Capítulo 49: chapter 44
Chapter 95: The wonderful use of paper cranes
Chapter 185 The Magical Use of Thousand Paper Cranes
"Are you a favored one by God?"
She knows about my relationship with "Secret"!
The strange witch's soft and melodious voice almost made Klein scream out in fright, but after thinking about it carefully, he regained his calm thinking state.
The Seven Gods tried their best to erase the records of "secrets" in every land they could. Even the secret organizations that were less affected by them found it difficult to keep too many secrets in the harsh environment. Xin, historical materials.
She said that I was favored by God, did she regard the God behind me as the real Creator?
Ha, in a sense, that's right... Klein moved his fingers, and the rat that was crawling on a fresh corpse on the street in search of food suddenly stiffened. Without any resistance, it was transformed into a marionette.
Not long ago, his existence was an absolute secret of the Aurora Society, and only important members of the vampire family knew about it. Now that the witch can come to the door and reveal one of his identities, the "original witch" definitely contributed to it.
The true God whom the witch believed in saw him up close and saw his spirit.
The "Original Witch" mistook me for "Mystery" at first. Later, when she saw the true Creator coming with the angels from the southern continent, she regarded me as a favored person who played a key role in the recovery of "Mystery".
Because He himself was stopped by the true Creator, so He issued an oracle and asked his followers to kill me?
First, the witch angel whom Mr. Azik met, and then this lady... It should be said that she is worthy of being a witch. She is really vicious and stingy. She cares about me, a young man who is only fifty years old in two lifetimes... Klein is here. With the help of the sealed object, I decided to give the bright and holy woman a little misleading.
He retreated as far as possible in the opposite direction of the witch, allowing the Marionette to speak.
"Are you a demigod from the Witch Sect?"
"You should know that if it weren't for my curiosity, I could have killed you just now. I know where you are." The woman in a simple white robe laughed and said, "Never forget to play the role. You are indeed an outstanding person." 'Master of Secret Puppetry', he just doesn't have enough experience."
"A non-native believer from Loen who is not from the Secret Order?"
It sounds like she is very familiar with the Secret Order, and she is not that hostile to the believers of the True Creator, unlike their god... Klein tightened the palms in his pockets, deliberately showing stubbornness.
"I'm asking, what should I call you?"
In the choking smell of rust, the strange fresh and elegant fragrance is getting heavier and heavier, vaguely overpowering the weight of chemicals and diseases in the air, and combined with the soft voice, it always makes people inexplicably feel happy talking to each other. , put down your guard, give up worldly morality, and completely let go of the urge to embrace each other physically and mentally.
The witch's charm, is she actively influencing me?
No, it's not like that. It's true that I have been exposed to many high-level images either indirectly or directly, but if a real demigod wanted to influence me, I wouldn't have a chance to resist... This was just her inadvertent decision. The passive effect of time release?
The witch's charm is so powerful after being a demigod? Klein shook his head and frowned slightly.
"It's really rough."
The bright and somewhat lazy woman raised her hand to lift her hair, making her small and delicate hair more conspicuous.
"My name is Panatia, you can also call me 'Desperate Nightingale'."
"What about you, Mr. God's Favored One?"
The long-dead marionette had deep purple-black spots all over its body, and it fell straight backwards. The spiritual thread that controlled its movement was also broken on the spot.
"Desperate Nightingale" Panatia looked at the direction where Klein was hiding, playing with a palm-sized dressing mirror in her hand, her smart eyes narrowed little by little, and she waited for a while before speaking.
"Continuing to ignore women's issues is not in keeping with the qualities of a true gentleman."
"Mr. God's Favored One, I originally thought that you and your boring colleagues should be different."
"After all, you are from Loen. This is a country of gentlemen, isn't it?"
Unfortunately, Klein, who was hiding behind the corner of the street and about to withdraw from the street, still did not respond to Panatia's intention.
The "water waves" are rippling in the exquisite and compact dressing mirror, and the fantastic colors are constantly changing. The dense spider threads are pulling the black flames, stirring around, like tentacles rummaging for things.
As the last bit of black flame was extinguished, the "Desperate Nightingale" who had gained nothing showed a smile.
She looked up again and looked in the direction where the "faceless man" was trying to escape. Her slender white fingers were hanging in the air and she pressed down gently. Several inconspicuous red marks appeared on her fingertips.
"Don't be like this. It would be better for you and me to be more enthusiastic."
Panatia sighed and smiled, twitching her fingers and moving forward without making a sound, like a feather floating in the air.
Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough!
In an instant, Klein's legs were weak as he was about to snap his fingers and jump out of the block. He fell down involuntarily. He held his throat with one hand and coughed crazily. His eyes were bloodshot and red.
Invisible threads emerged from the air and quickly moved towards Klein, as if they were about to overlap into a web and tie him into a cocoon made of silk threads.
Damn it, Gostars' influence on me, the wounds that hadn't healed yet recurred... Blood overflowed from Klein's lips.
