Chapter 17 Prayer Does Not Call Miracles

"--kill!!"

"—Destroy the Witch Sect!!"

"—Kill them all!!"

......

There was no sign of what happened.

The sky in the east was not even white, and the screams of killing superimposed in all directions woke Luo Mo from his dream.

But before he could get up, the wall he lived in had already been smashed open, and he didn't have time to become a ghost in the smoke and dust in the sky, and he lost consciousness the next moment.

When he woke up again, he found that he was tied to a cross with more than a dozen believers, and there was a crowd of applauding onlookers below.

Subconsciously, he tried to distance himself from the Witch Sect, but he found that his mouth was blocked.

The other party also seemed to understand that he was a ghost, and cast a spell on him so that he could not become a ghost, and even his body became extremely weak.

No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't break free from the chains that bound his whole body. He could only watch the executioner come forward, hold the big iron nail and aim the pointed position at his palm, and swing the hammer mercilessly. smashed down.

"—Ugh!?!"

The sharp pain that penetrated the heart swept towards him in the palm of his hand, and the bright red liquid splashed in the air, but he could only let out a silent muffled groan.

The surrounding crowd couldn't stop cheering loudly, making the executioner excited to continue the execution of this vicious crime bishop, dropping the second nail.

The unbearable pain almost made him faint, but as the leader, he was different from the others. He was given a spell that could not be stunned and doubled the pain.

A large stone was also hung under his feet, causing the wound on his palm to be continuously pulled by the double weight of the body and the stone.

Because the wound on the palm was not enough to cause him to die from excessive blood loss in a short period of time, but the pain tortured him all the time, and even made him unable to breathe normally.

Every second was an experience that surpassed death, and he almost went mad when he was too conscious.

The remaining rationality made him unable to imagine that under normal circumstances, there should be reliable companions to save him from the fire and water.

But the next moment this thought appeared, he couldn't help but let out a dull and miserable smile.

Because this year, he has been completely like a local ruffian. Even if Ramrem met him, he would definitely think that he didn't know him. He didn't have the face to meet him, and he didn't even have anyone who could be called a companion. There is no such thing as a reliable companion.

All he has is the enemy who hates him, the enemy who is about to hate him, or the people who use each other.

The indifference of the system also made him understand that he is really not an indispensable existence, just an attempt by God.

In the agony that every second is enough to make people mad, and every second is far better than normal death, he once prayed that someone would come to save him, but the next moment he had this fantasy, he gave up this naivety, and only hoped that he could Died a second earlier.

But.... cheap prayers made on an impromptu call did not evoke miracles.

The moment he appeared in this world, he knew that he had to make changes, but he didn't really take action. He just hoped for a stable transformation, but he didn't realize it. Transformation itself cannot be stable, and true transformation cannot be without injury.

He was fascinated by the ease in front of him, but he forgot that without the protection of others, he would not be guarded by the rules if he didn't follow the rules. In such a world, even living was a luxury.

Endless remorse filled his mind, and despair filled his heart. On the cross, he couldn't help feeling sad for his laziness and stupidity, and in this way, he realized remorse and passed through every minute of hardship.

The next day, the sky was already dark, and the icy rain fell drop by drop and splashed on his face mercilessly, but he couldn't drink even a drop of water with his mouth still blocked.

On the third day, the merciless scorching sun scorched his skin, and flies flew to his infected and festering wounds, as if sucking blood and laying eggs on the wounds. He was strengthened by perception and could not pass out. It was painful. Itchy and nauseating.

On the simple and cruel crucifixion, the stronger the tolerance, the longer the tortured time, and he did not die until the fourth day after being strengthened.

The corpse was soon filled with firewood, and he was going to be burned directly into a charred corpse, but at this moment.... the corpse disappeared.

"People, people?"

"The body is gone??"

"Obviously he should be dead!"

"Who stole the body...?"

People who came to appreciate the death of the villain looked around to find the corpse that should have died completely, but found nothing.

But suddenly...they found out in the crowd that the man in the black vest appeared in the crowd, just as he had been brought to the execution ground at the beginning.

"No, not dead?!"

"How can it be!!"

"Why are you still standing! And the wound on the hand...?!"

"That's just, you... misread it?"

As if coming from hell, cold whispers with a strong bloody smell emerged from the crowd.

Luo Mo, who had lost his former splendor in the pupils with the cross on his forehead, had bright red magic horns on his forehead. In the eyes of people who were shocked beyond measure, he constructed two cross swords from nothing to the physical form of projections, and stabbed them straight. into the bodies of the two beside him.

"—Escape, escape!"

"—Save....Help!!"

People who were shocked and even terrified by the resurrection from the dead, in a panic, even forgot to resist, and fled in all directions.

But Luo Mo swung his double-blade like crazy, slashing at people who had no intention to fight, letting the hot blood soak his body, like an irrational beast, or a demon returning from hell .

In the blood-stained slaughter, the edges of the blades were dulled, and he himself fell on the corpse that he had killed when the people were running away.

The smell of blood relentlessly filled this space, and the stench of internal organs irritated the nasal cavity, but he forgot all of this and just stared blankly at his blood-stained hands.

In the past, he never imagined that he would have such a day, whether he was nailed to the cross to be executed, or his hands were stained with blood.

Anger, remorse, sadness, hatred—all kinds of negative feelings about himself and others mixed together, darkening and clouding his eyes.

At this time, the people who had escaped in the distance turned back again, and brought a group of heavily armed guards with them.

"Come on, come on!"

"That guy is resurrected!"

"Drive him back..."

......

"—— Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhly

When the crowd regained their courage because of the appearance of the guards, they stopped and shouted that they wanted to watch the guards slay the demon... A very existential voice suddenly came from behind Luo Mo.