chapter 43

Chapter 91 Good Afternoon

Chapter 181 Good Afternoon

"He's coming."

Immediately after Azik's declaration, a huge crack was torn open in the world composed of countless rich color blocks. The mirror image of the inverted flow of light filled the inside of the crack and continued to expand, dragging the visible gray and white into the illusion.

His feet felt the reality coming from the ground. The abstract and illusory spiritual world layer peeled off like wallpaper, revealing the background of reality beyond the surface. Azik blocked Klein with his body and watched as the gray and white approached step by step. , the snake-like characteristics on the body became more and more obvious, with scales covering the skin, huge wings emerging from near the shoulder blades, and a crest growing from the forehead.

The howling and spreading wind of the underworld is like a rock, and the large tentacle-like slender force wrapped under the black mist continues to withstand the malice of the "Death Archon". The invisible water waves swim between the pale storm and the black mist. The concept of epidemic attempts to Assimilating death constantly eliminates the barriers blocking his progress.

A monster that looked like the Gorgon in Earth mythology came from the end of the mirror, strolling leisurely and contentedly. When seeing this pair in the spiritual world that could definitely be called "science fiction", they couldn't help but hiss and chuckle.

"His Royal Highness 'Death Archon', I haven't seen you for more than a thousand years. Why did you change your gender?"

His voice reached Klein directly through his heart. The snake hair coiled around his head repeated the same message at high frequency in a hissing sound that was different from all commonly used occult languages ​​at the moment. The harsh and messy sound was almost... Bald words, almost a curse.

The spiritual transmission was almost synchronized with the voice. The moment Klein heard the "Gorgons" teasing, he fell into a sluggish state. An irreversible layer of solidified stone formed on his skin, his thoughts stagnated, and his body solidified.

Hooray!

The pure white wings suddenly raised, and the movement gently covered Klein, who had subconsciously closed his eyes but was still affected by the "Black Saint". Azik felt the obstruction everywhere. The colors around him that had survived the petrification curse continued to become richer and lighter. The extremely weird colors were fighting against the gray and white that enveloped the entire area, and it was still impossible to open the door to the outside world. Passage, can only watch the mirror world approaching.

Although the demigods of the "Corpse Collector" path have been able to travel through the spiritual world with the help of the small underworld contained in their bodies since the ancestor of the undead bird, Greykarie, opened up the spiritual world in the second era, this extra The gift couldn't help but seem particularly weak.

Unless, unless...

"Azik, I thought you would summon the legions of the underworld to celebrate our rare meeting."

Before coming into contact with the two of them at a very short distance, the "Black Saint" stopped.

He looked at the "Death Archon" who was obviously in a wrong state, and his eyes moved to Klein who was huddled under Azik's wide, tightened wings, thoughtfully.

"The invitation I just made is still valid."

"During the years when you were away from Balam, your heirs, your people, the Spiritual Religion fell apart, the empire was torn apart, the former slaves stole the country and the name, and the descendants of the 'Pluto Emperor' had to go underground, and even lost their crowns. Along with the bones of our ancestors, the title of Lord of the Underworld and Disaster has become a taboo in the Southern Continent."

"We all hope that the 'Underworld Emperor' will be resurrected and return to the great era when the Pale Catastrophe swept across the northern continent. At this point, the royal faction of the Spiritual Religion is powerless. Your former subordinate Heitel has thought of some ways, but for now Judging from the results achieved…"

The "Black Saint" speaks and behaves with a charm that combines charm and innocence, and she mischievously lets it slip at key points.

"Forget what you just saw. The governor of Balam should not protect the kleptocrat's accomplices. Leave him to me. 'Original' will give you a chance. Under your leadership, the Eggers royal family will return to its past." With the glory of the world, Heitel can also get rid of the curse of eternal sleep and return to your command."

The snake's hair buzzed, Gray moved again, and the "Black Saint" stretched out her palm to Azik.

"Together we will."

She is an angel of the "Original Witch"... Klein, who was briefly protected by the Kingdom of the Dead, escaped the fate of being petrified, but as a living person, he hastily entered the territory of the dead, as if he had fallen straight from hot summer to freezing winter, and was freezing. Trembling, lips blue.

But at this time, he couldn't care about the physical pain, and his worries about the current situation and the future took over.

The "Black Saint" who had worked with Mr. Azik was very familiar with the "Death Archon", and the request he made was too tempting, even if he heard it, he couldn't find anything wrong with it.

The Balam royal family and Trunsoest, supported by the True Creator, are mortal enemies!

Just as he was worried, he carefully raised his head, but before he could stretch out his wings, he was pushed back by a warm hand.

"Together..."

Azik chewed on the proposal of the "Black Saint", and tightened the wings on his back a lot. The dense feathers were as close as possible to the trembling and weak creature hiding under him, and he took the time to glance at it.

"I'm afraid I can't accept your proposal now."

The sound of disintegrating rocks rumbled, and the "Black Saint" did not continue the recollection session. She took decisive action at the moment when Azik showed negative emotions. In an instant, her figure increased dozens of times, and she was completely close to the Gorgon. image of.

Countless thick giant pythons were tightly entwined, one layer at a time, their pupils were full of purple light, they opened their teeth and claws, and they smashed down from the sky towards the area where Azik was standing.

Their mouths are open, and the sharp teeth growing on their upper and lower jaws are different from ordinary things. The venom is concentrated, and the more deadly curse materializes, whether it is frost, disease, petrification, or black fire. Various abilities belonging to the "Witch" pathway are at this time. appear simultaneously.

"Klein."

Azik suddenly called Klein's name, pushed his hands towards the approaching "snake group" above his head, and pulled out a bronze door full of patina from under his feet.

The bronze door opened, revealing the depths of the underworld that no one had set foot on for a long time.

The death threat from the mythical creature forced Azik to recall the instinct that was deeply rooted in his bones and inherited from his father's blood.

More of the human features on his semi-snake body melted and disintegrated, with snake-like features accounting for the majority. The deformed body also swelled, awakening and roaring along with the gate to the underworld.

The roaring sound of the tide was deafening. Behind the bronze door, the indescribable feeling of terror turned into a grayish white. It was different from the grayish white color of stone skin. It was deeper and more ancient. Like a flood, it rose up from the depths behind the door, with long hair. The baby-faced Tengman squirmed and leaned forward on the wave, fighting with the "snake group".

It was not easy for Azik to temporarily delay the attack of the "Black Saint" with the help of the power of the underworld.

The dark gold in his eyes was replaced by paleness, veins popped out under the crown of his horns, his blood vessels beat like war drums, and he couldn't stop gasping for breath.