He covered his mouth and nose with his palms in a futile attempt to slow down the frequency of coughing. Indescribable severe pain kept coming from his chest. He almost fell to the ground and couldn't even use the most basic "Fire Jump".
In his increasingly blurred vision, he saw pure white robes, a pair of straight and slender long legs, and the "Desperate Nightingale" Panadia whose face was hidden behind the haze.
The silk thread was wrapped around his ankles, first binding Klein's lower body. The concentration of the disease around him was getting heavier and heavier. Even the "creeping hunger" that drove the soul of the "Priest of Light" to maintain the sacred aura dimmed, and it was difficult to emit any more. Pure warm light.
"It would be better for you and me to be more enthusiastic."
Panatia's bright face gradually became clear in the haze. She looked at Klein, who was holding an origami prop commonly used by "magicians" in his right hand and holding it on the ground, and covering his mouth and nose with his left hand. He stopped two or three meters in front of Klein and remained alert.
The flowing "water waves" in the dressing mirror ebb and flow, but nothing new appears in the mirror image.
Klein noticed the obvious purpose of the sealed object in the hands of "Desperate Nightingale". He gritted his teeth and his face turned purple from holding it in. He swallowed the urge to cough and asked in a relatively coherent language:
"Are you afraid of Zaratul?"
Panatia withdrew her gaze from the dressing mirror for a moment, and her tone did not fluctuate much.
"Friedrich Zaratul is your patron angel?"
Noticing Klein's surprised look, Panatia felt a little happy.
"You are nothing like Him. His Highness is a lively and funny gentleman who always respects ladies."
"He is in a little trouble. If you are expecting Him to save you now, you might as well choose to pray to your Lord."
Zaratul was indeed in trouble... More blood spilled from the corners of Klein's mouth, and with every word he spoke, more crimson flowed down his chin.
"Ahem, I remember that Zaratul and I left Red Rose Manor at the same time..."
"Really?" Panatia was a little surprised.
"It seems that His Highness is in bigger trouble than I thought."
It's a pity that she failed to reveal more information. She just exclaimed and changed the topic after a brief taste.
While paying attention to the changes on the dressing mirror, she stretched out her palm and pointed it at Klein on the ground. Panatia changed the subject.
"Thanks to the devils, my mission has been exceeded."
The witch had a relaxed smile on her face. As her white palms tightened, the spider threads wrapped around Klein gradually tightened. The flow of spirituality in more parts of his body was blocked, and he gradually lost consciousness.
Her goal was not to kill me, but to take me away... Klein coughed violently again.
If there was still the lingering impression of making insinuations to determine the situation just now, now the cobwebs are about to wrap around his hands, and the last chance of escape is passing by little by little before his eyes.
The "original witch" definitely didn't want me to hold a tea party, she just wanted to target the "secret" behind me.
Oh, at the end of the Fourth Age, the True Creator and the "God of Mystery" joined forces. These two friends who ushered in the glorious age joined forces to fight against the crazy God of Death and defeated the alliance between the Emperor of Hades and the "Original Witch".
How long has it been? Why is He still holding a grudge? If he wants revenge, he will go to the older generation. Why are you looking for me... Klein was amused by his own thoughts.
His top priority now is not to think about these things, but how to escape.
The right hand on the ground was loosened a little, and more white was exposed between the fingers.
Klein held a corner of the origami and looked at "Desperate Nightingale" with a hint of pleading in his eyes.
"I can go with you."
Panatya raised her eyebrows strangely.
"I have never heard of apostasy among God's Favored, especially followers of the True Creator."
"Shouldn't you all be the type who can sacrifice everything for your beliefs?"
This is what a normal member of the Aurora Society looks like... Klein rubbed his fingers and a wry smile appeared on his lips.
"You seem to not have a thorough understanding of God's Favored Ones."
"Not everyone has the opportunity to choose their own destiny."
"Choose?" Panatia looked at Klein with a much strange smile.
There are still people complaining that they have been favored by gods?
However...she recalled the time before she became a witch, and the light in her eyes dropped a little bit. She shook her head, unwilling to argue with Klein on this issue.
The speed of the spider silk winding increased, and crystal frost began to appear on the body parts of the "faceless man" that had been wrapped by the spider silk. Thick layers of ice condensed near the thighs and waist and abdomen, white frost deposited, and the temperature dropped sharply.
Emotions such as jealousy and pity became more and more intense. Panatia tightened her five fingers and the red marks on her fingertips, which were pulling the silk thread, became more obvious.
"You..."
"I..." Klein sighed, and a small stream of flames appeared between the fingers of his right hand, igniting a corner of the origami.
Snapped.
Before he finished speaking, the sound of cracking spider silk was inaudible in the wind, and the emotions of surprise and fear suddenly amplified on the face of "Desperate Nightingale".
Her figure disappeared in an instant, retreating back to a position ten meters away from Klein.
In the smart and wet eyes, orange-red flames burned quietly, and a silvery shadow with countless mysterious symbols on its tail slowly rotated. The "faceless man" stood up unsteadily after blurring the outline of the giant snake.
