Overlord: Start from the Goblin Lair.

Chapter 410: The Masked Elf

On the red fungus carpet, under the silver-grey crescent moon, a pale, pretty lady held a scepter and looked down at a group of hounds. Black fog lingered around her, and the seats behind her rose and fell.

Whether in terms of atmosphere or power, at this moment, Sylvia even had a tendency to surpass Gillianis.

Even her companions who were familiar with her, if they didn't know her background, would inevitably have to pay her respect as an inferior to a superior, not to mention the night hounds in front of her who were originally servants.

These magical creatures turned their long necks and looked at each other with their human-like faces, occasionally accompanied by low barking as a medium for exchanging opinions.

However, a few seconds later, with a short cry from the hound leader, all the night hounds gave up struggling and bowed down in front of Sylvia with sincerity. The vampire only felt that the mental connection between herself and these creatures had become stronger again. Their thoughts, even what they saw and heard were once again transmitted to her mind without any error.

"Wow, that's pretty intimidating!" When Sylvia gathered the power that didn't completely belong to her, Sera came up to her with a giggle, and punched Sylvia's shoulder lightly with her fist as big as a casserole, almost knocking the vampire to the ground. "Why don't you stay in that state all the time?"

"If you keep acting so strong, these big dogs will definitely not dare to turn against you!"

"You think I don't want to?" Sylvia smiled bitterly, covering her painful shoulder blade. "Don't you remember the experience we told you in detail? This power was given to the count by a guy of unknown origin. I just took it away by chance. This is not my own power at all."

"Although I can control it as I want, every time I use it, I feel like something is missing. Before I fully understand its ins and outs, I will definitely use it as little as possible."

"So that's how it is. I really forgot about it!" The barbarian widened his eyes and said quickly, "Then you'd better use it less! I've heard that some tribes rely heavily on the power of priests or prophets, but these powers are cursed! These tribes often end up in a miserable way!"

The goblin hunter snorted: "I think you actually envy those tribes. After all, your Ochre Tribe doesn't have the qualifications to be cursed even if they want to..."

"Bullshit! We have our own priests, too, okay? It's just that we use them sparingly!" The barbarian retorted loudly, but what he got was a pout and a smack from Driver. Sera immediately put on the Blue Grip and opened his arms to grab the goblin, "Try making that sound again?!"

"Okay, stop making trouble!" Ron had to step in to stop their disruptive behavior. "That guy ran away again. We have to catch him quickly!"

"There are so many things wrong with the Fusarium and Spore People here. He might know something - it's even possible that he is the mastermind!"

Anastria helped to pull Sera and Driver apart, her expression a little serious: "Your Excellency, what you said makes sense. Those red molds obviously reproduced with a purpose and headed straight for the castle where the vampire used to live. Otherwise, if the distance from here to the castle is used as the radius of their reproduction range, then the area covered is too exaggerated!"

"It's a pity that this vampire is now homeless and alone," Ron summoned the Weaving Preface and reorganized his few remaining spells. "I couldn't stop him just now. I'm afraid it will be difficult to catch him again."

"Actually, it's not that difficult." Sylvia looked up after hearing that. She waved her hand, and the Yeti hounds quickly escaped into the etheric plane. "He just managed to win over the Yeti hounds and made them remember his scent."

"Now that they have returned to our side, we can give them a chance to redeem themselves. What do you think, benefactor?"

"Just don't get fooled by that guy again..." Ivy muttered.

"Even ordinary animals would have such a short memory, let alone magical creatures," Ron waved his hand to signal everyone to set off again, "Sylvia, let the hounds split into several groups. One group should keep an eye on our Lord Earl, and the rest should report and guide the route on the road!" "We can't let him get away for the third time, no matter what!"

Sylvia immediately issued stricter orders to the Nighthounds. To her, Count Richthofen was not just an enemy. More importantly, as long as this vampire who had once been kind to her was not dead, freedom, as well as the attached castles, territories, titles, etc. would never truly belong to her!
So, this vampire must die!
Two days later, in the dense forest infected by Fusarium.

The ragged vampire lord was like a lost dog, desperately speeding up again and again, trying to shake off the pursuers who were following him like a shadow. He seemed to be close to success, from last night to today, no hound appeared in his perception range.

However, when the count lowered his head and looked at the neat teeth marks on the edge of his left palm, a sense of crisis surged into his heart again, driving him to continue running for his life.

The bite of the night hounds also causes damage to the soul. These animals will also use this to locate the location of their prey and hunt them endlessly until they have eaten the last bit of flesh and blood of the fleeing creature. However, as an experienced spellcaster, Richthofen can also use this bite mark to reversely locate the position of the pursuers and avoid their pursuit.

This place is already the heartland of the Chipmunk's expansion territory. The cunningness of the Night Hounds cannot be compared with that of the vampire Counts who have lived for centuries. No matter how hard they try to show themselves, they still cannot get close to the vampires again.

"Tomorrow at midnight, I will completely get rid of them..." The vampire muttered to himself. His opponents were just some big dogs that were not very smart. His calculations could not be wrong. He shuttled through the dense forest covered with red mold, carefully avoiding the spore people and thorn beasts that had become extremely powerful after mutation.

These creatures are not fatal to him, but they will delay his progress, so it is better not to provoke them at this time.

The vampire's gaze was fixed on the unknown darkness ahead, where he and his wife had witnessed the adventures they had witnessed when they first set foot in the Fusarium territory. It was also there that he and she had left behind a specially built shelter that was impervious to Fusarium infection as a laboratory.

Once you get to that place...

A sinister and half-crazy hunched figure flashed through the Vampire Count's mind. The nightmare-like shadow made the Count shiver involuntarily while he was running.

As long as he gets to that place, the old guy can solve all his problems for him...

It has the ability to cause all the Fusarium in the entire area to mutate, and even affect the existence of the spore people and thorn beasts born from the Fusarium. A group of country bumpkins can be wiped out with a snap of a finger.

As the count thought about it, with a little happiness of his own, he plunged into the darkness of the dense fungi. The fusariums made way for him one after another. This feeling of being surrounded by people made Richthofen feel a little dizzy. However, he soon discovered that he seemed not to be the only one who enjoyed this privilege.

The blood-red bat wings folded behind him. The count stopped and stared at the jungle in front of him in doubt. There, his long silver-white hair swayed in the wind along with the surrounding red fungi.

The person was tall and slender, with long and pointed ears that stretched horizontally. Her blue-green dress with gold inlays formed a distinct arc on her chest. All these signs indicated that she should be a female elf.

Two circles of thin ropes hung at the base of her ears, pulling up a light-colored ball mask decorated with gold, silver and feathers, which only covered the eyes, nose and the upper part of the cheeks. Such exquisite decoration was out of tune with the barbaric environment here, making the elf look like a noble lady who was going to a party but accidentally got lost here.

But Count Richthofen took several steps back with three parts of surprise and seven parts of fear.

The howl of the Night Hound could be faintly heard from the teeth marks on his hand, but he no longer cared about that. The being before him was dozens or even hundreds of times more powerful than the Night Hound!
What is even more deadly is that when the Count looked at the mask, underneath the false face appeared a pair of lake blue eyes!
It's broken and I forgot to send it QAQ
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(End of this chapter)