While fighting against the resurgence of another will in his body, Azik grabbed Klein's arm under his wings and looked hesitantly into the depths of the Gate of the Underworld.

If he just stayed, Klein, protected by his aura on the bronze whistle, could hold on for a while. Maybe he could survive until he could shake off the pursuit of the "Black Saint" and then return to reality together.

The bronze above melted and the sound of stone collapse came again, getting closer and closer. Time was running out and Aztec could not hesitate for a moment.

He glanced at Klein one last time and did not approach the gate of the underworld that acted as a barrier. He mobilized his power in the opposite direction and twitched the alienated snake tail hard, opening another hole at the edge of the spiritual world.

"Go out and contact the Aurora Society and leave Backlund!"

Azik almost shouted to explain, and then threw Klein into the crack.

Immediately afterwards, he took the initiative to summon another smaller door to the underworld and covered the crack with the small underworld he contained, which was another layer of cover for Klein.

What's left... The last restraints faded away, and the cold and gloomy indifference hit him decades in advance. Azik felt his soul sublime and transcendent. After just a moment of turning around, when he looked back, he was already pale and vigorous.

The feathered serpent, which was comparable to a mountain, raised its head and roared, charging towards Gorgon's descendants.

…

Luck seemed to betray Klein Moretti today.

In the spirit world passage, the inexplicable high temperature tortured the fragile body of the "faceless man", and the sharp pain from the hot iron made Klein howl, almost unable to control himself.

He felt the danger coming from nearby, and his mind was torn by spiritual alarms. His already sensitive senses were amplified countless times, and a black and white picture with flashing noise like when the TV signal was not good crowded into his mind.

plague.

The unimaginable end of humanity.

The two trains of reality and fantasy passed each other. Passenger Klein was thrown off midway, thrown in the air, and fell heavily on the concrete floor.

The feeling of the violent collision between his flesh and the solid ground traveled down his spine and reached his chest and lungs, causing Klein to subconsciously take a deep breath in order to relieve the pain.

"Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough!"

Klein's eyes suddenly widened to their limit, and he coughed crazily uncontrollably, almost coughing out his internal organs.

He, he, he... After a venting physiological reaction, he heard his own labored breathing, and his hands involuntarily held his throat. His muscles were tense and his joints were protruding, as if he was trying to control the mixture of light yellow and... It felt like iron-black poisonous gas was squeezed out of his throat.

Is this the smog in the East End?

Klein slowly twisted his head, mobilizing his spirituality to drive the sealed object he carried with him. His vision, blessed by the "yellow and black eyes", penetrated the thick fog that was close to the wall.

First there was the dirty, waterlogged road and the vague outline of the clock tower in the farthest distance, and then other things were revealed bit by bit.

"Creeping Hunger" switches to the soul of the "Priest of Light" and remains on, the pure sunlight dispelling some of the fog and ubiquitous viruses in the air.

Klein, who was no longer breathing, got up from the ground, looked in the direction of the church bell tower, and made his worst decision today.

He squinted his eyes, trying to see the gray and blue objects hidden under the fog more clearly.

thump!

A small sound, as if to cooperate with Klein's probing, came from not far away. An older man in his fifties fell into the iron black and light yellow, and never stood up again, and then again. Many people who had fallen down also entered his field of vision, some were older, some were young, some were young and strong, and some were women.

They were residents living in this neighborhood. They had finished their shift at the factory in the afternoon and had finished working for more than ten hours. They were preparing to go home to reunite with their families, but they died silently.

Wearing gray-blue workers' uniforms, they now fell to the ground and became motionless stones.

Passing through countless corpses with unclear faces, running, jumping with flames, climbing over obstacles...

After the mind-numbing confirmation act, Klein, who ran across an entire block, later realized that he had become the last living person.

There were thousands of bodies, the sky was empty, and his mind was blank. Klein tried to look up at the sky, but did not see the red moon. He turned around and looked at the church, which was still boundless yellow and iron black.

The citrine tied around the wrist floated with dreamy colors. The "faceless man" timidly linked to the perspective of the "Puppet Master" and raised his eyelids timidly.

He only saw a black thread, connecting himself and the gray in the distance.

…

Silveras Field was no longer as busy as before and was as cold as a cemetery.

Arman Stone was walking among many similar people who were like her, wearing a monocle on their right eye, either laughing or serious. Her pretty face was quite solemn, and she stood in front of the glass window, staring at the sky to fight the storm. rust haze.

He never thought that anyone would compete with Him for prey.

"Alsuhod." The smile on Amon's face became more and more dangerous, and rare anger brewed in his black eyes.

Amon never acts alone. His clones are all over Backlund, and naturally there are arrangements in the suburbs.

The noise of the "Original Witch"'s arrival was not small and attracted his attention, and the conflict that just occurred in the suburbs of Queens also confirmed one of his guesses.

Sherlock Moriarty, the so-called Aurora Society's candidate for the divine envoy, even if he is not part of the "God of Mystery", is definitely closely related to the resurrection of the "God of Mystery" and the final ownership of Sefirah Castle.

Adam is right, the plan he proposed is completely feasible, the existence of the "Hanged Man" has proven his research, and now the real creator who inherited the negative emotions when his father died is no longer an isolated case, Sherlock Moriah Di is another experiment. UU Readingｗww.uukanshu.net

"I underestimated Him."

After figuring out the key, Amon's gloomy and terrifying expression suddenly relaxed, and the curvature of the corners of his mouth returned to its usual ease.

His stretched fingers suddenly closed into a fist, and he lightly tapped the monocle with the knuckle of his index finger.

In an instant, among the pedestrians on the street, the trees beside the road, the sparrows on the roof, the mice in the muddy corners, and various invisible creatures in the air, an illusory insect figure flew out and returned to Amon like stardust.

Feminine flesh squirmed and changed, accompanied by a crisp sound of bone growth, and the figure returned to normal. Amon, with black hair and black eyes, walked down the steps step by step wearing a retro robe that was different from Aman Stone's modern dress.

Wearing a complicated robe that matched the aesthetics of the glorious age, He stood in the middle of the street, snapped his fingers, and created a loophole, a wrong loophole.

A hundred miles away, under the cliffs and woods where the Tasok River flows, Ince Zangwill, who was writing rapidly, suddenly jumped off the table, and William Augustus, the "Hand of Order" who was resting on the other side of the mausoleum, also jumped up. Opened his eyes.

A pitch black keeps growing out of the air, and the black eyes slowly outline behind the floating monocle.

The eyes without any emotion moved downward, ignoring the one-armed "night watchman", and landed on the quiet quill like a dead thing.

The shadow, which was not yet complete, smiled and said hello.