The scaleless tail pumped the air, crushing the invisible plague. The giant snake raised its head and faced the dilated pupils of "Desperate Nightingale" Panadia.
His eyes are bright red and cold, and his whole body is covered with mysterious patterns and symbols, with countless wheels that are different in detail.
"Snake of Destiny"!
Sequence 1 of the "Destiny" path, "Snake of Mercury" Will Asceptin.
The last time they met, He had hinted to Klein that he could seek His help when necessary.
Although the "Snake of Mercury" with mysterious origins has clearly expressed his unwillingness to participate in the game between gods, Klein has no other choice at this time but to place his hope in his choice.
Fortunately, "Mercury Snake" Will Asceptin answered Klein's prayer!
He used the paper crane left in Klein's hand as an anchor to descend directly on this neighborhood, and also brought a certain amount of luck.
At this time, the huge mercury snake phantom formed, and its scarlet eyes scanned the direction of the "Desperate Nightingale" with disdain. There was anger, repulsion, and more of an undisguised hostility.
He turned back to warn Klein with his eyes, opened his mouth and bit his own tail, turning it into an unpredictable and exaggerated ring.
Suddenly, the heavy haze lost its ability to easily cause death, the yellowish color and rust quickly faded away, UU Reading www. uukanshu．net spider silk and ice collapsed, Klein no longer felt pain in his chest, blood surged in his throat, and regained control of his extraordinary abilities. Panatia also quickly retreated under this irresistible force, returning to the beginning. origin.
The "Snake of Mercury" restarted time in this area, and everything returned to its original state.
"It's more complicated than you think. There's no more help. Survive and come see me."
The childlike voice and the figure of the scaleless snake disappeared together. Klein ignored the meaning of Will Asceptin's words and without hesitation swapped places with the paper man double and jumped into the flames. , trying to escape as fast as he could.
Panatia just returned to the end of the street, not banished from reality. With the ability of the witch demigod, she confirmed that after Will Auceptin left, she could catch up with her again in the blink of an eye, not to mention that this was still in the city. Within the radiation range of her plague!
Orange-red flames exploded wildly alternately, each time separated by at least tens of meters.
However, just as Klein predicted, after he had withdrawn more than four hundred meters, a holy and simple pure white robe appeared in his field of vision.
The bright-faced "Desperate Nightingale" Panatia floated in the air, with countless transparent silk threads under her feet forming a network, covering all the trees and houses below, covering half of the street.
Will Auceptin only gave Klein a chance to survive, but did not help him escape from death!
The spider silk grabbed the corner of Klein's clothes again. In contrast, a dark and deep spiritual light also extended along the street and struck at high speed.
It's so rare to update this early after a long absence.
Finally, I would like to ask for recommendations and monthly tickets, please.
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Chapter 96 Go to sleep, Klein Moretti
Chapter 186 Go to sleep, Klein Moretti
Wow...
The waves on the wave between reality and illusion are weak but resist the hearts of every living being present, signaling the coming of judgment.
The shadows boiled, the fire suddenly lit up, and the straight broad sword set off a wave of darkness, hitting the direction where the "Witch of Despair" was standing, tearing apart the smog and poisonous gas, with a deep aura that could corrupt the soul, and the exaggerated broad sword instantly expanded its numbers. It seemed to cover the sky, falling at a high speed, and was about to bury the entire land.
Panatia's figure was shattered into pieces of crystal in the strong wind and waves and the majestic depths of the ocean. This process obviously only took a few seconds, but the broken mirror seemed to have spent a thousand years, and all the parts stained with pitch black They all quickly decayed and degenerated, either turning into steam and rising, melting with the disease floating in the air, or condensing into droplets and scattering on the earth, awakening more shadows to stretch out, blocking the possibility of the witch's escape.
Almost at the same time, the pure white figure that still remained in Klein's retina appeared on the other side of the street, in front of a shop with huge glass windows.
"Desperate Nightingale's" loosely rolled hair burst open and stabbed in several directions at the same time.
Snapped!
Although he couldn't figure out who saved him, the moment he saw the "Shepherd" demigod's signature ability appear, Klein snapped his fingers, performed the stand-in and flame jump in one go, and once again escaped from the shackles of the witch's spider silk, only to A rust-covered and dilapidated paper figure was left in the cocoon that was about to take shape.
Within the black and white field of vision, several spiritual threads trembled unnaturally. Klein, who was embracing the flames and jumping into the distance, had an eyelid twitch, and he instantly understood.
For a moment, the next stream of red fire leaping upward was interrupted, and the "faceless man" with a damaged windbreaker jumped out, his right hand shimmering with light, and his five fingers moved quickly and flexibly.
The two "soothsayers" hiding under different bunkers had a tacit division of labor, and each selected half of the illusory threads connecting Panatia.
Wearing a half-high silk top hat, a black windbreaker with a long hem, and a seamless formal suit of the same color, Jerry Zaratul, standing on the top of a house, glanced at Klein, turned his palms, and accelerated his mastery of the spiritual thread.
