In the front hall, the lights are bright.
A huge god statue stood on the ground, and the single pupil was swept by light and shadow.
The black-robed priest stood on the high stone steps, at the foot of the huge statue, looking down at the people below, as if he was looking down on all beings in place of the statue behind him.
The unpleasantly sweet aroma filled the bright front hall, as if it could penetrate deep into the human body.
Under the stone steps, everyone fell to the ground and fell asleep.
There was an extremely painful look on each of their faces.
They seem to be having an endless nightmare, but they can't wake up from the nightmare, they can only struggle in vain in the dream.
The black-robed priest looked down at the crowd indifferently, the corners of his mouth raised under the shadows, and a smile appeared.
From the beginning, he stood here quietly.
He calmly and condescendingly watched everyone fall into an illusion—the illusion that can induce the heaviest memory in everyone's heart, and the illusion that digs out the things that everyone fears and desires the most.
Small human beings are so vulnerable in the face of the pain in their hearts.
No one can overcome himself, even the most valiant powerhouse in the world will fall before himself.
They will sleep forever in pain and never wake up again.
Stupid and humble mortal.
Being controlled by the so-called emotions, I was suffering and struggling because of it.
Stupid.
And he can easily make everyone fall into pain and manipulate their emotions.
He looks down on all living beings like a god in high places.
Taking his eyes away from those stupid mortals, the black-robed priest turned around, raised his head, and stared at the tall idol with a frenzied gaze.
The great god of all things Tim Yat—
Please grant immortal immortality to your devout followers—
A giant statue of a god in a strange but wonderfully soft shape stands on a huge high platform.
The tail of the idol extended from above, coiled along its one foot, and then the tip of the tail was embedded in the hexagonal altar in the middle of the bluestone platform.
The short columns with thick arms surround the altar, and the lines carved out of the bluestone plate spread, depicting complex patterns.
The lines are like clouds and waves, forming a vortex-like trace, bringing all the ends of the runes to the center.
In the center of the pattern swirl, the tail end of the idol is slightly raised there.
The tip of the black stone carved tail was rolled up, leaving a gap in the middle, as if waiting for something to be inserted into it.
The black-robed priest raised the scepter that he had been holding in his hand.
The scepter was as tall as a person, and the body of the scepter was carved from obsidian. A creature resembling a snake but not a snake was wrapped around the body from the bottom up.
At the top of the scepter, the object opened its mouth and held up a perfectly round sphere.
The sphere seemed to be bluestone, but it exuded a metallic texture and luster under the firelight.
A strip of slender lines are carved on the bluestone ball, coated with a layer of fluorescence, reflecting the firelight, so that the mysterious runes emit a shallow luster due to the light refraction of the sunken shallow grooves.
The black-robed priest raised the scepter cautiously and gently inserted the scepter into the hole rolled out at the end of the statue's tail.
When the scepter was inserted, the end of the tail seemed to move slightly.
With a click, the scepter blended perfectly with the rolled-up end hole, as if the scepter should have stood there.
Ordinary people can't see it, but the black-robed priest can faintly see it. A trace of gray-black air emerges from the ground, and then, as if being attracted, it gathers around the scepter.
The wisps of gray-black aura quickly spread along the lines on the altar floor.
Gradually, an invisible vortex was formed, spreading out with wind pressure.
The invisible air flow spread out, swaying the hem of the priest's black robe.
The wide hood slipped from the head, and an old face was exposed to the light.
Snow-white hair fluttered wildly in the invisible airflow, and two black-cyan rune patterns were on his cheeks, making his face even more bizarre.
On his wrinkled face, only one pair of eyes shone terribly.
He opened his hands, his eyes full of enthusiasm.
"Ah... I feel your breath... Your response... "
The old priest stood beside the invisible vortex, raised his hands high, his face was fiery, and his eyes were full of madness.
His eccentric emphasis that sounded like a cry echoed in the stone hall.
"O great god of all things Tim Yat."
"Everything will pass away, and when that day comes, you will wake up from your slumber."
The gray-black vortex revolved endlessly, getting bigger and deeper, and wisps of invisible gray aura escaped from the vortex.
They are wandering in all directions, they will be scattered all over the earth, fall into the bottom of everyone's heart, induce the deepest desire in everyone's heart, and let everyone be tempted to become a slave of greed.
