Chapter 1050: This is the Night Demon!

Even in the face of Ice Storm and even Kassavar Bloodhoof, Wildhammer never gave birth to this kind of ghost-ridden fear.
Under the stimulus of extreme fear, he screamed and turned the proboscis like a meteor hammer into a devastating storm, which rolled up a large amount of rubble, broken wood and dust in the ruined wall to form an indestructible protection. Shell, shroud yourself in it.
However, the piercing icy cone and the feeling of thorns on the back still permeated the storm like mercury.
There was a sting at the end of Wildhammer's proboscis.
Give birth to the feeling that the whole nose has to be uprooted.
Hastily bowed his head to dodge.
Just listen to a "pop", sparks splashing in the smoke and dust.
It was the sharp edge of the attacker that collided with his fangs.
Judging from the attacker's silent attacking style, this blade, as thin as a cicada's wing, shouldn't have much strength.
But the impact of the sharp blade and the fangs still made half of the wildhammer's gums numb.
Reaching out and touching on the fangs, he immediately felt a crack deep to the root of the tooth.
As long as the crack penetrates into the distance of half a finger, his fangs can be removed.
Up to this moment, Wildhammer still failed to capture the attacker.
This made his fear soar to the limit.
Can only retreat desperately, summon his totem armor-locomotive!
The liquid metal that accompanies the black pores seeps out from 36,000 pores.
The metallic luster of black iron casting has also gathered into hundreds of three-dimensional cuneiform characters, lingering around the body, helping the liquid metal to quickly solidify and condense into layers of indestructible armor.
When the armor of the limbs completed their reproductive equipment in an instant, and aroused an earthquake-like roar, the Wildhammer finally breathed a sigh of relief, ready to switch from defensive to offensive, searching for the damned attacker.
At this moment, he suddenly felt that behind him, in the center of his spine, where the totem armor had not had time to completely seal it, a biting chill came in.
Immediately afterwards, the biting coldness that was close to absolute zero turned into magma that burned everything, following his entire spine, down to the pelvis and legs, and up to his arms and brain, completely taking over his spinal cord. And motor nerves.
Wildhammer's eyes widened.
No matter within the horizon, how the ancestor spirits hidden in the totem armor pour a waterfall-like flow of information.
He couldn't get any guidance from it.
Losing contact with the brain, as if the limbs disappeared from the torso, they could not cooperate with the totem armor to perform even the most basic combat skills.
Wildhammer felt like a collapsed dam.
All the strength accompanies the spine, and the holes that are suddenly cold and hot are all poured out.
He turned around and fell to the ground, groaning half humiliating and half desperate.
With the help of constantly climbing upwards and licking the flames at the highest point of the Blood Skull Arena, he finally saw clearly the true face of the attacker under the dust and gunpowder smoke.
The opponent's body size does not exceed two arms.
In the bloodhoof clan with tall cows and horses, it can only be regarded as an inconspicuous short stature.
However, the streamlined totem armor that evenly covers the whole body and is full of speed and destructive power can make the most massive clan warriors secrete trembling factors from the depths of the bone marrow.
This is a very strange totem armor.
Except for the highly abstract scarlet ghost pattern in the center of the breastplate, Wildhammer did not find the emblems or totems of the major families in Pointe-Noire.
Extending from the elbow all the way back, the two sharp blades like a huge sickle make this totem armor full of unforgettable recognition.
Wildhammer felt that he would never forget such a terrifying totem armor.
-If he can escape from these two sickles that reap life as easily as reaping wheat ears.
The wildhammer's gaze followed the blade of the sickle, all the way to the visor and helmet of the attacker.
Unlike clan warriors who usually engrave mysterious and complicated runes on their faceplates, they form gorgeous totems.
The visor of the attacker was extremely simple and smooth.
Except for the parts close to the eyes, densely pierced through hundreds of tiny holes, forming a ring of vision, used to observe the outside world, there are no extra decorations and lines.
This minimalist design style, which discards all decorations, is very different from the traditional aesthetic taste of the Turan warriors.
But to this pair of visors that can't see any emotional changes, it adds a bit of unfathomable mystery.
Above the visor, there should be the place where the eyebrows and pockets are, and they are also empty.
But there was a bunch of golden glow inlaid with red silk in the spiritual flame, making the attacker like a torch, scorching the heart of the Wildhammer fiercely.
And when the attacker stirred the life's magnetic field, controlled the spiritual flame, and was highly condensed, the golden-red interlaced spiritual flame turned into a strangely shaped big horn, entrenched on the opponent's head.
This image made Wildhammer suddenly jump out of a terrifying name.
"Ye, night demon!"
Wildhammer screamed out the name like a hen whose throat had been cut.
