Søren didn't dare to get too close to it.
The hunters had anti-tracking abilities, and the gnolls had a good sense of smell. They could smell the scent of a living person if they got too close to it. Søren's figure was completely shrouded in the shadows, and there were no traces of him at all. He was moving in the shadows, and there was no way he would expose himself in a place without shadows.
The distance between them was getting closer and closer.
Søren was moving very slowly, and there were almost no footsteps. There was a gray hare near the bushes, and it didn't notice Søren even when he passed by it about a meter away. It was still busy eating something. There were traces of a bonfire in front of him, and it seemed that the hunters had spent the night here. There were also skinned beast carcasses nearby. They must have killed a wild boar last night, and there was still half of the boar's head left uneaten.
A hybrid orc appeared in front of him. It looked at the foot of the mountain with a fierce expression, and it was rubbing its battle axe in its hand.
"% *&* (@ # …% * (…"
Søren couldn't understand what it was saying at all. It seemed to be the hybrid orc's dialect, and there was a little bit of pure orc language in it. This language couldn't be understood without learning it. He could only guess from its facial expressions and movements. The hybrid orc seemed to be angry, and it kept pointing at the foot of the mountain, as if it wanted to attack.
The number of hunters had decreased a lot!
Søren saw the dark high-grade gnoll. There was a sword wound on its face, and it was staring at the hybrid orc coldly.
It seemed that they hadn't finished the hunt.
"Something must have happened!" Søren moved forward in the shadows, and went around a hundred or two meters to the foot of the mountain. His expression gradually became serious, and the vegetation on the ground seemed too strong.
He reached out and picked up a vine, and murmured, "What is this? Entanglement? No! It doesn't look like a simple spell effect! "
The power of a spell wouldn't last that long.
Everything in front of him had obviously lasted for two or three days, and the plants were full of vitality for some reason.
"Druil?"
Søren approached the mountain bit by bit, and found that the foot of the mountain had become a sea of plants. There were green vines everywhere, and these plants seemed to have come alive. They swayed gently with the wind, and he could vaguely see signs of unreasonable activity. The exuberant plants were like a barrier, blocking the holes in all directions. Fresh blood could be seen in some places. The thorns on the vines had pierced into the bodies of some creatures, using their blood to maintain their existence. However, there were also signs of withering near the edges.
"Is this a living plant? Or did it change with divine power? "
Søren slowly pulled out his curved sword, not daring to get close to the vines that were obviously too vigorous. This kind of thing was definitely difficult to deal with. Even legendary Rogues might be trapped in it if they were unlucky. Looking at the corpses inside the vines, they were definitely the corpses of high-grade hunters. At least 6 of them with a profession level of 15 or above had died in the vines. It seemed that they also tried to attack with fire, but these supernatural vines were not afraid of fire at all.
Søren saw the figures of the Elven guards. The number had decreased a lot. Only three of them were still standing. There were four or five lying on the ground next to them. It seemed that many of them had died. The handsome Elven nobleman was still there, but he looked very embarrassed. There were three claw marks on his face, and his eyebrows were cut open. His face looked particularly ferocious. Judging from the wound, the nobleman was almost attacked in the temple.
"It doesn't look like a burst of divine power. Is it because of some legendary item? "
Søren stared at the Elven nobleman in the distance. His expression was a little desperate. They had been trapped here for nearly three days. Most of his guards had died, and the rest were basically injured. They were obviously trapped here by the hunters, and only supported by the vines outside for so long.
Time passed little by little.
The despair on the Elven nobleman's face became more and more obvious. The guard said something in his ear, but it was too far away to hear clearly.
These vines could not last forever.
If no one came to rescue them, these people would definitely die in the hands of the hunters!
The sky was getting darker and darker.
Søren quietly landed from the tree trunk and slowly moved forward along the shadows. Rogues were very patient, and Søren was even more patient. He was not in a hurry to attack, nor did he do anything that would expose his existence. He was like a bystander, always watching the movements of the group of people at the foot of the mountain, maintaining a distance of about one or two hundred meters. Although the hunters were constantly arguing, they were still vigilant. Søren was sure that he could kill them in one shot, but he was not sure if he could retreat after attacking.
He also did not approach the Elves.
First of all, Søren did not have the ability to help them get out of danger. Second, they might not trust him. He was not enthusiastic enough to risk his life to help someone who had nothing to do with him. There were twelve hunters in this group. Half of them were around Professional Level 12, and the other half were all high-grade professions with Professional Level 15 and above. Half of them were mixed Orcs. Although the high-grade Gnoll was very strong, its voice seemed to have been weakened a lot.