"Good afternoon, nightmare."

I'm really sorry, I thought I could finish it before twelve o'clock.

Uh, tomorrow, it's already today, I'll go to bed right away, and then it shouldn't be so late today.

I have a lot of things to do when I get home, I'm really sorry.

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Chapter 92 Perception

Chapter 182 Perception

No further details were drawn behind the monocle embedded in the dark center. The incomplete shadow took a step forward and disappeared into the air.

what is that?

Demigods of the Aurora Society, "divineers" and "ancient scholars" at a higher level?

Watching the enemy suddenly enter and then disappear, Ince Zangwill was unable to pinpoint the enemy's position, and fear from ignorance struck his heart.

0-08 has no response!

"interesting."

Ince Zangwill raised the corners of his mouth uncontrollably, making a contemptuous smile.

"You subconsciously think that you are still a believer in the dark night, and your cooperation with Al Suhod is just to prove yourself, hoping to make the dark night notice you."

"You don't know the true meaning behind the code name 0-08?"

The strange man's sarcastic self-talk echoed in Ince Zangwill's mind. The remaining arm that controlled him was raised, and the five fingers holding 0-08's torso were tightened, leaving traces on the angel-level item. Irreparable cracks.

His life was threatened, and he started pretending to be dead the moment the mysterious man arrived. The quill, which was trying to disguise itself as a harmless object, finally responded.

He trembled and twitched violently, and the pen tip spurted out stream after stream of viscous liquid, which fell on the ground. Without anyone touching it, it dispersed and unfolded into a line of text.

"I have no conflict with you."

"oh?"

"Ince Zangwill", whose right eye was dyed dark, raised an eyebrow. This frivolous behavior seemed out of place on his dignified and handsome face like an ancient Greek sculpture.

Seeing that the "Angel of Time" hidden under the shell of "Night Watch" showed interest, the quill with more and more cracks on the surface quickly seized the opportunity, spit out more liquid, and continued to write new sentences on the ground. .

"I have lost the qualification to seek the position of 'visionary'. It will not conflict with your father's goals. I just want to reshape my body."

"As the top 'scammer', you have deceived my understanding of you, otherwise I would not have written you into the script. It is not a rational decision to provoke the King of Angels from a non-adjacent path. I am sorry for you. no offence."

From the moment he entered Backlund, Amon had hidden himself. Even when moving between parasitic targets, he maintained a deep disguise and did not take the initiative. Compared with Al Suhod, who was monitoring the whole city and writing scripts, he More like an independent observer outside of the story.

"It makes sense, but it's not enough to convince me."

After listening to 0-08's self-defense, "Ince Zangwill" nodded, smiled a little evilly, and continued his hand movements without any pause.

He holds the quill like a child holding an insect in his hand to study it. The behavioral decisions he makes do not contain any personal emotions, but are simply based on the most primitive curiosity.

As the tightening movements of the five fingers continued, the cracks in the shell of the zero-level sealed object intertwined into a network, almost reaching the limit of maintaining its shape.

"I can help you hunt Pales Zoroaster."

"End the hide-and-seek game between me and Palles?" Amon said with a smile, and kept moving his hands, "It is very attractive, but it is not enough. Being a real 'mistake' is not that attractive to me. "

Click, click.

The activated consciousness gradually sluggished, the spiritual power became more and more silent, and even little bits of light began to break away from the black feathers and converge on the outside of the pen barrel.

In the dark, Alsuhod seemed to hear the countdown from death. Seizing the last chance, he did not spit out new ink, but forcibly changed every word on the ground that made up the previous sentence.

"I'd like to share the secrets of the 'Dreamer'."

The last stroke was completed, and the quill, which could control the fate of nearly a million creatures in an entire city, lost its vitality, no longer struggled, and lay flat in the palm of "Ince Zangwill".

"Give you thirty seconds."

After winking his right eye, Amon manipulated Ince Zangwill to respond.

He released his fingers that were about to crush the quill, turned his palm over, held the penholder in a normal posture, and walked to the desk.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, no wonder you were taken in by the Church of the Night. Even after escaping from the seal, you still couldn't fully control this penholder. Your ability to write scripts is as shallow as Medici's understanding of conspiracy." Amon glanced at the desk. He opened the notebook and flipped through the contents in front of it.

He opened a new page, put his hand on the paper, and let the quill play freely.

"Write it."

The black feathers trembled slightly, struggling to mobilize their spirituality. Alsuhod's pen stood up in the empty palm of "Ince Zangwill" and wrote on his own:

"Just like the 'Black Emperor' can return from the mausoleum and order he left behind, the 'Dreamer' also has special characteristics that are different from other paths, and this special basic ability has already been reflected in the 'Dream Weaver' stage. Therefore, except for those who truly hold the complete authority of the 'Utopian', few people know about it, and I am no exception."

"You mean the virtual personality?"

Amon stared at the words that came to an abrupt end on the blank paper, with a hint of amusement in his eyes. Taking advantage of the pause in Alsuhod's pen, he tightened his fingers again.

However, this time He did not mobilize his personal power to try to crush this sealed object, but only restricted the movement of the quill.

"So you don't know the real secret of 'The Dreamer'?"

Faced with Amon's questioning, Alsuhod's pen could not help but react more violently. He tried to write an explanation, but was unable to escape the limitations of his fingers. He could only continue to squeeze his spirituality and forcibly change the words that had been formed on the page.

"I know the clue to the secret answer."

"My father left a certain arrangement before his death. He hid the secrets of the 'Dreamer' there, and even those of the Sea of ​​Chaos."

"'Dreamer'...'Sea of ​​Chaos'..." Amon repeated these two words with interest, closed his eyes, and remained silent for several seconds.

Then He laughed, very happily.

After he finished laughing, Amon pushed up the monocle on his right eye and said with a smile:

"Honestly, it's really fun."

"In my impression, apart from Jacob who is dead and Pales who is now hiding in a corner, only my dear uncle has tried to deceive me."

Feeling the huge amount of spirituality that instantly exploded in his palm, Amon smiled and shook his head. The body of Ince Zangwill under his control also gradually exploded with blood, and more and more parts were soaked in bright red.

"Don't know the real secret of 'The Dreamer'?"

"Do you really think I know nothing about 'the audience'?"

"Well, it's true that after my father's death, Paranoid and I communicated much less, but we still retained interesting family games."

The smile on the corner of his mouth became more and more gloomy, and Ince Zangwill's dark-stained eyes revealed complex anger and sadness. The profound and vivid emotions were hard to believe that he came from a born mythical creature.