The attacker was noncommittal.
He just lowered his head, and from the hundreds of dense pinholes, there was an admiring look.
I don't appreciate the man Wildhammer.
But appreciate the totem armor on him-the locomotive.
It is said that the locomotive is an ancient artifact.
A long time ago, when the glory of the ancestral spirit was still shining on the entire Tulanze.
The noble Turan warriors, riding on countless divine tools called "locomotives", slammed into the land of the Holy Light like a warhammer that was swiftly moving.
Unfortunately, in order to defend the vitality of the entire land, the Turan warriors had to devote all their resources and energy to the war against the evil of Twilight year after year, day after day.
The followers of the Twilight Cthulhu, the puppets known as the "Holy Light Camp", have sneaked into Turanze many times, tarnishing and destroying the sacred legacy left by the ancestor spirit to the Turan warriors.
Even today, ten thousand years later, like countless powerful artifacts, the real "locomotive" has long been lost.
Despite this, the Wildhammer family incorporated part of the "locomotive" technology into the totem armor.
Only then did the bloodhoof clan be cast, no, perhaps the most powerful totem armor "locomotive" among the five clans.
Ever since he was fifteen years old, he wrestled with a bloodthirsty and violent "bone shattering giant elephant" in the coming-of-age ceremony, and used his bone hammer and iron fist to smash the opponent's hardest skull. Wildhammer has obtained this. Vice Totem Battle Armor.
After nearly two decades of training and fighting, Wildhammer originally thought that he and the Totem Armor were connected and integrated, and could inspire the strongest power of the "locomotive". It is this Totem Armor that has been passed down for thousands of years. The most perfect host.
At this moment, facing the starving gaze of the night demon, Wildhammer discovered to his horror that his totem armor was shaken!
"how so?"
Wildhammer stared dumbfounded into the field of vision, as the cuneiform text was jumping and shining frantically.
It seems that contradictory instructions, as well as the unlocking and deprivation of various permissions, burst out at the same time.
Originally, even if the totem warrior is seriously injured, the totem armor can partially take over the owner's body, use liquid metal to repair damaged blood vessels, bones, muscle fibers and neural networks, enter the automatic combat mode, and help the owner escape the danger.
However, when the Wildhammer gave the Totem Armor the command "Help the owner escape the danger at all costs", within the horizon, the options made up of cuneiform characters all turned gray!
It seems that his totem armor is deeply attracted by the power of the night demon, and he is about to abandon his "wrecked ship"!
This is impossible, this kind of totem battle armor voluntarily breaks apart, it will only happen in a battle where the strength of the enemy is too great!
Could it be that the gap between him and the Night Demon is so big?
Under Wildhammer's unbelievable gaze, the Night Demon raised his right arm high.
The scimitar extended from the end of the elbow, turned into liquid metal again, and slowly retracted into the arm armor.
It gushes out again along the palm of his palm, and at the end of his five fingers, he has shaped five sharp lancets.
Five lancets stabbed the Wildhammer's breastplate fiercely.
Following the cracked gap on the breastplate, he pierced in easily like a sacked ox.
Wildhammer felt a venom in his field of vision.
This venom continued to erode the power in the "locomotive" that the ancestral spirit gave him.
The instructions that make the cuneiform writing continue to change from gleaming to dull gray, and from dull gray to fragmentation, and finally disappear one by one.
"It's impossible, why is it so!"
The Wildhammer whimpered in his heart, "This is the totem armor left by the ancestor spirit, and the battle souls attached to this totem armor are all my ancestors connected by blood!
"Why, the war spirits of the ancestors will abandon their blood, let this humble rat people tarnish their glory!"
The belief of Wildhammer collapsed completely.
At the same time, his ability to perceive the outside world through the totem armor was also broken.
Originally, the totem armor was like the second skin of a clan warrior. It seemed thick, but it did not affect it. It could even increase the most subtle vision, the most acute hearing and the most delicate touch.
Now, after the Night Demon's five fingers were inserted into the chest of the Wildhammer, the large amount of information collected by the "Locomotive" from the outside world was "intercepted" by the opponent in advance.
As a result, the five senses of Wildhammer were deprived one by one, making him feel like he was lying in a cold iron coffin.
In the end, a sharp pain came from Wildhammer's chest.
The Night Demon disassembled and stripped the "locomotive" from him piece by piece.
It was like pulling his bones out of the body one by one.
In the repeated bombings of extreme pain, shame, and despair, the largest gladiator in Pointe Noire, one of the four ace of the Blood Skull Arena, and the noble warrior flowing with the blood of glory, finally collapsed completely.
Before ushering in greater humiliation, he was lucky enough to plunge into darkness.
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