Thanks to the Forging Master Gloves, Lin Yun's hands wouldn't get burned. The clothes on his body felt scorching hot, but at least they hadn't caught fire, and he didn't have to worry about his hands getting burned.
Using both his hands and feet, Lin Yun crawled toward the exit in the most pathetic way possible. After crawling for quite a while, he finally reached the centaur again. Looking at the centaur, whose eyes remained open in death, Lin Yun sighed helplessly once more. This time, without his iron helmet, his face showed his helplessness—but there was no one alive around to see it.
Lin Yun reached out and closed the centaur's eyes, then crawled toward the exit again, accompanied by the crackling of the flames around him.
Suddenly, with a sharp crack, several burning pieces of wood fell from the ceiling. Although the Elven Fortress was built mostly in harmony with nature, it still had a few man-made features.
The red-hot wood fell without hitting Lin Yun, but it blocked his way. He frowned slightly, then had no choice but to stand up, hold his breath, and swing the Heavy Mace at the wood with both hands.
d20+2+2=16, hit. d8+3=8
The mace struck the wood with a heavy blow, its momentum snapping the largest piece in front of him and knocking it aside. The other pieces broke apart, too. Lin Yun immediately dropped to the ground and took a brief breath of the scorching air.
The hot air filled Lin Yun's nostrils, making him feel miserable, but that was all. His constitution was no longer that of an ordinary person.
With the fire burning, the oxygen in the air had naturally dropped dramatically, and Lin Yun's breathing had inevitably become difficult.
He exhaled briefly, stood