However, this emotion quickly disappeared in Ince Zangwill's eyeballs, because the next moment, with a little bit of deep light gathering, a man with a square face, black hair, blue eyes, and a high nose bridge, With a thick beard and a rather solemn expression, the phantom of a man holding a long sword just waved his hand, and the carrier that violated the law shattered into pieces of flesh and blood, flying everywhere on the walls, floor, and ceiling, covering most of the room. Stained blood red.

During this period, Ince Zangwill, who still maintained basically independent thinking and smooth consciousness, was helpless and could only watch in despair as his body was cut by countless rays of light.

His reluctance, his expectations for the future, and the faith he insisted on even if he betrayed the church, everything was reduced to nothing in the competition of the higher authority, lost its meaning, and was thrown away like garbage.

Just like what he had done in Tingen, William Augustus, who was tentatively an ally with him, did not even pay him any attention, and decided his fate out of consideration of interests in an understatement.

Amon, who was forced out of his parasitic state, reappeared on the side of the house, pointed in the direction of Ince Zangwill's body, quickly twisted his wrist and grabbed it.

He seemed not to have seen the "founding father" William Augustus descending from the sky, not to have seen this powerful angel whose portrait appeared on the ten-pound note, symbolizing the source of the glory of the Loen Kingdom, and ignored Rulin Da. The enemy's "hand of order."

"Theft is prohibited here!"

The illusory long sword passed through the air, and as soon as the rapidly established law took effect, countless invisible forces were aimed at the "Angel of Time" Amon.

The sharp air current cut off one of his palms, and the transparent rope wrapped around his neck and tightened upwards, puncturing and burning at the same time.

Amon's breathing stopped uncontrollably for a second. He calmly examined the various restrictions surrounding himself and moved his knuckles to his right eye.

when!

As "Angel of Time" Amon briefly turned his attention away from Ince Zangwill's body, a distant illusory bell sounded from all directions.

It seemed to come from a long time ago, slowing down everything around it, including William Augustus, the "Hand of Order" who reacted defensively.

At the top of the room, the mottled masonry shattered and disintegrated, and a vacuum appeared in the middle of the support structure in the corner of the mausoleum. The exposed patches of darkness were punctured, revealing a huge wall clock carved from stone.

It is ancient and mottled, and its surface is divided into twelve grids in two colors: gray and black. Each grid has a different symbol, and three pointers composed of "worms of time" point to different scales.

As the second hand inside jumped, the bell rang again.

"Time manipulation is prohibited here!"

Seeing that the scars and restrictions on Amon were being eliminated one after another in the reverberating bells, the previous laws against theft were invalidated and weakened, and even his own body had a tendency to turn into a slightly deeper light again, William O Gusdu couldn't help but frown, and forcefully drove his slower and weaker body to fill the loopholes in the law.

The darkness and the light drawn by the long sword were in a stalemate, and Amon also completed the theft while William Augustus was busy with himself.

His wrist sank, and a handful of pale and deep transparent spirit wrapped in a gelatin gem appeared in his hand.

It's not the writing of Alzuhod, it's the extraordinary characteristics and spirit of Ince Zangwill!

As a "stealer" who is on the path to become the King of Angels, Amon actually made a mistake in the simplest and most basic stealing!

Someone is influencing me?

The shadow of the ancient clock disappeared, and the "Hand of Order" got rid of the influence of time. The shadow behind it became much thicker, squirming and gathering, like a living thing.

The distorted power strengthened the law, and the invisible shadow was given a real quality. It relied on pure gravity to secretly write and draw on the body of Ince Zangwill, trying to fight for a glimmer of life. Lesuhod's pen sucked it.

An arm covered with luxurious sleeves pierced out from the shadows and firmly grasped this precious sealed artifact with special significance.

Looking away from the living shadow, Amon put his fingers under his monocle, and the mask named smile on his face was a little cold.

It was not because of the sudden arrival of George III. Judging from the impact just now, it was obvious that two new guests had joined the battlefield, but one of them could not detect the specific existence, and his spiritual intuition did not prompt him, only vaguely. aware of the arrival of the one.

After recalling this familiar feeling, the corners of Amon's mouth sank completely, and it took a lot of effort to barely open up a little arc.

He smiled and said:

"Adam?"

…

Time goes back twenty minutes.

The servant of darkness walked in the filthy sewage tunnel, the five dark holy symbols worn on his chest shone quietly, and his eyes were dark and deep.

After watching the Red Gloves team evacuate with Sealed Artifact 1-42, UU Kanshu www.uukanshu.net Anthony Stevenson did not return to the ground, but chose to face one of the Red Gloves team named Leonard Mitchell. The members of the Aurora Society pointed out the direction of the evacuation of the Aurora Society and continued to explore.

He walked in a dark environment, like the embodiment of the concept of fear. Just walking an inch would bring trembling from the heart and deep spiritual fear into the bodies of the living creatures living in that inch of land, and he would feel peaceful. The darkness was filled with the unknown when he came. No matter which angle you looked at, there seemed to be an inexplicable sight hidden in it, staring at all those who wanted to peek.

In the closed sewer space, the perfect lightless environment magnified this advantage to the limit. At least at this moment, Anthony could feel dozens of eyes constantly looking at him and then moving away in panic, none of them dared to maintain firm contact with him. Looking at each other.

The irritating smell of sulfur in his nose became stronger and stronger. Anthony opened his mouth slightly, and a cold wind rose around him. Invisible spirits flew out of his mouth and rushed in all directions, while he himself stopped. Waiting for feedback from the spirit body.

Thirty seconds, one minute, two minutes...

It was not until the fifth minute that the most powerful of the spirits released just staggered back through the wall. The hideous scars and rich pollution that penetrated its body had almost sentenced it to death.

It faithfully performed its duties before returning to the spirit world.

"A fight between the 'Dark Saint' of the Aurora Society and a powerful 'demon' occurred in the East District?" A trace of surprise inevitably appeared on Anthony's smooth, beardless cheeks.

It has never taken so long to write a single chapter, and the state is not right.

Finally, I would like to ask for recommendations and monthly tickets, please.

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Chapter 93 Tit for tat

Chapter 183 Tit for tat

Draped in holy light and with cracked black armor, the sword-wielding knight struggles to avoid the evil forces attacking from all directions.

The red moon covered the "sky". In the small space of the sewer, living rotten branches and vines were intertwined and clinging to the surface of the wall. The cracked and dried-up tree tumors were constantly emitting hot bubbles, and the rotten blood was flowing on the ground, greedily looking for the life of the living beings. trace.

The divinity belonging to the "Mother Tree of Desire" transformed this cramped underground. The favored one of the "Abyss" and the believer of indulgence, Gostars revealed his true form, with broad wings, towering horns and crests, and purple-red scales. A canine teeth staggered.