At the same time, Panatia, who felt that her thoughts were slowly slipping towards sluggishness, was strangely stunned in place.
It's not that she doesn't want to resist, but that she is fighting another battle.
Her jewel-like eyes seemed to hide mirrors after mirrors, reflecting one after another delicate figures with complicated palace dresses, blond hair and blue eyes. They were superimposed on each other and fell into temporary chaos. They kept moving through the mirrors, trying to find the right one. entrance.
The battlefield fell into a stalemate for a while.
Wow...
The waves that echoed in the hearts of the creatures gradually subsided, and the cloak, as dark as the waves, slipped from the apostle's back and neck, and returned to darkness together with the curtain.
The armor on his body disintegrated, and his body size shrunk by two circles. Mr. A still held the straight and exaggerated broad sword. The blood in his eyes shrank and changed, scarlet faded away from dark purple, and the ferocious horn crown and black-purple scales emerged from his eyes. A growth appeared on the woman's still beautiful face, and as the cuticles closed, Mr. A now looked exactly like the real murderer of Duke Negan.
In his "demon" form, viscous liquid was constantly dripping from his body. A pair of deep purple compound eyes moved with the changes in the contents of the countless mirrors in Panatia's eyes. At the moment when the delicate figure was highlighted, his mouthparts opened, He spat out a strange and strange syllable.
"slow."
The invisible realm opens, and the "blasphemy" resonates subtly with the breath escaping from the ritual leading to the "abyss" contained in the haze. The frequency of mirror changes in Panatia's gem-like eyes, a The demigod-level witch's control over the mirror actually showed flaws under the influence of several Sequence Fives.
The overlapping and chaotic figures in her eyes were no longer illusory, but were truly imprinted on the top of her pupils, blocking the light of thinking flowing from the center of her eyeballs.
Sharon, who was wearing a complicated palace dress with blond hair and blue eyes, had a painful expression and involuntarily arched her waist. It was obvious that even with the help of her companions, the burden of controlling a demigod was unbearable for her.
Several people looked at each other and made a decision in silence.
Mr. A did not hesitate, his fingers landed on the illusory book that appeared in front of him, and he quickly flipped through the pages, choosing the appropriate demigod-level extraordinary ability to hit "Desperate Nightingale" hard.
Jerry Zaratul and Klein were also prepared. The former pulled out the revolver he carried with him, loaded the bullet, and a fiery pure aura brewed at the muzzle. The latter gathered gold in his left palm, and two lightning bolts appeared in his eyes. .
However, before the three of them were ready to attack, black flames suddenly burned on the edges of Panatia's dull eyeballs.
As the mirrors in the eye holes shattered, countless black hairs and invisible transparent threads rose up from the witch's back, forming an exaggerated spider web, which was pushed in all directions, wrapping up Klein and others.
"snort!"
Panatya's expression didn't change at all, she just made a sound from her nose.
Suddenly, whether it was the mirror in the illusory world or the thick and long hair and illusory threads in reality, deep and quiet black flames sprang up at the same time. They used spirituality as fuel to burn enemies or incite epidemics.
A violent cough sounded. Before the bullet was discharged, Jerry Zaratul could no longer hold the revolver in his hand. His legs became weak and he knelt on the ground. The collision between his knees and the ground made a crisp sound that sent chills down his back. ring.
Klein didn't know whether it was due to the blessing of luck or the intimidation of the "Snake of Mercury". Panadia deliberately left a glimmer of hope and did not completely lose the opportunity to drive his extraordinary ability like Jerry Zaratul. He snapped his fingers and used The paper man endured most of the diseases, while the real body appeared in the distance where the air flow surged, barely avoiding it.
Mr. A endured the witch's greatest malice. More than half of his body's flesh and blood melted, and his lower body disappeared. He lay limp on the floor, like a sea fish with its tail cut off. He relied solely on willpower to stay awake, driving the grazing "traveller" to construct an unknown world. Can the extraordinary ability be reproduced? A pair of hands that seemed to be pushing open the door were cut off by an invisible force at the elbow, and blood flowed.
"The 'Wraith' of the Rose School of Thought?"
"I thought you were the secret puppet of some 'Secret Puppet Master'."
Panatia grabbed Sharon's throat and admired the delicate and unreal face twisted in pain. The bad mood after being humiliated suddenly improved a lot.
While increasing the strength of her fingers, she looked at Mr. A's ability to reproduce through "recording".
It was an illusive and hazy door with many mysterious symbols engraved on it.
It is completely dark, like the night, with countless small hollow parts distributed on the door, like a dim and faded starry sky, waiting to be awakened by the owner.
There is no doubt that this is a "calling door".
Among the divine envoys of the Aurora Society, except for those who practice asceticism, the others are more or less deeply bound to the military and political affairs of the Trunsoest Empire. Naturally, they are familiar with the emperor's mother clan and the blood clan who also need to complete their obligations.
This "Summoning Door" is the ability that Mr. A recorded from a vampire demigod with whom he has a good relationship.
