Chapter 812 (2/2)

The refugees were stupefied and began to discuss in a low voice.

”Do you think we should believe that girl?”

”Hi, old John, we've all been like this. What else can we do?”

”I heard that some demons can sacrifice human beings for power or something...”

”We can't resist either. Just sacrifice us here?”

”Maybe something needs to be prepared for the sacrifice For example, magic circle and so on... ”

”Mad, I'm starving to death. It's better to be sacrificed than starved. I'll go first. You can do it.”

A fairly tall man gritted his teeth and came out of the suspicious crowd to keep up with Sylvie.

With the first example, more and more people follow. Human beings have the psychology of conformity. When a certain number of people follow, even if they just swore, ”this is definitely a problem!” People followed the crowd.

After a short walk, they came to a forest.

No, it should be said that a place was originally a forest.Now the trees in the forest have become bare Not only the leaves, but also the bark, have been stripped off, and even a few teeth marks can be seen on the smooth trunk.

In general, saran's attempt to bite the tree trunk is not funny enough

Sylvie doesn't know what happened to the refugees who ate the grove, but it's going to be bad.

Thinking of this, he sighed, stopped and looked at the woods.

The refugees stopped behind him as if waiting for something.

After a while, some of the refugees began to whisper uncontrollably.

It was at this time that Sylvie finally made a move.

He took out a wand from nowhere - a move that startled the refugees, and even some of them were already in a hurry to escape - and then he inserted the wand on the cold, steel hard ground beside the woods and sang a few incantations that human beings could not understand.

The next moment, as if time goes back, the trees in the forest grew bark and leaves again, and opened a lovely flower after another.

The refugees were stunned, but SIVI's magic was not over.

Soon those little flowers withered, fell to the ground and disappeared, and then the fruit appeared.

Honey like sweet smell in the air, a big fist of bread hanging in the branches, attractive salivation.

Yes, bread grows from trees that should have grown fruit.

”These trees will last about a week.” ”Before the end of the civil war and the cold, there will be enough for you,” Seaver said, smiling at the still stunned refugees