Chapter 1120
The Mystic Corpse Worms quickly collided with those things. The next moment, every defense that man had arranged around himself was pierced through. His face turned livid, and he spun around and ran.
The insects met no resistance at all from his newly developed witchcraft, and even seemed to be enjoying themselves. As for the golden light on his alchemical equipment, they paid it no heed whatsoever and charged straight at him.
His face went black. What the hell were these things?
He immediately sent out a distress signal. At the same time, his heart groaned with misery. What kind of expert was this? They had actually found this Voodoo Organization camp directly. Where had the information leaked? Damn it!
He glanced back at the valley, and his heart turned cold. This unknown expert controlled millions upon tens of millions of these insects. Here, it was nothing short of a slaughter. It was over. It was all over.
Even he was no match for them. The two level-six guards at the entrance were finished too. Wouldn't the level-fives and level-fours be utterly useless?
Just as he thought this, the black mist behind him suddenly accelerated, pouncing forward and swallowing his body. Before he could even let out a scream, a mighty level-seven expert vanished without a trace.
Five minutes later, the valley returned to calm, while the black swarm of insects rapidly gathered together.
As the insect swarm converged, Dole's figure slowly emerged. He was holding someone in his hand—the level-seven expert. He had not been devoured; he was still useful. At this moment, the level-seven expert wore a blank expression, without the slightest trace of emotion.
Dole had attacked his sea of consciousness. His consciousness was now scattered, and he had become a vegetable. As for