Overlord: Start from the Goblin Lair.

The battle on the top of the tower was not too intense. Although Mark briefly had the "qualification" to compete with Gillianis under the influence of his evil and powerful master, how long he could survive under the hands of the moon elf depended entirely on his luck and how quickly the dragon lich came to rescue him.

On the contrary, under the tower, the street fighting in Green Swamp Town quickly entered a white-hot stage. The militia commanded by Kalade and Andre and others quickly fought back and forth with the thugs of the Yungang Holt family who had sneaked into the town. Even though Evander retreated to a stone house to "personally" supervise the battle, and supplemented it with a verbal offensive that was better than nothing, he was unable to suppress the counterattack of the crowd.

In fact, if everyone's strength is more concentrated, there is a chance to kill Evander and his lackeys. However, they need to consider not only their opponents, but also the residents of the town and Constance who is imprisoned in the magic alley.

"How can this be fake?!"

The spiked chain easily cut the throat of a clown, but the figure did not splatter blood. Instead, it exploded with a funny yet deadly laugh. The hidden trap inside pierced the arm of the shadow spirit Yelena, causing blood to flow.

Under the hood, a sickly blush appeared on Shadow Spirit's pale face. She had sneaked into the alley to save Constance during the chaos, but after several confrontations, she was almost flushed with anger.

As a shadow dancer, Yelena's best skill is lurking in the shadows and assassinating her targets. But now she has been tricked by her colleagues. How can she not get angry?
"Yelena, don't be impulsive!"

Constance tried her best to hold on to Shadow Spirit. Compared to Yelena, her mentality became more stable as her injuries became more serious. "He is just disgusting. As long as we don't take the initiative to step into his trap, this guy can't do anything to us."

"Everyone speaks better than they sing!" At some corner of the alley, the clown's laughter rang out again, "But I have never let my target escape!"

Along with the laughter, a flying knife coated with venom once again drew a tricky arc and attacked, and was then shot down by Yelena's swung spiked chain. The two women no longer wanted to fight and quickly ran in the opposite direction.

No matter how the other party taunts them, killing them is not their main goal, but how to survive.

But Constance had a small doubt in her mind: could such a clown who was not good at direct combat really kill her? Was the scarred face from the Holt family a little too confident?
This question was soon answered.

With a light "snapping" sound, Constance hurriedly raised her sword to block, but she was still a step too slow. A flash of knife brushed past her ear and passed by her. A strand of black hair was cut off in an instant and scattered into the air.

A machete? When the attacker passed by them, Constance and Yelena were both startled. This was not the clown's weapon.

"Constance, isn't it?"

A deep male voice sounded in front of them, and a tall dark-skinned elf blocked their way. It was a male drow. To people who were not familiar with the underground race, he might be no different from other male drow. However, in their eyes, this appearance and body shape would point to one person.

"Seymour!" Constance and Yelena looked at each other and saw the horror in each other's eyes. "Why are you here?!"

"Have the bandits outside been repelled?" "Constance, be careful!" Shadow Spirit stopped the half-elf. Although this man looked almost exactly like Seymour, as a subspecies that had also left the protection of the elven gods, Yelena keenly noticed his difference. "Seymour is outside now, with Carlos. You can't be him!"

And although Seymour's most common weapon when teaching militiamen and others martial arts was a pair of scimitars, those who knew him well knew that this was not his best weapon!
"You're not Seymour!"

"Ah, you recognized him so quickly." The man dressed as Seymour sneered, "Master Evander is a useless man with high aspirations but low skills. The master is absolutely right."

"The plan seems to be perfect, but the execution is always full of loopholes - if he could really realize his idea, at least you wouldn't recognize me so quickly."

"You're almost there too. If you didn't want us to notice you, you shouldn't have acted so quickly," Yelena retorted, "Seymour wouldn't sneak up on us."

“Whatever,” the man shook his head, but he had no intention of removing his disguise. Instead, he attacked directly, “Clown! How long are you going to play? Come and take care of them with me!”

The creepy laughter approached quickly from behind the two of them. Yelena formed a barrier with the spiked chain in her hand, blocking the man pretending to be Seymour in front of her, while Constance raised the swift sword in one hand and held the dagger in the other hand, and fought with the clown.

Although both opponents are experts in fighting in such a cramped environment, fortunately Yelena and Constance are not unfamiliar with this and will not fall into a disadvantage for a while.

The premise is that the number of enemies will not continue to increase.

"Retreat inside! Use the terrain to deal with them!" Outside the alley, as the residents of the town were driven into their homes, the situation of Ivender's Yungang thugs took a sharp turn for the worse. Ivender had to break into the alley first and command his men to go in, trying to make a final stand by relying on the terrain derived from magic.

It was obvious that he was unwilling to accept his failure, but another reason was that his Uncle Mark had promised that if his plan failed, he would show a trump card that could turn the situation around.

This was Evandel's second to last confidence. As for the last one... Mark was not the only one who had a trump card, he also had one. It was just that this card had not yet been touched, and this card was not so easy to use.

Otherwise, he would never sit idly by and watch things turn out like this.

Evander Holt ran in the dark alley, avoiding the box traps set by the clowns. He lowered his head from time to time to look at the flickering sword-shaped pattern on his chest. The sword was not vertically upward or downward, but slanted under his collarbone, with the tip of the sword pointing to his heart.

This is the price he has to pay. Once he chooses to cooperate with that existence, he must pay the price. Heart, body, soul, will all belong to it.

But there is also an advantage to doing this: that being will help him solve all problems, no matter what form it takes - they have always been very concerned about contracts. (End of this chapter)