The sharp sword slashed at the minions, the shadow shook the breath, and the dragon-like monster walked through the twisted jungle at extremely fast speeds. Regardless of his life, he exchanged injuries for injuries, and used the most crazy offensive to suppress the black-armored knight one after another. He retreated, barely able to lift his head.

Decades of hatred, the tragic death of his compatriots, the enslavement of his relatives, the destruction of his homeland, and all the atrocities committed by the colonists of the Northern Continent were all the fuel to support his fight.

Although he doesn't know why the "original witch" went crazy, what kind of influence the witches gave the royal family, and why the Aurora Society suddenly rose up to protect the people of Loen, Gostars doesn't want to think about this. He only knows that now It is a foregone conclusion that the King of Loen has acquiesced and even encouraged the elimination of some residents of Backlund's East District. This is a good opportunity for him to take revenge.

For racial avengers like Gostars, all people in the Northern Continent, regardless of whether they are powerful or untouchable, are not distinguished from Loen, Intis, Fusac, Lunberg, Feneport and other countries. Baipi only has one name in common - the enemy of his compatriots, the vampire lying on the southern continent.

The workers in the Eastern District may be having a miserable life, but the residents of the Southern Continent are even worse off!

Not only have they lost their independent personality and rights as human beings, but now they no longer even have the qualification to call themselves beasts. They are just two-legged livestock that provide gold, cotton, tea, coffee beans, tobacco, and meat for slaughter to the people of the Northern Continent. Lamb makes no difference.

Tooth for tooth, eye for eye, for the sake of our compatriots who died in vain, we must pay with blood!

I don't know how many times they had fought, but Gostars, who had the upper hand, could no longer hold back his throbbing desire. In order to avoid the shadow attack, his spiritual body suddenly solidified, and his eyes surrounded by golden mysterious patterns were rippling with divine energy. The brilliance of nature echoes the red moon on the zenith.

The eulogies praising the "Mother Tree of Desire" became more and more passionate. Gostars was bathed in crimson and mud. The hot scarlet started from his abdomen, along the spine, across the chest, stopped in the throat, and bloomed in the mouth. , the blood shines brightly.

God has promised that in the future, I will use the saints of the false gods of the Northern Continent as the first sacrifice to God...

There was no high-profile announcement, the thick cone-shaped flames tore through the darkness, followed closely by vicious screams, and the roaring "blasphemy" resounded through the entire underground structure at an exaggerated volume, and the stone walls were forced to shake and were instantly submerged. The figure of the black-armored knight disappeared, and the dark brilliance of the "Dark Saint" grazing was drowned.

The "devil's" breath seemed to be endless, and the evil blood light radiated to the extreme end of the underground passage. Dusk ushered in the gloom, and the thick shadows below were continuously suppressed.

The intricate sea of ​​trees that looks like it is covered with oil is centered on the "devil" flying in the air, and its outstretched branches are continuously gathered together by many arms that protrude one strange thing after another. On the "trunk", on the surface of the viscous black liquid, bloodshot black and white eyes rolled around one after another, and sharp wooden thorns proliferated, all of which pierced into the back of Gostars, who was fighting in his complete demon form. It provides him with a steady stream of spirituality and even the blessings of gods.

In mid-air, Gostars stared at the sea of ​​blood, his eyes surrounded by dark golden patterns moving rapidly, trying to find the spirituality of the "Dark Saint".

He had fought against another saint who served the true Creator, and he knew very well that these followers of false gods had great vitality and would never die easily.

Suddenly, the scales around Gostars' cheek suddenly stood up, and the finely distributed scales pointed in different directions, just like the hairs on a beast's neck that stood up when it smelled danger.

His sharp senses belonging to the "devil" captured the unusual movements, and the "Dark Saint" was indeed not dead!

The ruler of the Blood Sea repeated his old tricks, but this time Gostars' efforts failed to achieve better results.

Under the scarlet, the light from heaven slowly rises, and the shadow guards the sun. The majestic pure breath opens up a gap in the ocean of evil and filth, and spreads rapidly with this nascent light spot, and in an instant It expands in a line, like a sharp sword grazing the clouds and bisecting the ocean.

The broad blade penetrated the ground, and the black-armored knight knelt down on one knee and began to pray for victory.

"Lord, please give me your strength, so that I can stand strong instead of surrendering. I can break down all strong fortresses and lies. In your name, your strength, and your teachings, I can use your name, your strength, and your teachings to eliminate the enemies who confuse me. The villain's conspiracy keeps me from being confused or depressed, so that I can face the difficulties when trials come."

A hundred miles away, the black-haired man staring at the thunder felt something. The layers of wings behind him were raised one after another, and he looked back to the east where the rust was entrenched.

The shadow grew vertically upward, and the phantom of "Dark Angel" Saslier placed his hand on the shoulder of "Dark Saint", and raised his arm little by little, helping the devout apostle get rid of the suppression of the "abyss".

"When I am tired and weak, you are still strong. Lord, you are my only help. Teach me how to be good, how to fight, how to carry heavy burdens and guide the flock, how to expose the lies of evil people under your seat, and protect me." I do not fall into failure and isolation, I believe that through your death and resurrection, you have destroyed the power of the enemy, but the enemy has resurrected, spreading lies and distorting the truth."

The angel wings behind his back were fully unfolded, and he only output the maximum amount of spirituality to maintain the realm of darkness. The "Dark Saint" who prayed devoutly in his heart continued to recite his prayers. The shadows under his body boiled and rolled, spitting out countless dark and ethereal chains, and swayed like snakes. move.

The wings of the believer are wrapped around him, and he is favored by the true Creator. The "Dark Saint" Kosma, whose strength is not inferior to that of the "Mother Tree of Desire", opens his eyes and raises his broad sword. The edge of the sword is condensed with the richness of prosperity of faith.

He firmly promised:

"Lord, I hereby declare that the enemy and his minions are all sycophants. I believe in your words, your truth, and my prayers. This is my secret weapon. Faith, please give me powerful power. Heavenly faith, I will put on the armor you have given me and bathe in your holiness, so that I will not be hurt by the dark slings of the devil."

"Lord, take care of my faith and forgive my sins so that I may be cleansed by your righteousness. Give me courage so that I can stand and fight for you. Together with you, I will achieve victory. Victory because of your promise."

"Pray in the name of the Creator, and before you, every knee will bow..."

The spirituality gathered on the sword's edge reached saturation at this moment. Kosma raised the straight and dark broadsword in his hand, took a step forward, and with the simplest and most unstoppable gesture, swung a slash towards The "devil" in mid-air.