Then, without doing anything else, the human race, eroded by greed, will destroy itself, along with this continent—
The old priest stood in front of the altar, and the invisible airflow caused by the vortex formed in the altar lifted his robes and lifted his pale hair.
He stood there like a messenger of God, standing calmly, looking down at the few believers who came out of the shadows on one side, bowed his head deeply and knelt at his feet.
Almost all believers have already sacrificed their flesh and blood for the gods, and only these three, he deliberately left it to the end.
"This is just the beginning."
said the old priest,
"We will spread the breath of the great God of all things throughout the land."
Bright lights shone from both sides, and a huge idol stood behind him, casting a dark shadow.
He stood at the intersection of light and shadow, as if wrapped in a mysterious atmosphere.
His hoarse voice reverberated around the stone hall and echoed for a long time.
"When lowly human beings destroy themselves, it is the time when God wakes up from his slumber."
"The great God will come to the world, bring the end to all things, and bring true immortality to us."
The black-robed priest raised his hand and pointed under the steps.
"Go ahead, after many years, the sacrifices chosen by God have returned to the imperial front once again under the guidance of God."
He says,
"Go and put this offering into the altar."
The three believers got up, quickly came to the unconscious crowd, and brought Heimos to the altar.
When Heimos was sent to the altar, a strong gray-black aura separated from the vortex and slowly spread to Heimos.
It surrounded Heimos little by little, permeating him, and the breath penetrated into his body, almost merging with it.
The black-robed priest nodded lightly, then looked back at the people below who were still unconscious.
"King of Aaron Landis..."
Staring at Garlan, the black-robed priest muttered to himself.
"...that bright soul like never before...must be dedicated to my God."
Randomly clicked on a believer, and the black-robed priest pointed down.
"Go, servant of the gods, and offer the head of the young king to the great god."
The believers bowed down and saluted with great piety.
Then, he stood up and walked down the stone steps to the boy.
The boy lay quietly on the ground, sideways, his long golden hair spread out on the stone ground.
The bright light reflected on his side face, making his long, slender eyelashes cast rosy shadows on his cheeks.
He closed his eyes, his brow calm.
In the slightly swaying light, the beautiful young man lying asleep on the ground of the stone hall was like a picture, quiet and beautiful.
The man standing in front of him raised his broad sword expressionlessly.
Slashed with a sword.
The sharp blade slashed straight towards the sleeping Garlan's neck—
…
…
With a whimper, it was the whistle of a car galloping past the window, which woke up the boy who was struggling to solve the problem.
He turned his head and glanced out the window, the originally clear night sky darkened at some point, and the light rain fell on the windowsill.
The cool night wind blew the drizzle in and fell inside the house.
The boy quickly got up and walked over to close the glass window.
Through the window, he looked at the night sky outside.
The entire sky was shrouded in thick black clouds, pitch black, no moonlight, no starlight.
He looked out the window, inexplicably lost.
I don't know if it was an illusion, but he always felt that he seemed to have seen the endless starry night sky somewhere.
That night sky, the starry sky, is so beautiful that it makes people fascinated.
When he looked up at the starry sky, someone was beside him, more than one person, accompany him to look at the starry sky, listening to the sound of waves lapping under the night sky.
[… do not forget…]
Slap, the rain suddenly became heavier, and the raindrops hit the glass window with a loud sound, which woke the boy up from his trance.
He shook his head.
Delusion.
He had never been to the seaside, how could he possibly have seen the starry sky by the seaside.
It's very late. If he stays up like this, his mind will be even less awake. It's time for him to sleep.
The boy thought so, raised his hand and yawned, and turned around to pack up and go to sleep.
Suddenly, when he raised his hand, his wrist lightened.
It was as if something on his wrist broke off and fell under his feet.
He subconsciously leaned over and picked up what was under his feet.
What he picked up was a bracelet he had never seen before. Although it was a pure gold strand, it had not been as smooth and bright as before because of time. The silk thread was very rough, faded, and became gray.
The gray-gold strands wear a lapis lazuli amulet, and the stone amulet that is not well polished has become smooth and round because it has been worn, stroked and played all year round, but the guardian rune carved on the stone is crooked. Appears rude.
