Helise strolled out.
But she was still holding a head in her hand.
Seeing Helise come out of the Death Valley, everyone made way for her.
"Helise, in principle, we don't object to you killing people," West said. "But we can't tolerate the birth of a pervert. Throw this head away and we'll still be on the same side."
"I'm not a pervert …" Helise threw the head on the ground helplessly. "I just want what's in his head."
"Fine. Next time you carry a head, can you find something to carry it with?"
"I don't have anything to carry," Helise said. "My clothes are expensive. I don't want to use them to carry this disgusting head."
"Go find something to carry it with you. Oh, how long will it take to extract the thing from this head? Can you do it in Norway? Or do you need to bring it back? "
"It'll take a long time."
"Fine. Looks like I need to find a way to send this head back home."
Helise looked at the scene. "Did I miss something?"
Magri Modric saw the head.
He recognized Riblic. Back then, he was the one who had tried his best to pull Riblic into the Holy Flame Sect.
Of course, in the end, he had personally handed Riblic over to the organization.
So, he remembered it clearly, even though many years had passed.
That crazy, perverted, terrifying madman filled with evil.
He was an undefeatable madman.
Modric remembered it very, very clearly. Riblic!
But today, they had reunited, and in such a way.
Riblic only had a head left.
The face of the head was also filled with shock and astonishment.
How could this be? Who was that black-clothed girl?
How could she have killed Malik?
How could a girl kill that terrifying madman?
"Helise, don't fight with me," Jollinash said. "I want the man called Tyrant alive … West, get ready too. We need to send him back to the headquarters too."
"Which one is Tyrant?" Helise asked curiously. "Which one? Isn't he powerful? He has to be at least one-tenth as powerful as the president to have that name. "
"That's him." Jollinash pointed at Magri Modric. "But this nickname belongs to me now. He has a spell that I like."
Magri Modrich suddenly felt a chill.
He met Halys's gaze.
He noticed that Halis was a little interested in him.
After all, this girl had just killed Ribbrick.
Modric didn't think he could compete with Ribbrick.
He also didn't think that he could fight against the person who killed Ribbrick.
This was a true level suppression.
"All right, all right, I won't do it." Haryl shrugged.
In fact, her magic power had not yet recovered.
She had used the Abyssal Demon in the battle with Ribbrick.
It couldn't be said that he didn't have any fighting strength now.
However, he was definitely not at his peak condition.
The battle in the Death Canyon just now had satisfied her.
Therefore, for the time being, she did not want to make a move.
Moreover, these enemies were too weak compared to Ribbrick.
A few of their main forces did not make a move.
Two-thirds of the work had been done.
Now, only one-third of the people were left.
No one in the Sacred Flame Sect, including Magri Modrich, had expected this.
These Americans were so strong.
"Run …" someone shouted.
However, they could not escape from the man-eating beast.
White-faced Ghost liked this kind of chasing fish and slashing game the most.
Except for Gatela, who needed to supervise White-faced Ghost, everyone else stayed where they were.
Jollinash looked at Magri Modrich with a smile on her face.
"See, give me that spell and I'll let you go."
Magri Modrich's face was pale.
But Delin's face was even paler.
Because he suddenly realized the mistake he had made.
He had underestimated these Americans.
These Americans had not really made a move along the way.
But this did not mean they were not strong.
Most importantly, he was a traitor.
Traitors were more hated than enemies.
For example, in Germany after World War II, ordinary soldiers would not be court-martialed.
Because they were just manipulated pawns.
Only those generals and leaders were court-martialed.
And those traitors.
Magri Modrich's eyes flashed. He was looking for a chance to break out.
The only thing he was glad about was that he was a fire elemental. He had not risked his life alone and had not gone deep into the enemy's line of defense. He had been standing on the periphery.
So he was considering if he should turn and run now.
Would he have the chance?
"Do you want to run?" Jollinash was too experienced in battle.
Looking at Magri Modrich's eyes, Jollinash guessed his intentions.
Magri Modrich was secretly furious. Damn this little girl.
Why was her intuition so sharp?
"Guardian … let's … let's surrender." Lev was already desperate.
Was this still the spiritualist from the magic desert?
This was like a national football team suddenly running to the Champions League and then abusing a powerhouse team.
Not winning, but losing 10: 0.
This result was so absurd, so unacceptable.
"There are too few people, not enough to go around," Morid complained.
In fact, he could handle most of the enemies alone.
Magri Modrich gritted his teeth and shouted, "I demand a fair duel with you. If I win, I demand the corresponding rights."
Everyone looked at Magri Modric. It was unknown whether they were surprised by Magri Modric's choice.
Or surprised by his courage.
In fact, Magri Modrich was just putting his all on the line.
He didn't think he could escape.
He wasn't good at speed. If he wanted to rely on his own two feet to escape the forest and the strong people in front of him …
That was completely impossible.
That was why he came up with such a strange request.
"What if you lose?" Jollinash asked.
"Then I accept being your captive."
"F * ck, you're a captive now," Jollinash scolded. She wasn't a lady.
If she was a lady, she wouldn't have wanted to get the nickname Tyrant just because she thought it was imposing.
"If you lose, then hand over your magic," Jollinash said. "How about that?"
"Nothing much." Magri Modrich knew very well that magic was his life-saving card. If he handed it over, he would completely become a lamb on the chopping board.
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