我的兔子好软水好多的视频

Several of the goblin leaders motioned with their eyes as a goblin with only his left ear stood forward. He was dressed in the sharp uniform of the Chamber. He waved his hand and started making a commotion.

“Left-Ear, what are you trying to do, exactly?” An old goblin wearing the Goblin Salvation Society robes stood up and stared angrily at this goblin.

The other believers who had always seen the Great Sage as the savior of the goblins also gathered around him and started arguing with Left-Ear.

Locke, who was now a Third Grade adept, sat casually and calmly in a corner of the room. He caressed a short staff embedded with all sorts of colorful, magical gemstones in his hand as he watched this dogfight unfold!

A Third Grade adept and commander of the Crimson Clan Flagship Versailles– either one of these two positions would be enough to make him superior over all these goblins. He would be the key individual to win over, regardless of which goblin faction came into prominence. None of them would ever dare to erode the benefits that belonged to him and his people.

That was why Locke could watch this fight in such a calm and aloof fashion. He didn’t need to concern himself with the political scheming and plans behind it all!

Similarly, the leader of the machinist sorcerers, Blackwing, also remained detached from these affairs.

As the leader of one of the few armed forces amongst the goblins that possessed elementium powers, Blackwing was an important individual. He might only be at an insignificant level of Second Grade, but he led the Brutalblood Army that consisted of over thirteen thousand goblins.

Moreover, ten percent of the machinist sorcerers were Second Grade.

If you were to count it in that fashion, the machinist sorcerers were the most powerful force among the goblins, even if they weren’t too powerful individually. Consequently, the status of their leader Blackwing was also significantly elevated. He was an individual that everyone wanted on their side.

Apart from the adepts and machinist sorcerers, the goblins’ most formidable faction was the Goblin Research Institute, whose members were primarily magical goblins. They controlled two Fourth Grade golem dragons, as well as part of the Crimson Fleet.

The engineers, mechanics, and technicians of the Goblin Research Institute became representatives of the goblins. They had quite a lot of sway within the Crimson Clan.

Usually, these few factions minded their own business and worked in their own domains, seldom coming together for any sort of discussion. Their relationship was only barely at the level of having tea together every so often.

Should something involve the benefit of their faction, they would certainly be at odds.

They wouldn’t go as far as assassinations and evil schemes, but swinging their fists around and beating each other black and blue was a common occurrence!

In the past, the divided goblins were pulled together by the intermediary that was the Great Sage, and peace was kept between the various factions. As the Great Goblin Sage neared the end of his life, the entire goblin race faced a reorganization in power and authority.

That was why they had all gathered here. The goblins all had their eyes set upon the Chairman position of the Goblin General Chamber of Commerce!

Snorlax, lying in the luxurious bed, looked so old that it was unbearable to even look at him. The numerous life extension ceremonies had allowed him to surpass the limitations of a goblin’s lifespan again and again. He had become the first goblin to live to six hundred years old.

However, death had finally caught up to him after all these years. It caused his entire body, and even his soul itself, to radiate a cold and rotting aura, a herald of his death to come.

“Get...out. All...of...them, get...out......”

Snorlax shouted with his feeble and trembling voice. The elven priest in charge of taking care of him stood up and demanded that the goblins leave.

“Let us leave. Lord Snorlax needs the quiet!”

“We can’t leave. We still have to hear who Lord Snorlax intends to inherit the position of Chairman.”

“Indeed! The General Chamber of Commerce is a massive organization. It can’t be without a leader. We must choose a new Chairman.”

“I choose Boss Blackwing. He’s the only one who has the power to remain seated in that position.”

“Nonsense! Blackwing is already the leader of the machinist sorcerers. He can’t take on two positions at once; it will cause a power imbalance. I nominate Vice-Chairman Bausch.”

“Bausch is too old. He won’t live for too much longer, either. We ought to choose someone young.”

“And who would that be...you?”

......

With the loss of Snorlax, the key figure who could unite the goblins, the various factions had truly fallen into a disagreement. None of them were willing to bow to another.

If words couldn’t settle their disputes, then only fists could do it!

No one knew who was the first to take off the boot on their shoe and throw it, but the next second, an amusing fight broke out in the room.

“Lord Snorlax...Lord Snorlax...this isn’t good. Stop it, all of you! Lord Snorlax has died!” The priest that had been taking care of Snorlax bent over, only to discover to her surprise that the first goblin of the Crimson Clan had taken his last breath.