A moment of dead silence.
Time stands still at this moment.
Even the rain outside the window solidified in mid-air.
pat.
Under the bright light, a drop of water fell on the smooth lapis lazuli rune.
The boy's eye sockets were hidden under the shadow of his forehead hair.
The bright light shone on his face, reflecting the shallow water mark on his cheek.
…
…
The man slashed down with a sword, and the icy blade was about to sever the neck of the boy lying on the ground—
Suddenly, the boy's tightly closed eyes moved.
As soon as he opened his eyes, sharp gold burst out from the shadow of his forehead.
Garland raised his hand suddenly.
With a clanging sound, the iron arm guard on his wrist blocked the sharp sword that was slashed at him.
The blade sparked violently from the bracer and slid to one side.
The gray-gold stranded wire worn on the wrist was broken, and the lapis lazuli amulet that was connected in series fell to the ground.
Garlan stood up abruptly, reached out and grabbed the cultist's hand holding the hilt of the sword, twisting it hard.
When the opponent let go of his hand subconsciously because of the pain, he grabbed the opponent's broad sword.
Then, clenching the hilt of the sword with both hands, a sword thrust forward.
The broad sword pierced through the man's chest fiercely. The man opened his eyes wide with disbelief.
bang.
He was lying on the ground on his back, his pupils dilated, the broad sword stuck in his chest.
Garlan stood in front of the dead cultist, panting softly.
As he calmed down his rapid breathing and pounding heartbeat, he raised his head and looked up.
The movement just now had alarmed the black-robed priest who was standing facing the altar. He turned around and stood on the high platform looking down at him, with a hint of surprise in his eyes, as if he didn't understand why he was able to wake up.
Garlan's gaze swept past the black-robed priest and the two kneeling cultists, and then landed on the altar.
The scepter of black bluestone stood quietly in the middle of the altar, as if there was an invisible vortex of airflow surging around it.
He leaned over to pick up the broken amulet and took a deep look.
[Gallan, don’t forget at any time, you are the crown prince of Aaron Landis and the future king of Aaron Landis.]
That day, in the bright sun.
The voice of King Camos, who put the crown of the crown prince on his head, seemed to ring in his ears again.
This was the first crude amulet he carved out for his brother when he was very young.
It was always worn by his royal brother and never left his body.
Until that day...
Since then, this old amulet has been worn on his hand.
Stuffing the broken amulet into his belt, Garlan stretched out his hand and picked up the long sword in front of Kaihos.
"don’t worry."
He whispered to his comatose knight, "I'll end it all and wake you up."
Grasping the long sword tightly, Garlan stood up and clasped the hilt with his fingers.
Wet blond hair scattered from his cheeks, revealing his golden pupils.
He stood there, looking up at the black-robed priest on the altar, his sword pointed at the ground.
The young king's eyes were bright and sharp.
That look made the black-robed priest's heart beat violently.
He has seen such eyes.
many years ago.
That terrifying... invincible man...
King Camos.
The king who has just reached the sun, the scorching sun is by his side, and all shadows are invisible in front of him.
All kinds of sorcery, ghostly tricks, can not be contaminated by the slightest.
The king of the lion who makes all religions hate and fear.
As far as the eye can see, the followers of the religion of all things tremble.
And now, he actually saw the same look in the eyes of the young king as that of the terrifying lion king.
The pupils shrank violently, and the black-robed priest's originally indifferent face changed, suddenly sank, and became icy cold.
Can't let him live.
This young king must not be allowed to live!
The black-robed priest showed a ruthless expression on his face and spoke coldly.
"Take the magic medicine, kill him, and offer his flesh to God."
As soon as he gave an order, the two believers kneeling at his feet swallowed the 'magic medicine' they carried with them without hesitation.
The believer who took the pill first had a frantic look in his eyes, ran down the stone steps, and slammed towards the boy who had just walked up the stone steps.
Garlan, who had already stepped on the stone steps, walked up.
He didn't walk fast, but step by step, unusually steady.
He always raised his head slightly, and looked forward with sharp eyes.
The black-robed priest stood on the high platform, condescendingly, looking down at Garlan who was walking towards him.
"What are you still holding on to?"