Unlike other vampire abilities that are closely related to the state of the body, the essence of the "Summoning Door" is the deepening of prayer. It is a two-way channel connecting the caller and the person receiving prayer. Once it is formed, it is difficult to interrupt unless the door is destroyed. .
The black flames fueled by spirituality spread on the surface of the frost spear. Panatia's hand locked on Sharon's neck did not relax, and the other free hand gently pushed forward, sending out the sharp spear. .
This spear passed through the air, as if it were wandering in an uninhabited land, without any hindrance.
Mr. A collapsed on the ground and lost all his limbs. He watched the spear getting closer and closer to the door, but there was nothing he could do.
However, he was not depressed, but closed his eyes, as if he could not bear to face the failure of the attempt.
The ice spear cut through the haze. Wherever it went, hoarfrost condensed and sealed the world. However, the "Summoning Door" was not frozen in layers of crystals like normal development. Instead, it was the frost spear that came into contact with the door. In an instant, the sharp tip disintegrated silently, disappearing bit by bit until it completely dissolved into the night.
The door, which exudes a sense of tranquility, stands in mid-air. There is no spiritual flow or any strange changes in the scattered star-like hollows. They are just quietly embedded there.
wrong!
Mr. A's attempt has been successful!
Without any hesitation, Panatia let go of the hand that was holding the "Wraith Soul", used her feet to exert force, and used the recoil to rush backwards at high speed, trying to escape from the area by throwing herself into the glass windows of the storefronts on both sides of the street. .
She was not without doubts about this sudden situation, but after witnessing the phantom of the "Mercury Snake" that had just appeared and then completely disappeared, she had long since given up following the instructions of the "Black Saint" and brought back the truth. Thoughts of those favored by the Creator God.
If she admits it correctly, that giant snake without scales and with a silvery white color is the most powerful angel under the true Creator, the king of angels who only exist in the world, the "Angel of Destiny" and the "Tailor". The papal regent of the Second Empire of Trunsoest—Uroleus!
In fact, she wanted to run away the moment she saw the giant snake appear. If the giant snake had not disappeared inexplicably and there was no extra angel-level power coming, she would have placed her hope in the "Angel of Destiny" Uroliu Si would not break the thousand-year tacit understanding between the northern and southern continents and start a war rashly for a so-called God's Favorite, and she would not be tempted by the identity of God's Favorite and stay in Backlund.
But now, no matter what is behind the "Summoning Gate" that invests the corresponding power, it is enough to prove that the believers of the True Creator really have no brains.
Are you kidding me? Do they really want to go to war with the Seven Gods for a favored person?
What is the identity of that "faceless man"?
When Ourolius came to Backlund, did he want to challenge the authority of the "tyrant" and the "night"?
With confused thoughts and countless speculations, the flustered "Witch of Despair" had not really touched the dirty glass that was only one meter away from her. Her body strangely stopped moving forward, froze in place, and trembled involuntarily. .
At this moment, "Desperate Nightingale" Panatia, who was determined to escape, actually froze in place.
The door that was as peaceful as night was still dead silent. A gap opened in the middle of the closed door, revealing a female face with beautiful and soft outlines hidden behind the illusory black ribbon.
Like a quiet night, He silently stared at the incapacitated Panatia. The ribbon around his body slid silently and flowed out from the hollowed-out details on the door. Like a snake, it clung to the ground, hiding the haze. The plague was hidden and wrapped around Panatia's body along the ankles under the pure white robe.
The wind flowing in countless dark nights, combined with the silk threads extending from the dreamland, kneaded into thick tentacles, and combined with the ribbons, dragged the statue-like "Witch of Despair" into the "Summoning Gate".
The whole process didn't make a sound.
Of course, it may be that the voices have been concealed... Looking around, Klein noticed that whether it was Jerry Zaratul who was severely injured by the plague, Sharon who just fell into the hands of the witch, or A who had his limbs broken off Sir, your condition is much better now.
Although the expressions on their faces were different, their soothing breathing was enough to prove that they, like him, had recognized the person behind the door through guesswork or purely cognitive confirmation.
If there are no other angels of the "Sleepless One" path under the true Creator... The sister of the ancestor of the Antigonus family, the former leader of the "Kingdom of Night" in the Fourth Age, the "Mother of Heaven" Fran Fregra ?
"Your Highness." Mr. A confirmed Klein's suspicion.
He struggled to support his upper body with his broken elbow, trying hard to make a humble gesture and salute the angel behind the door.
However, the angel behind the door did not respond, and I don't know if it was an illusion. The starry night sky surrounding him, composed of ribbons and tentacles, became much thinner, making his blurry and beautiful outline a little clearer.
He looked at Klein vaguely, and then to everyone's surprise, he stretched out his palm timidly.
This, what does this mean?
Seeing the white palms about to completely open the door, UU read www. uukanshu.net Freed from the shackles of the spirit world, Klein's heart stopped for an inexplicable second.