“Alright! Enough! You ugly fools...leave Lord Snorlax with the last shred of his dignity! If you want to argue and fight, feel free to do so in the hall outside! Now, get out! All of you!” Locke, who had been watching the whole mess coldly from the sidelines, finally stood up and shouted in anger. He tapped his staff, and a blinding elementium glow engulfed his entire person. The goblins, who were tangled together in a mess while biting each others’ arms and pulling at each others’ noses, finally stopped.

“Let us all leave!” Blackwing also stood up. “Let’s first talk about what we should do for Lord Snorlax’s final rites. The rest can wait until later.”

Having said that, he walked out of the room ahead of everyone else.

The other goblins looked at each other. They had no choice but to put down their fists, tidy up their clothes, and walk out of the room one by one.

Soon, only the priest and Adept Locke remained in the room, along with the dead Sage Snorlax.

“My lord, are you not leaving?” The elven priest looked at Locke curiously.

Locke shook his head but did not give her a reply. Instead, he bowed respectfully at a corner of the room and said, “Lady Mary, I have driven them out of the room, as per your instructions!”

Lady Mary? The Lady Mary? The Bloody Queen who was the ruler of the massive Crimson Clan and the de facto leader of the Central Lands?

The First Grade elven priest couldn’t help but stare with wide-open eyes as a pretty and slender figure appeared out of thin air.

There was probably no one who could have guessed Mary’s horrifying identity just from her appearance, let alone figure out the fact that she was an ultra-powerhouse whose very name invoked fear.

It was a young woman with slender limbs and incomparable beauty!

Her skin was flawlessly smooth and white, and her face was so perfect that you could lose yourself gazing at it. Her small, red lips were pursed together, and there seemed to be a faint yet charming smile that always hung on the corners of her mouth. Her youthful and explosive figure would catch anyone’s eyes. The body under that dragon leather armor was curvaceous, and much of her white skin could be seen.

A pair of equally pretty black wings beat behind her back, further amplifying the wild beauty and seductiveness of the woman.

Mary’s gaze landed on the old and rotten body of Snorlax the moment she appeared.

She hovered silently above Snorlax and simply gazed at him like that. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking.

It seems like Lady Mary had come here to say her farewells to Snorlax.

Locke couldn’t help but surmise. He made a look with his eyes and indicated for the priest to leave with him, such that Lady Mary could be alone.

However, the female priest clearly couldn’t endure the faint blood aura around Mary. Her entire body went limp. Even lifting a single finger was impossibly difficult for the priest now, let alone walking away!

First Grade and peak Fourth Grade. The difference between the two was simply too large!

It was so immense that the priest felt genuine fear and horror in her soul, even when Mary restrained her energy aura as best she could. The priest’s soul had gone numb, as if she had just seen the world’s most terrifying predator. Her muscles were frozen, and she could not move in the slightest.

If she remained by Mary’s side for too long, she might just die of fright!

“There’s no need to leave. You can stay!”

Mary’s seductive voice rang out in the room. She reached out with her hand, and a faint soul floated out of Snorlax’s body.

Typically, a soul would dissipate very rapidly after death.

However, Snorlax had attained advanced Second Grade prior to his death. As such, his soul was much clearer and more resilient than an ordinary being’s.

Snorlax’s soul stood confused in the air when he was pulled out of his body. He remained stunned for a moment before he recognized Mary.

“Lady Mary, I can’t go on any longer. I will have to leave you now. Snorlax bids you farewell here!” Snorlax’s soul kneeled in midair and kowtowed at Mary. He cried, “Lady Mary, being able to meet you and Lord Greem in this life was the greatest honor of Snorlax...please, bid farewell to Lord Greem for me when you see him next time!”

Mary couldn’t help but sigh when she heard this.

“You little fellow. It seems like you are fated to a whole life of fortune! I finally understand now why that bastard suddenly gave me something as valuable as that. Hmph! This is wasted on you.”

Having said that, Mary reached out with her hand and took out something, which she tossed toward Snorlax’s soul.

It was a suffocatingly beautiful ball of golden light. A winding golden thread swam within the ball.

For some reason, when Adept Locke’s eyes fell upon this golden thread, his breath stopped for a moment. His entire body stiffened, and his very soul trembled in excitement.

Take it...take it...take it.

Locke’s entire being burst with desire for that golden thread. It was fortunate that he still retained his rationality, but it took him all his power to keep himself from doing something impulsive.

What was that thing? Why did it tempt him so?

Locke couldn’t help but marvel!