Kesma stared at the ripples of the spiritual explosion, with deep red flashing under his faceplate. He exhaled slowly, with a calm tone and a calm mind, and ended his prayer with a regular prayer.

"Praise the all-knowing and all-powerful Creator..."

"Holy!"

…

Boom!

The sudden shock shocked Klein and stopped him subconsciously.

He pointed his left hand, which was made of gold, toward the ground, held his breath, and carefully identified the source of the vibration.

Coming from the edge of the East District... Klein doubted his judgment.

His current location is about a few kilometers away from the edge of the Eastern District. Only the aftermath of the demigod conflict can radiate this far.

If the demigods of the church were fighting against the originator of the smog, then it would be time for the official extraordinary people with the power to fight the disease enter the East District to rescue the dead and injured.

But until now, Klein has been walking for twenty minutes and has not seen any official Beyonders.

In the hinterland of the East District, people who are old or suffering from hidden diseases are like felled trees, falling one after another in the fog. New corpses cover the old ones already displayed on the ground. Even the healthier people are also exposed. These corpses were later infected with the plague and died quickly. Only the relatively healthy adults and children could continue to persevere in the haze, but they didn't know when they would reach their limit.

The negative emotions accumulated here almost condensed into entities, and suppressed emotions such as numbness, despair, pain, and resentment surged up like a tide.

Everything Klein saw in just twenty minutes seemed to be sending him a signal.

Officials and the government have given up on this place and the residents of the East District who are dispensable and can be replenished at any time.

The plague will not destroy the machines and hoarded materials in the factory. There is no shortage of workers in Loen, but some people will die. When the plague passes and the smog is washed away by the rain, the factory owners and the nobles who invested in the factory can come to the plateau at any time. When relatively backward provinces recruit more workers from farmers who lost their fields due to the effects of the Corn Act, it will only take two or three days to restart work.

Klein used divination to confirm that the smog was well controlled on the east side of Backlund Bridge. Only insignificant people would die, and only families with assets below the basic line would die...

Huh... Klein took a small breath, trying to relieve the blockage in his heart through breathing.

He retracted his palm and continued to use the ability of the "Priest of Light" to either create holy water and sprinkle it on the roadside to suppress the spread of the plague, or ignite the sacred flame to directly weaken the content of the plague in the air from the source.

Mr. A hasn't responded yet. They shouldn't be avoiding me. I'm afraid they are really in trouble... While making the holy water, Klein took the time to look at the palm of his right hand. The badge buried under the skin and flesh still showed no response.

When he first fell into the East District, he tried to contact Mr. A and got an address, but then nothing happened.

That place is in the dock area, close to the Tasok River, and is another boundary of the haze radiation range. It is very likely that Mr. A and the others are fighting the "witches" who spread diseases in the haze, and that is where they will finally meet. point or evacuation point.

After so long, the royal family and the church... well, the goddess and the Storm Lord must have noticed what happened at Red Rose Manor, and discovered the "original witch" and the projection of the true creator who used Triss's power.

It is true that the suddenly severe smog in the East District was the work of the Witch, but without the royal family's instructions, the Witch Sect would not dare to casually kill so many people in Backlund, the capital of Loen.

Judging from the attitudes of the Aurora Society and Zarathul, the True Creator does not want the Augustus family to bring out a "Black Emperor". It is not just a matter of simple geopolitics and power distribution. It can also be guessed from the battle of the four emperors. Out of one or two, I am afraid that the "arbitrator" that Trunsoest and Augustus have mastered is adjacent to the "lawyer" path that Augustus is pursuing. Since Augustus can jump through the path and win the A true god, a true creator, could also support Emperor Trunsoest to become a god in the same way.

I don't know if the official church knows the little secrets of the Augustus, but the Aurora Society is now actively preventing the conspiracy of the royal family and the witches, largely because of the conflict over the ownership of the divine throne.

Klein suddenly stopped and the corners of his mouth turned up uncontrollably, a bit exaggeratedly.

"...I don't even know why he died..." He muttered in a low voice and silently closed the area covered by the holy light, leaving only a thin layer protecting his body.

Klein bared his teeth, tried to ignore the pain coming from deep within his spirit body, and snapped his fingers.

In the empty streets with no living people, the "faceless man" can express his extraordinary abilities as he wants without fear of exposing his identity and attracting the attention of ordinary people.

Looking down from the distant sky, clusters of orange-red firelight rise one after another in the patches of iron black and light yellow, like fireflies waking up in the middle of the night.

Holding back the onset of an injury that had yet to heal, Klein rushed to the address given by Mr. A as quickly as possible.

There was no time to be confused, he had to do what a "Nighthawk" should do.

Not for the image of the church, but to fulfill the obligations of a member of the Tingen Blackthorn Security Team.

That's all.

…

The colorless and cold hurricane pushed the cold Qinghei back into the air where the one-eyed ghost was entrenched. Sharon, whose collar brooch was shining, had a black dress floating under her indifferent face. UU Reading www.uukanshu.net looked straight down at the two people who were trying to attack her. The ghost on the back of his companion opened his mouth, and a cone-shaped sound wave rushed forward.

"The scream of resentful souls"!

The dozens of spirit bodies that kept flying at high speeds in spirit form were left with only the instincts hidden in the spiritual debris. They misjudged that the "resentful soul" screamed at a speed far faster than that of ordinary ghosts, and the transparent spirit body was hit by the violent impact. Finally, under the impact of mixed curses, the already illusory figure was like a damaged video file, with various spots appearing on its surface. Some collapsed on the spot, and some flickered for a long time before it managed to stabilize itself, but it also stopped in mid-air, helpless. Go one step further.

The deafening sound waves also affected the duo responsible for frontal pressure, attracting their attention.

Throwing a demon wrapped in a spiritual thread towards Mr. A, Jerry took a moment to look behind him, and happened to see Sharon's ability to use the scream to amplify the "Poisonous Wine Brooch", igniting a huge amount of sulfur in the air. The exploding flames mixed with the blackness symbolizing the curse spread everywhere, weaving dense spider webs, completely wrapping the remaining ghosts and burning them to ashes.

There was a muffled sound of heavy objects falling to the ground, and the crystal residue was sparsely scattered in the air. Jerry Zaratul stared at Sharon, suddenly raised his hand, and pulled down with his five fingers.

A ghost with a very low presence in the air was forced to reveal its figure, swaying and struggling for a few times, and finally lost to the gravity of the dream and fell to the ground.

Without looking at the direction of the ghost's fall, Jerry Zaratul shot the ghost back to the underworld with a casual shot. He tilted his head to Sharon, whose eyes widened unnoticeably, and said with a smile:

"Well done, Miss."