An indescribable feeling of nostalgia surged into my heart, and then, the familiar fatigue, captured by the "Nightmare" ability, and my thoughts sank into tranquility spread along the brain to the limbs.
Then, he saw that his body seemed to turn into a pencil drawing, starting from the fingertips, disappearing into the air inch by inch, and his eyes were completely plunged into darkness.
…
On the outskirts of Backlund, a secret mausoleum is being built underground.
After completing another theft, Amon played with the sealed object in his hand that was almost shattered, and looked at one of the "visitors" in front of him with an extremely complicated smile.
That was a priest.
He was wearing simple robes and had a pale golden beard. What remained unchanged on his face were the eyes as clear as a baby and a slight smile.
The priest's eyes swept over William Augustus who carefully moved to his side and George III in the shadow. He smiled and looked at Amon, who was standing opposite him. He treated his children as kindly as a father, but lacked the normal affection of parents to their children. Anger at the time of disobedient behavior is only dull and pure imitation of pampering and generosity.
Adam, the nominal eldest son of the Creator, the "angel of fantasy", nodded slightly to his "younger brother" and said with a smile:
"Give me that pen."
Klein is temporarily offline...
Now the situation is getting worse. His identity as Sherlock has been completely exposed. He wants to avoid the limelight, just to let him digest it and make it easier for Zhenzo to wipe his ass.
Next is the stage for the princes and princes of the Fourth Age, and then the second volume officially ends.
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Chapter 97 The sun also rises
Chapter 187 The sun also rises
"Amon, hand me that pen."
The familiar generous voice, the familiar politeness that cannot be faulted, the familiar calmness and casualness, as if all changes and developments are under control...
Familiar, disgusting... Amon turned away his face, not wanting to look at the priest whose eyes were as clear as a baby's. He twitched the corners of his mouth, found his state, raised his eyebrows a little and said:
"As soon as I heard your voice, I didn't want to cooperate. So, you give way and let the little guys hiding behind you come over, and I'll talk to them."
"Alsuhod's legacy is not necessary for them." Adam shook his head, ignoring Amon's little emotion, "In the process of awakening the Creator, the last 'writer' characteristic is necessary... "
"Which creator?" Amon adjusted his monocle, his smile becoming more dangerous.
He didn't give Adam a chance to argue, and said more forcefully.
"I'm not an old-fashioned person like you. I like to try new things and challenge unknown areas that I haven't touched before."
"Well, how's it going?"
"Expand the plan and talk about it. I was too stubborn in the past. Now let me listen to your ideas."
"Maybe I'll help you."
It is still very beneficial to have an elder on the "divineer" path. If he hadn't been with the top "clown" for so many years, it would be difficult for Amon not to doubt that after he confirmed his guess, he would see Adam again like this. Will you do it on the spot?
Not necessarily. After all, in addition to his good uncle who had been paralyzed for many years and also deceived him, his colleagues in the Tudor Empire also helped him a lot in this regard... and maybe Medici?
Amon was not too careless and silently praised Bethel Abraham who was far away in the world, Antigonus who was always bullied by him in the past, and even the nanny Roman, but there was no "Red Angel" Medici .
"We can cooperate, but not on my plan." Adam obviously failed to understand Amon's feelings and said to himself, "Pales Zoroaster accidentally broke into my script some time ago. I can help you keep Him."
For an "audience" at his level, it is almost instinctive to see into other people's thoughts, and there is no possibility of failure. It just depends on whether you are willing to make compromises and face it with an attitude of equality rather than extreme ego.
"It sounds like a familiar deal, but the last time we collaborated, neither the ending nor my collaborator was very satisfactory."
His right hand clenched into a fist was placed under the crystal lens. Amon's lips barely moved when he spoke, as if he was holding back certain emotions.
"You should know that they will not sit back and let you successfully complete your little plan. Is it because of your cooperation with Heiye that Alsuhod can escape?"
"Are you sure he doesn't regard you as part of the plan? His relationship with Octopus Head is quite intriguing."
Amon intentionally or unintentionally exposed quite shocking information. William Augustus, who was waiting behind Adam, and George III, who was hiding in the shadows, both showed surprised expressions and looked at each other. Apparently they had never heard of this before. any limelight.
Of course, this is not difficult to understand. On the contrary, William Augustus, who experienced the tail of the Quaternary Period, quickly figured out the joints.
The master in the depths of the "Deep Dark Heaven" has never revealed his true position. Everything is guided by interests. He supports a new, more powerful and rational true god to come to power. He is indeed easier to get along with than a "tyrant" who likes to talk. many.
What's more, this new true god candidate is not alone. Whether it is his brother who has been estranged from him for thousands of years but always cooperates with him at critical moments, or his father who seems to have broken up, they all play a decisive role in the final competition.
Who knows whether the thousands of years after the Third Age will be another drama conceived by the Creator, just to wait for the right time to come and avoid the most dangerous period of limelight.
"I can't see through the night's thoughts, but you don't have to worry about me."
Regarding Amon's speculation, Adam neither denied nor agreed, but just dealt with it with vague answers.
