Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

The once bustling slaughterhouse is now deserted - no, maybe that shouldn't be said.

There are no people, but there are many undead.

A burst of icy mist swept over the rolling sea, and the millions of undead in it were crowded together, their ribs touching their ribs, letting out dull wails. These beings with endless resentment towards the living revealed their claws

, crashed into a group of ships docked in the port, and easily tore everything apart.

A Freljordian carrying two axes and wearing a horned helmet stood behind the defense line and watched them.

He saw a ghost flying into a ship docked on the shore, sinking into the hull, and flying out with the keel of the ship a few seconds later. More ghosts pounced on it, and the ship's deck was in several places.

It was frozen into an ice sculpture in the space of a heartbeat, and then slowly sank, making no more noise.

Olaf didn't expect that his luck would be so good - not to mention running into the soul-eating night that the locals often say, he actually happened to be holding an ax in his hand. Isn't this the glorious death he always wanted?

His thinking was interrupted.

A sailor with strong arms came to him, holding a sharp saber in his hand and a repeating pistol at his waist.

He looked at Olaf and said in a brave tone that was obviously fake: "They are not that scary."

The Freljordian glanced at him and made no comment. It's true that he doesn't like to use his brain very much, and it's true that he has always been looking for people to fight and die in his life - but that doesn't mean that he is a fool.

Not so scary? Cannons may not be able to destroy a ship so quickly in such a short period of time. If they are all that kind of ghost, then he may have to change his plan to fight a powerful opponent.

Of course, that's good, provided you can hit it.

"Hey, why don't you say a few words, Berserker?" The sailor was still trying to talk to him, and Olaf knew the reason why he did this.

Direwolves will also talk to the alpha wolf when facing a strong enemy, trying to gain some courage from it. The sailor's current behavior is no different from them. However, he is not a direwolf, and this sailor is not worthy to be compared with them.

Olaf didn't want to give him courage.

"You were so scared that you fell to the ground, and you pretended to be completely unafraid and said they weren't scary at all?"

Olaf sneered: "It's better to think about how to survive first, sailor."

Ignoring the other person's flushed face, he continued to look forward, and the black mist rolled in, and it was in front of him in a moment. Some locals were immediately grabbed by the undead among them with arms like rotten wood, like

Sinking into the sea, there is no more sound.

A familiar rage began to crawl up his back, and an undead seemed to regard him as one of those warm-blooded people. It stretched out its claws and desperately tried to grab Olaf in. What it got was two handfuls.

The fatal swing of the axe.

Hit.

Olaf was overjoyed, and his fury was even diluted a bit - Ornn is on top! They are not immune to the ultimate ice! The undead he slashed melted like bubbles.

"For Lockefa!"

He shouted the name of his hometown and worked hard. Not only did he not escape the terrible fog, he even rushed in. The thick black fog immediately enveloped him, and the miserable green light boiled in it. The wails of the undead were even more intense.

He was reminded every moment that he had entered the realm of death.

so what?!

Olaf threw the ax in his hand with a grin. His skill was impeccable. The ax cut through a fatal arc and landed among a group of entangled undead. The ice glowed faintly, and the ice storm broke out in an instant.

This small gathering of the undead was destroyed in a short time.

However, this is not over yet.

He raised his only remaining ax and strode in that direction. He didn't even bother to lower his head and bend down to avoid it. The ghosts and monsters along the way, those deep nightmares that surpassed human imagination, stretched out their skinny claws to eat hungrily.

Scratching at his exposed skin, leaving bleeding marks on his arms and thighs.

"Is that all?"

Olaf bit the flesh of his cheek, and blood gurgled out. The pain further stimulated his fury. He ran to the place where his ax fell and picked it up. Then he waved his hands wildly like a madman.

Ax, the ghosts and monsters seen along the way died one after another. Whether they were disembodied ghosts or skeletons.

——They all have to die! These things all have to die, even if they have already died once, it doesn’t matter!

----------------------------------------

The streets of Bilgewater are almost abandoned.

The bells rang from the top of the lighthouse on the edge of the coastline, monotonous and still ringing. The wails full of fear echoed down the mountain. The entire Bilgewater was completely immersed in black fog, and the wind howled on the ruins. The flames followed the Butcher's Road.

The bridge was burning all the way. It was an almost apocalyptic scene.

People in the uptown area hid in their ornately decorated homes, praying to Nagakapoulos, hoping that she would bless them to spend the Soul-eating Night safely. They didn’t know that Nagakapoulos’ blessing would only be given to those who

A man with a heart of steel.

But they still have a place to stay, and the people in Xiacheng District are not so lucky.

Sarah Doom pursed her lips tightly, almost forming a line. It was a waste of money. Her full lips should always have a mysterious smile. However, no one would at this moment.

Go and say something to her.

She is currently staying with her men at a famous 'attraction' - Pickpocket Square.

This was a very prosperous market in the past. People set up various stalls on the adjacent boat ramps. Butchers, wine sellers, pirates, bounty hunters and surly tramps flocked here from all over the world. You can almost come here from

Anywhere in Bilgewater clearly sees here. And now...

It doesn't look very pleasing to the eye.

The cold wind howled, blowing as cold as death. Sarah buttoned her double-breasted coat tighter, and heard people's cries and screams in the distance. She didn't know if it was an illusion, but she even

Low sobs can be heard.

Sarah turned her head and found that her first mate Raven was lighting a piece of queen's grass. According to ancient legends, this kind of thing could ward off evil spirits - of course, Sarah didn't believe it.

"Do you really believe this?"

Raven glanced at her and showed an ambiguous expression: "I have a letter, what do you think? It doesn't cost any money... I'll give you more credit."

"Yes, ma'am." A sailor also joined in, waving the pistol in his hand. "I trust my gun, and of course, the Queen's Grass and the Bearded Lady."

Sarah rolled her eyes, turned her head and stopped talking, but she was muttering in her heart.

There is faith, so should she believe in God or bullets?

At this moment, she recalled the man's face in her mind, and suddenly smiled.

It's better to believe him - Sarah Doom thought to herself, then pulled out her pistol, and a gathering of black mist was exploded by the bullet she fired. All the sounds stopped for a moment, and then,

The mist began to tremble spasmodically.

The ghosts started screaming.

－－－－－－Digression－－－－－

More updates tomorrow