I'm so busy with my studies today, so I'm so late. I'm really sorry.

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Chapter 94 A not-so-nice encounter

Chapter 184 Not-so-nice encounter

"Well done, Miss."

There was a sense of ridicule in Jerry Zarath's words, which made Mr. A feel tired again.

The two of them have been partners for quite some time. In fact, Mr. A agrees with Jerry Zaratul's views on some things. For example, from beginning to end, he does not want Sharon Hunter to be involved in their daily operations. , the reason why we cooperated with this eldest lady who has grown up beside angels and has never experienced big storms this time is just because we received an order from His Highness before the action, and then the haze suddenly broke out, and half of the Witch Sect God and Gostars, the original tracking target, suddenly appeared, ambushed the Aurora Society's intelligence team in the East District, and sealed off the East District, which truly tied Sharon Hunter to them.

"Your Excellency Kesma is holding Gostars in check. I believe that the Lord's favor will not cause him to fail. However, there are still witch demigods wandering in the East District and may encounter us at any time." Mr. A switched back to "Light" "Priest", "We don't have time to spend energy on trivial matters. Arriving at the agreed upon location as soon as possible and gathering with K and Lord Kosma is the primary purpose at the moment."

The Aurora Society active in the East District includes members of the Secret Order, and is led by only one demigod. In the early days of the rise of the haze, "Dark Saint" Kosma took the initiative to entangle the two demigods in order to cover the retreat of his companions. Now contact is lost and his whereabouts are unknown. He only used flesh and blood magic to contact the "Bishop Rose" who was wandering nearby twenty minutes ago, and determined the final meeting place - a river port in the dock area.

The distance to get there is not far, but the problem is that after the smog started, a large number of resentful spirits and ritual magic summons with the aura of "abyss" sprang out from every corner like cockroaches. These hyenas of evil gods The target was clear, and except for some who were not very intelligent, they all killed the members of the Aurora Society.

"It's not a big problem. The 'Witch of Despair' doesn't seem to have the same heart as Gostars."

Jerry Zaratul's eyes are dark. Unlike other methods that focus on strengthening the physical level, the "Puppet Master"'s ability to control the threads of the spirit body can be easily mastered even in the plague haze created by the witch. Subtle changes within a radius of 500 meters.

"Judging from the covered area of ​​the ritual tracks exposed underground when Lord 'Dark Saint' broke off, they have been preparing underground in the East District for a long time, but for some unknown reason, they could not successfully complete the ritual. Otherwise, we would not have been able to leave the underground. ."

"host."

Mr. A looked to the west and suddenly said.

"Before the ceremony of communicating with the 'Abyss' was launched, I heard the gospel."

"Gospel?" Jerry Zaratul was a little surprised.

This is generally the name used by the Extraordinaries of the "Secret Prayer" path in the Church of the True Creator for the nonsense that affects them. These nonsense words come directly from the true Creator Himself, and are also external pressure that forces most of the "Secret Prayer" path Extraordinaries to be promoted in a relatively short period of time. However, influenced by their faith, they are more willing to call the "gospel" actually a hanging The Sword of Damocles above their heads is called the Lord's favor and the Lord's blessing. It is the declaration of the true Creator urging them to remember the teachings and abide by the precepts.

"The last time I felt the voice of the Lord so close was... when I took over the bone whip of the Lord's shepherd from the previous generation A." Mr. A said, "The 'Black Saint' is the one I promoted to The host of the ceremony, he prayed to the Lord during the ceremony, asking the Lord to test my soul, measure my character, and decide whether I am qualified to become an envoy of God and walk for the Lord. It was also at that time that I felt the Lord for the first time. With my gaze, the Lord's voice was so close to me and so clear, and all my flesh, flesh, and spirit were trembling for this great glory."

His hands couldn't help but cover his face. Mr. A's voice was so excited that he pinched red marks on his fair skin. He tried to use pain to fight against the loss of control. The reaction was so big that Jerry and Sharon subconsciously stepped back. A few steps.

"me..."

He took deep breaths repeatedly, an unstable scarlet color brewing in his blood-soaked pupils, and his tone and movements became much calmer.

"The voice of the Lord will not appear inexplicably in the Northern Continent. This is a land occupied by rebellion and false gods. I guess it is likely that the agent of a certain Lord discovered the witch's conspiracy and attracted the Lord's attention during the battle, so The witches of the East District and Gostars were forced to plan ahead and start the yet-to-be-completed ritual."

"Heh." Jerry Zaratul smiled without sincerity and nodded in agreement, "If it's as you guessed, then I really want to get to know the agent. Hey, it can attract the Lord's attention. It's really…"

As he spoke, Jerry Zarath suddenly stopped laughing.

The corners of his mouth twitched uncontrollably, followed by the right half of his face, as if the "Joker" ability had temporarily failed on him.

An idea slowly formed, Jerry Zaratul turned his neck slightly stiffly, and looked at Sharon with a somewhat evasive look.

"Miss, it's not the one you're looking after, right?"

Sharon avoided the sight of the crooked "Secret Puppet Master" and was equally confused.

She was rubbing the slightly fluorescent gemstone brooch on her neckline with her palms. Her emotions and thoughts were not so obvious on her delicate, doll-like face.

With her blue eyes blinking, Sharon did not want to pay attention to the "Secret Puppet Master" and asked Mr. A somewhat seriously.

"Sherlock Moriarty, fifteen minutes ago, you said you received news from him?"

Mr. A nodded in acknowledgement.

"The Holy Emblem I left for him is part of my body. Fifteen minutes ago, he asked me for help through the unique communication method between 'Rose Bishops', as well as the meeting place. Now he should be on his way On the road to the Docklands."

Going to the dock area... Sharon's expression, which lacked emotional fluctuations, gradually became serious.

Her translucent figure rose a little higher in the haze of pale yellow and rust, trying to discern the direction.

"Can Sherlock Moriarty's location still be determined?"

Seeing Sharon Hunter's serious reaction, Mr. A thought patiently for a moment, and his blood-red eyes suddenly tightened.

Damn it!

There is a 90% probability that Jerry Zaratul's joke is true!

Sherlock Moriarty, no, Klein Moretti, it was he who discovered the cooperation between the Witch and the Augustus, and it was he who kept in touch with His Highness Zaratul, who dumped Sharon Hunter. For him to coordinate actions, isn't it just a few minutes before the haze appears?

Moreover, even the saints in the church cannot guarantee that every prayer will receive the attention and favor of the Lord. Apart from the angels and His Majesty, perhaps only Klein Moretti enjoys such a special honor.

