? Take a nap and you'll be fine until tomorrow morning."

"But I can't sleep, Mom."

The child said in confusion: "And you are shaking. Are you scared?"

The mother turned away and hummed an ancient lullaby in a trembling voice, preventing the child from seeing the tears in her eyes. Her soft voice continued for a while, and the child stopped asking questions.

She liked this song very much, and it was perhaps the only thing she really had in her childhood when she didn't have many happy memories. When she was unhappy, her mother would sing this song, and when she was about to fall asleep, her mother would sing it too.

Black mist swept in from far away from the sea level. This is the lowest level of Bilgewater, where only the poor live. It is also the first stop for the undead to land.

Halke clenched the sword in his hand. He had never used this thing before. He had only seen others wield it. The gangster used such a thing to kill three people at once. He was almost scared to death when he watched.

He doesn't know if he can do the same thing... he just hopes his wife can live longer.

At least longer than him.

"Get ready, brothers." The man who was joking with him leaned against the crate with a pale face. His posture when holding the gun was very amateurish. "The black fog is coming."

He told the truth.

The black mist had already arrived in front of them. One second, it was still beside the rocks and waves, and the next second, it had already stepped onto the streets below.

The mother closed her eyes, but the child seemed to have seen something interesting and shouted happily: "Mom! Mom! Look! There is a person standing in front of the fog! What is he going to do?"

She looked in surprise, only to find that exactly as she said, there was indeed a person standing there.

A tall and thin figure stood in front of the black mist. No one knew when he appeared. He just stood there until the black mist completely swallowed him up.

Then, golden flames burst out from it.

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He Shenyan stood calmly in the black mist, with the wails of the undead constantly coming to his ears.

There seemed to be another world entirely in the black mist, and the street scene disappeared. It was replaced by a wasteland with no living creatures. The sky was dilapidated, like a rusted canvas, and the disgusting colors were disgusting.

He wasn't much surprised.

A pale skeletal hand rose from the ground beneath his feet, and a pale green light radiated from the soil.

"interesting."

The Master commented like this.

The movement of the undead with rotting flesh and blood hanging between its ribs was frozen as it crawled out of the soil, and it remained frozen in place as it crawled out.

The pale green light in its eye sockets faded and it stopped moving. The curse that allowed it to remain active after death was lifted, and a broken light point flew out from its skull, gradually rising into the sky and disappearing.

"I originally thought it was a necromancy spell, but I didn't expect it to be a curse... No, it was a reversed blessing."

He Shenyan muttered to himself, stretched out his hand and pointed in the distance, and golden flames began to ignite out of thin air at the other end of the wasteland. The squirming black mist was cleared by the sudden burst of flames, and a huge gap was cleared. The surrounding area suddenly became quiet.

, the voices of the undead disappeared. A tall shadow rolled out of the black mist in a panic.

Its upper body is that of a knight in armor, without a helmet, and where the head should have been is now a naked and ferocious skeleton. The mutated skull has a longer lower jaw, as if it is screaming loudly.

The upper body can barely be said to be somewhat humanoid, but the lower body is weirdly twisted into a dead iron horse, burning with blazing spiritual fire.

This twisted creature, whose soul was filled with rage and malice, trembled and slowly knelt down on the ground, and the halberd in its hand fell to the soil with a clang.

"Killing the weak makes you feel happy, right?"

The mage put his hands behind his back and didn't even look at it. He just talked to himself quietly, and the alien knight couldn't answer at all - the golden flames were burning its bones and soul, even in order to let it feel more

After suffering for a long time, the mage deliberately reduced the power of the flame to one percent of its original value.

However, even if it is one percent, something like it cannot bear it.

Its armor continued to melt and deform in the burning flames, sounding like the dying cry of a dying person. The mage wandered to it, losing the leadership of this general, and the rest of the undead stopped reviving themselves.

Either stay under the soil and stop moving, or stay sluggishly in the black mist.

He Shenyan stretched out his hand and took off its head. His hands were cold, and the curse that made up its soul was trying its best to resist the burning of the flames. Ice-blue spiritual fire spurted out from the eye sockets, almost turning into liquid, slowly

It flowed onto the face of the skeleton, like two traces of tears.

He Shenyan held it up and suddenly showed a smile: "This seems to be a very suitable time to say this... Okay."

He shrugged: "Then let's pay tribute."

Two dots of golden light rose from his eyes until they ignited the opposite eyes and turned into two burning stars. The undead inevitably looked at him and heard his calm voice: "Look at

my eyes......"

In those two golden flames, he saw his whole life.

His country...Joined the army, gained a high position, and led the legion - the Iron Legion.

Every detail was so vivid and vivid in his mind. This actually made him feel more painful. He remembered every scene that flashed before his eyes - but that was exactly what he wanted to get rid of.

He was young. He had just joined the army. On the surface, he looked talented, but in fact, the evil thoughts in his heart had gradually begun to expand.

He deliberately refused to rescue the commander. He let him die so that he could take power and take the entire legion into his hands so that he could carry out his crazy plan.

With a sword in his hand, he arbitrarily slaughtered the innocent people he was sworn to protect.

...Blessed Island, Calista who was pierced by herself in the back, the crazy young king. He saw that he ignored the black mist that swept in, just laughed wildly and slaughtered those unarmed people. Feeling

Their blood spurted out from their fragile bodies, enjoying this moment of bloody pleasure.

Then, the black mist swallowed him up. He turned into an alien undead and was firmly tied to his horse. Every year, he would return from the world of the dead to continue his only wish in life.

massacre.

The flashback of the scene disappeared.

The last thing he saw were two golden lights.

He Shenyan casually threw down the cracked skull in his hand. It was so fragile that it couldn't bear even this collision. It was completely broken as soon as it touched the ground. Pale white bone fragments were scattered on the ground. For a person who was alive

For a madman who has committed many crimes, his ending is still too good.

The scene around him was changing rapidly. The sky in the wasteland quickly transformed into something more terrifying. The rusted canvas gradually turned into a chaotic storm with no logic at all. It was like vomited by a drunken madman.

The stuff is so ordinary and looks extremely disgusting.

"Pretend to be a ghost."

He Shenyan sneered. The world inside the black mist was made up of curses. It looked solid, but in fact it was pitifully fragile.

Just like the skull of the undead, its skull cannot even withstand a simple collision after losing the support of the curse. For him, the world in the black mist does not even need a collision.

A simple wave of the hand can destroy this place, but not yet.

He turned around, and as his figure gradually faded, the existence of the mage himself was disappearing little by little. Even the fact that he himself had been here and killed an undead named Hecarim was gradually disappearing.