"What about 'The Hanged Man'?" Amon glanced at the corner that was blocked by the rock. "It seems that he has regained his consciousness for the first time, and is now nostalgic about the storm on the outskirts of Backlund."
"The Hanged Man and I have another tacit understanding. Besides, his reason is temporary. Most of the time, he is just a cover to attract attention for me."
Adam's eyes when he looked at Amon were still warm, calm and tolerant, as if he were looking at a child who was having trouble.
He spoke with a calm voice and an exhortation tone.
"You wasted a considerable amount of time on the lost value of the Eastern Continent, and missed a lot of useful and fatal information. This made you not see the current situation thoroughly enough, resulting in many wrong perceptions."
"Just like my father acquiesced in the 'Redemption Rose' back then, what you vaguely guessed is the current trend of the times and is the only way to success."
"For the right future, we always need to sacrifice something less important, like the past."
Adam stretched out his palm again, his smile unchanged and said:
"Give me that pen."
"past..."
Amon curled up the corners of his mouth, as if he wanted to respond with a smile, but in the end he said nothing.
His hand holding the quill became harder and harder, and scenes of the past flashed through his mind quickly, including the light that illuminated His world at the beginning of his birth, the Kingdom of Heaven in the glorious years, and the "Kingdom of Heaven" that was always tired but never shied away from Him. "Vice-General", there is the "God of Mystery" who rests on the sycamore tree, there is the stupid big snake, there is Medici who needs a beating... there is the father whose heaven collapsed, the earth split, and his blood boiled the sea when he died.
A somewhat vague voice sounded from the past.
"One generation passes by, and another comes, and the earth endures forever." (Note: Bible)
"I think the annotations in your father's sacred text are wrong."
"There is no shortage of vast land and minerals in the starry sky. They are unattended treasure troves. It's just that we may have to wait thousands of years, maybe hundreds of millions of years, before the creatures that use and mine them arrive."
"Then these are meaningless, just like the gems I bring back every time, they have no meaning until they return to the planet under our feet."
"Gemstones only become meaningful when they are passed into the hands of people who can use them to create value. In addition, whether it is the process of waiting to be mined or the death and bloodshed fighting for it, what is meaningful is the process. , not a gem."
"The Gate of Gates," says the alien among the mythical creatures.
It was an ordinary afternoon in the Fourth Age. Bethel Abraham had just finished a long trip and invited his colleagues to meet and express some mundane emotions that were boring for mythical creatures.
I remember that at that time, Duke Abraham, whose black hair was mixed with a small amount of white, was like a fallen philosopher, and finally made some extremely boring remarks.
"The point from which people approach advancement and civilization, and which door people pass through to enter a better future, is a major difference. The process of history often makes certain turning points and nodes become extremely dazzling. They The value of "The World" lies less in the value created by the turns than in the meaning of the costs paid in these turns to the living."
"Those are great anchors for us."
Pushing the boring memories out of his head, Amon's expression changed. He looked at the shimmering slit on the quill, keeping a smile but saying nothing.
The atmosphere was tense, the earthly emperor hiding in the shadows was ready to move, and even the archangel who had retired for many years could not contain his inner anxiety.
"Angel of Time" Amon is recognized as an unstable bomb. The longer he stays here, the easier it is to cause changes and disrupt the shaky plan that was already destroyed by the "original witch" and the true creator.
It's okay that the two crazy brothers have reached an agreement, but if Amon's bad character irritated Adam, the playful dispute between the brothers would be enough to destroy the entire tomb!
"All right."
Finally, Amon held up his crystal-ground monocle, said "tsk" like Medici, and relaxed his tone.
He held the pen of Alsuhod with his palm open and handed it to Adam sincerely.
"Let's play a game."
Amon glanced at George III and William Augustus, who were about to lose their patience, and nodded with a smile.
"You can get involved too."
"Fair competition, the principle of proximity. I only have one person, and you have three. We are the party with the absolute advantage in terms of the number of all competitors. This rule is very fair to you."
Adam looked at his brother, and Amon was also waiting for his statement.
"OK."
The repulsive force warmed up to the limit in the shortest time, and the power of rules blocked the occurrence of trickery. Adam still looked the same, as clear and generous as a mask, and walked towards Amon's hand hanging in the air.
"It seems you have thought about it."
Seeing that his "brother's" expression remained unchanged, without even a hint of hesitation, Amon's smile suddenly disappeared.
He suddenly retracted his hand, his eyes piercing Adam's face coldly, and the monocle in his right eye flashed a slight light.
"Leodro."
Before Adam could take that step, the closed mausoleum was overwhelmed by the ocean of clouds. Countless lightnings were swimming in it, spreading their teeth and claws, expanding wantonly. The thick leaden clouds seemed to envelope the entire mausoleum in a world of thunder.
The earth trembled, thunder rolled through the clouds, and made a rumbling sound. The majesty of the "tyrant" ruthlessly tore apart the self-esteem of the Augustus people. The so-called order and ambition are nothing in the face of absolute power. Laughing child's play.