When encountering enemies underground, K and him each prayed to go online, but neither His Highness the "Red Angel" nor the "Angel with the Lantern" Zaratul responded.

Judging from the experience of His Excellency Kesma, the two Highnesses probably have no skills at all. After all, this is a battle deep into the heart of the enemy's country. The power they can exert and descend is limited, and they cannot display their true strength.

Excluding other factors, there is only one demigod left who can move freely in the haze - the "Desperate Nightingale" of the Witch Sect...

"It seems we can't evacuate smoothly." Jerry Zaratul clicked his tongue.

He smiled a little reluctantly, noticed the stares of his two companions, and shrugged nonchalantly.

"Did I say something wrong?"

The warm blood evaporated rapidly, and Mr. A's whole body exuded a feeling of filth and depravity similar to the spirituality filled in the haze.

He switched the objects of "grazing".

"The haze won't have much impact on my connection with the Flesh Beacon. We can catch up with Sherlock halfway."

As he spoke, his body lost its substance, like a water bag missing its filler, collapsing and sinking into the ubiquitous shadows on the ground.

Jerry Zaratul jumped into the flames, and Sharon summoned the cold wind to dive into the air, closely following Mr. A, one after another, and in a moment, completely disappeared into the rust and light yellow.

They must evacuate collectively before the Witch discovers Sherlock Moriarty, otherwise a demigod in good condition will be waiting for them.

According to general calculations, the probability of survival of four sequence fives facing demigods is zero.

…

The light yellow fog floating on the street is gathering more and more, blurring the low stone and wood buildings and the neatly arranged red brick bungalows. Only the swaying orange lights in the window bars can be seen rhythmically expanding. Or shrink, following the glimmer of light flashing on various mirrors, all the way east.

"Flames jumping" occurred frequently, and under the guidance of spiritual intuition, they did not stop until a certain street where a residential area intersected with a factory land.

Phew!

Like a lighter that lacks fuel, the orange sparks that were supposed to burst briefly in the corner of the dry newspaper on the roadside failed to rise. The black figure running through it seemed to have been pulled away from the road ahead while running fast, and lost its balance in the air. His body instantly tilted and fell to the side.

There was severe pain in his chest, and Klein, who had a recurrence of the sequelae, put his right hand on his heart, staggered out of the flames, and almost fell to the ground.

He had a headache and a fever, and a slightly sweet smell of rust surged in his throat, and he could no longer effectively mobilize his extraordinary abilities.

Is the plague in the air getting worse? The purification of "Priest of Light" has lost its effect? Klein had some understanding, but he was not sure what the source of the mutation was.

The angels of the "Original Witch" are fighting Mr. Azik. They don't have a second angel in Backlund, right?

Are they other senior members of the Witch Sect? A certain demigod on the path of the witch created this haze. Is she trying to expand the influence of the haze and invest more plagues?

Ah sneeze! Ah sneeze! Ah sneeze!

Klein suddenly sneezed several times in succession.

In front of his eyes, in the haze mixed with light yellow and rust, some dirty white frost crystallized in the air from a distance, snowflakes fell in the sky, and a thin layer of ice formed on the ground, and all this started from Only a few seconds passed from appearance to occurrence!

No, this is not normal. It is true that Backlund has gotten colder and colder in recent weeks, but autumn has not passed yet, and it is far from the point where it will snow... Klein unconsciously touched it with his fingers The pendulum's silver chain wraps around his wrist, wishing for divination.

But before he could untie the chain, a strong spiritual warning rushed straight into his brain. He almost followed the "clown's" instinct and endured the pain in his chest and head before reluctantly reacting.

In the increasingly cold realm, Klein took off in mid-air, exerting force on his waist and abdomen to twist sideways and backwards. His relaxed arms immediately tightened, stretching toward his waist and in front of his body.

The left hand made of gold quickly lost its purity and warmth, replaced by a majesty that made people want to surrender involuntarily.

The two points of light in Klein's eyes grew from small to large, and his dim golden left hand passed through the air very quickly, issuing an order.

"Flying and throwing attacks are prohibited here!"

He clearly saw in his mind that behind him to his right, a cold weightless spear made of ice was flying towards the back of his head at high speed.

The "Judge"'s power centered on Klein and quickly constructed restrictive rules in a certain area. However, when the frost spear that broke through the air flew into this area, it did not even pause or tremble. It was just on the surface. The solidified frost thinned a little and continued to attack.

Klein watched this scene, his eyes widened at the same time, and his left hand burst out with pure light like the sun again.

He is indeed a demigod!

He is the demigod of the Witch Sect!

"Creeping Hunger" bared two rows of white fangs like a real beast. The soul of the "Priest of Light" that was "grazed" emerged on the surface of the gloves, and an image of an old and tired man emerged, roaring in pain. , it looks like it could collapse and dissipate at any time.

After almost exerting the power of the "Priest of Light" to the limit, Klein, hiding behind the "Holy Light", was able to change the trajectory of the frost spear, avoid the sharp tip of the spear, and was not killed by the witch demigod. With a casual blow.

The silver chain rustled, and the sleeping spirit in the citrine opened its eyes, UU reading www. uukanshu.netActivated the "Yellow and Black Eyes", Klein's eyes were dyed with a layer of darkness and he looked around, and soon discovered the source of the attack.

Unlike the dead residents of the East End, the illusory thread linking the figure was moving leisurely and leisurely, which meant that its owner could move freely within the deadly haze.

In just a few seconds, Klein, who used the "Yellow and Black Eyes" to expand his field of vision, saw a woman walking out of a nearby alley.

She was wearing a pure white robe, her hair was pulled up loosely, her neck was long and fair, and her appearance was extremely bright.

Such a woman is incompatible with the dilapidated and lifeless environment of the East District. She is holy, dignified, and not stained with any dust, which makes people shine.

Her pure white and simple robes and loosely pulled hair add a bit of restrained and lazy temperament to her, even through the "yellow and black eyes", she can only see it in the line of sight of the spirit body. On the other side, Klein couldn't help but imagine how such a woman would behave in certain circumstances.

He felt a bad feeling similar to when he was affected by the negative effects of the "poisoned wine brooch", where his inner desires were heightened and violent and impulsive thoughts ran rampant. He wanted to give up thinking on his own initiative.

Snap.

The heel stepped over an arm spread out on the ground, and the bright and holy woman finally entered Klein's normal field of vision.

She looked at Klein up and down, suddenly showed an innocent smile like a girl, and said with curiosity:

"Are you the one favored by God?"

I caught up, I caught up with today's deadline, updated before twelve o'clock, long live!

Finally, I would like to ask for recommendations and monthly tickets, please.

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