The hunters were roasting meat. They had sent someone to hunt a goat.
Some people tried to get close to the vines, but when they saw the dancing thorns, they immediately retreated. They seemed to be very scared.
Søren sat on a tree and looked at the bonfire in the distance. He then turned to the shadows at the foot of the mountain and took out a piece of dried meat to chew. At this time, it was a competition of patience. The most important thing in hunting was patience.
Night fell.
The hunters basically did not sleep. They silently surrounded the bonfire. Their continuous failure to interrupt the ritual had made them frustrated and angry.
The mixed Orcs were picking their teeth with a dagger and looking behind them with hatred.
Søren heard a slight noise from the vines, but before he could do anything, the high-grade Gnoll sneered. It quietly lurked and slowly approached in the Night. The other hunters looked at each other but did not move. Instead, they slightly raised their voices.
An Elven guard lurked out.
The vines seemed to be controlled and did not attack him. After he left the range of the vines, he quietly sneaked out. It seemed that he was a Ranger. The people in the vines were obviously watching him nervously. Søren's Darkvision was already in effect. Night was not much different to day for him. The Shadow Dancer was an advanced profession that was very suitable for Night activities.
Swoosh!
Just when the Elven guard thought that he had escaped and wanted to speed up to report, a black shadow suddenly rushed out from behind the bushes. With a flash of cold light, the Gnoll's sharp claws directly pierced into the Elven guard's abdomen. The Gnoll grabbed the Elven guard's neck with its palm and then lifted him up. When the Gnoll pulled out its right claw, blood and intestines spilled out. A terrible scream was heard. The vines were strangely silent, and then someone's angry roar was heard.
The Gnoll picked up the Elven guard with a grim smile and then walked towards the bonfire.
Two strong mixed-blood Orcs stood up and looked at each other fiercely. Then, a cruel smile appeared on their faces. They directly skewered the Elven guard, who was still alive, with wooden sticks, and then roasted him on the bonfire!
An extremely miserable wail rang out.
The face of the Elven nobles in the vines was as white as a sheet of paper. The remaining Elven guards were also pale.
Søren put down the jerky.
He suddenly felt that he really did not have much of an appetite. He silently put away the dry food. The faint screams were still intermittently heard. He held his curved sword tightly and stayed where he was. He looked up at the sky.
It was still early.
The time before dawn was the time when people were the most relaxed. Even high-grade professions would feel a little tired during this time.
The screams from the bonfire were getting weaker and weaker.
Søren looked over there expressionlessly. His hand holding the curved sword was a little pale because he used too much strength.
There was a smell of meat in the air.
But when the smell drifted out, the Elven nobles in the vines suddenly vomited. He vomited until tears and snot came out. He looked very embarrassed. The hunters laughed ferociously. The mixed-blood Orcs picked up the corpse, tore off a leg, and threw it into the vines. They also said something loudly, which seemed to mean that the roasted meat was delicious and they could eat it now.
One of the Elven guards wanted to rush out as if he had gone crazy, but he was stopped by another person.
Because going out would be suicide!
The Elven nobles were completely paralyzed on the spot. His expression was a little nervous because the roasted leg was thrown in front of him.
As a noble, he had probably never experienced something like this.
This was the real survival in the wilderness!
Søren was very quiet. His figure was invisible in the darkness. He kept paying attention to the bonfire and occasionally looked up at the sky.
It was almost dawn.
The Elves in the vines were almost on the verge of collapse. The hunters' methods were not something these pampered fellows could withstand.
Some of the mixed-blood Orcs were sleeping, but some were on guard.
Night.
The high-ranking Jackalan's eyes were green, and it had been watching the nearby movements. However, as time passed, it also gently closed its eyes. They had been surrounding this place for almost three days, and it also needed a little rest. The power of magic was declining. They found that some of the vines had withered. It would not take long for these damn vines to disappear.
Søren watched silently.
Although the high-tier Jackalan had closed its eyes, it was still squatting on the ground. It could rush out in an instant.
It was not asleep. It just closed its eyes and took a nap.
Time passed by minute by minute.
Some of the mixed-blood Orcs were already snoring. The vigilant hunters looked slightly tired. The Gnolls' posture was also slightly tilted.
Søren's expressionless face finally showed a trace of emotion. He narrowed his eyes slightly, pulled out his curved sword, and then slowly approached in an arc.
Bit by bit, bit by bit, he got closer.
…
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