A rough middle-aged face vaguely emerged in the sea of thunder. He glanced at Amon who summoned him in slight surprise, and then without any hesitation, he stabbed out the silver trident in his hand. The giant ball lightning was wrapped with a speed comparable to The particles of light filled the entire mausoleum the moment they appeared. With destruction and absolute heat, they evaporated the stones and mountains that built the mausoleum. The entire pyramid-shaped building collapsed and shattered in the storm. Angels are no exception.
It is no coincidence that the "tyrant" will come quickly. The real creator of Red Rose Manor is just a projection, and Adam in the mausoleum is a part of the real "angel of fantasy", even if it does not contain characteristics!
In the thunderstorm, tiny cracks appeared on the edge of Amon's crystal-ground monocle, but he did not panic. Instead, he kept smiling, holding on to the "writer" characteristic in his hand, and stood staring at his "brother" position, until the "virtual personality" was completely annihilated, and until George III and William Augustus fled back to the center of Backlund, they collapsed and disappeared like phantoms, preparing to leave.
He endured the pain of the thunder burning his spirit body, supported his body and turned his neck. Before leaving, he looked at the Storm Lord whose face was blurred by Lei Yun, smiled and bowed.
"Thanks."
Boom! ! !
The unprecedented silver hit the air and flattened a mountain range near Backlund.
…
"Amon?"
The spotless black wings slowly folded in, and the middle-aged man with a tired expression looked at the suddenly transferred sea of thunder, feeling a little confused.
Leodro left suddenly, gave up the stalemate with Him, and ran in the completely opposite direction.
"What happened? What did you and Amon say?"
"Sasril" turned his head and stared at the handsome and thin man who had just replaced the historical projection of Antigonus, his whole body hidden under his robe.
"I haven't met Him for a long time. It's Himself who is trying to find my whereabouts..." The "God of Mystery" admired the thorny jungle that dyed the sky silver, and paused for a moment, "And your original arrangement."
It's okay not to say it. After hearing this, "Saslier", who had finally escaped from madness and thought rationally for a few minutes, suddenly had the desire to bang his head on the ground and drive himself crazy again.
He rubbed his temples and pursed his lips in pain.
After a brief decision, "Saslier" refused to discuss this topic any further. After struggling for a while, he inevitably sighed and said:
"Forget it, this is His own choice."
"You should have respected your children's choices a long time ago, instead of taking all the decision-making power in your own hands and acting like a feudal patriarch." The "God of Mystery" shows no mercy to his friends.
He looked at the square inch of land under his feet that was incompatible with other places, raised his chin and said.
"Is this a new collection you prepared for yourself?"
The flames of conquest, the false magic, the projection of the starry sky, the baptism of thunder, and the shadows as deep as the years, different divine powers collided with each other, not only destroying the Red Rose Manor, the aftermath of the battle even touched the city of Backlund, the Queen On the edge of the district, many noble residences have either disappeared or been damaged to varying degrees.
However, under this situation, the Red Rose Manor, located in the center of the battlefield, still had intact buildings preserved.
He looked away from "Mystery" and shook his head slightly, "Sasril"... "The Hanged Man" put away the casualness when chatting with friends, and his expression was solemn and solemn.
"A dedicated soul weighs as much as a thousand pounds."
"What he has done, his character, and of course the important position he can represent in the world, are all worthy of my remaining dignity for him."
"It's a pity that the witch named Triss didn't leave a body." "Sasril" put a letter into the arms of the body, and UU Readingｗwｗ.uukanshu.net sighed again, "If she still While alive, I might consider accepting her as a model to screen out witches who still have the most basic human conscience."
"After all, every path is important to us before the end."
"Yeah?"
It's a pity that his friends don't take it seriously, and even have some disdain.
The "god of mystery" stole the natural law of corpse decay and said with a sarcastic smile.
"I hope you can forgive Farbuti easily the next time you see him."
As the two figures disappeared one after another, after a while, the hour of pain and despair finally ended. The sun, which was about to sink to the horizon, once again occupied the sky, facing the red moon across the mountain.
The setting sun melts gold, and many people who died silently are finally covered with golden decorations that they dare not ask for before leaving for heaven. The halo of the sun shines on each corpse, dispersing the paleness of death.
On the outskirts of Backlund, on the second floor of the main house of Red Rose Manor, the tea table in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows is still in its original state. It is placed on the top of a masonry peak that rises abruptly from the sunken earth, and its owner is leaning aside. , head resting on his arms, lying on the table.
Edsac Augustus held a letter stained red with blood in his hand. Half of his body was hanging off the table, swaying, facing the warm dusk, as if he was asleep.
I want to imitate the death of Mara, but the writing skills are too poor. I don't know how to describe it. Prince, let's just do it. The plot is enough, eh.
This chapter was written very slowly, and I needed to find a way to incorporate some of the Christian religious meaning into it. After all, this is Bai Zao's home field, and I was exhausted.
Finally, I would like to ask for recommendations and monthly tickets, please.
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