He said in a low voice.
The rich aroma rushed to the face, filling the stone palace.
The voice of the black-robed priest seemed to be able to infiltrate people's hearts along with the fragrance, shaking people's hearts.
"Fate is already doomed and cannot be changed. No matter what you do, it will follow the established trajectory."
In the deep words of the priest, the believers who swallowed the medicine had already rushed towards Garlan fiercely from above.
Garlan turned his body to one side and avoided it.
The believer who threw himself down was too hasty. Seeing that Garlan avoided him, he couldn't stop trying to stop. He passed Garlan's side, staggered down a few steps, and barely stopped.
He turned to pounce again.
But just when he was only halfway around, a sword light passed by, his head suddenly flew high, opened an arc in the air, and fell under the stone steps.
His body collapsed, and the blood spurting from his neck stained the boy's boots.
"Perhaps indeed, as you said, there is a predetermined destiny..."
Garlan raised his head, his golden pupils and the black-robed priest looked at each other for a moment.
The expression on his face was very calm, only those golden eyes were surprisingly bright.
"But you can't just do nothing because of that."
He continued to walk up, with a firm and powerful stride.
The blood-stained boots left a clear blood-red footprint every time they walked up a stone step.
Those surprisingly bright golden eyes made the black-robed priest feel uneasy for a moment, and then he was immediately suppressed by him.
He looked at the boy who had reached the middle of the stone steps, his eyes gloomy.
The believer standing in front of him let out a roar like a beast, his eyes were red, and he looked like a madman, and he slashed towards Garlan with a broad sword.
Garlan swiftly jumped to one side.
The cultist, who had become infinitely powerful, slashed the stone steps where Garlan had just stood with a fierce sword.
The broad sword was embedded in the stone steps, and just when the believer wanted to pull it out, Garlan had already rushed straight to him, and the long sword in his hand stabbed fiercely from between his eyebrows, piercing his throat. skull.
The blue veins on the black-robed priest's forehead jumped violently, and a trace of panic appeared in his eyes.
He forcibly suppressed the flustered feeling, still standing calmly beside the altar, looking down at Garlan who was walking towards him with a condescending attitude.
"Young king."
He said in a low voice like a sigh.
"A pawn used by the gods, a puppet of fate, what a sad existence."
He says,
"Are you going to continue your pathetic fate?"
He pulled out his long sword, stretched out his hand, and pushed aside the body of the cultist who was standing in front of him.
Garlan raised his head, he looked at the black-robed priest, and suddenly smiled.
He smiled and said, "It doesn't matter."
The black-robed priest's expression froze. He watched Garlan stride towards him again, and he was about to walk in front of him. For a while, he could no longer maintain that aloof attitude.
Anger appeared on his face, and his hoarse voice suddenly increased.
"Your whole life is just at the mercy of the gods! Even so, don't you care?"
"Yes, it doesn't matter even that."
The young man replied, determinedly and calmly.
His eyes were as sharp as swords and as bright as the morning stars.
He didn't stop, and continued to walk up step by step.
That look...
The same look in the eyes of that terrifying man...
[Where the sun goes, all the shadows have nowhere to hide.]
A trace of panic appeared on the black-robed priest's face. Unconsciously, he took a step back, as if he was afraid of the boy who walked towards him.
When he realized this, as if trying to suppress the sudden fear in his heart, he said sharply: "King of Aaron Landis, what you have done is in vain! You can't change the established order. The fate of my life! It can't save anyone!"
Garland shook his head.
"No, I saved Aaron Landis, countless people."
He answered calmly and continued to walk calmly towards the priest.
"Whether this is the arrangement of fate in your mouth or not, I have saved countless lives, that is the truth, and no one can deny it."
Unable to hide the panic in his heart, the black-robed priest's face had long since lost the arrogance and indifference of a god not long ago.
He looked at Garlan in horror, not understanding why the aroma and the power that God had bestowed on him had no effect, and could only take another step back helplessly.
As he stepped back, he continued to speak sharply, unwillingly, trying to shake Garlan.
"You will be abandoned, abandoned by the gods - a pawn like you, when you are completely useless, you will be abandoned by the gods, by fate!"
"Whether it's a chess piece or a puppet, no matter what the truth behind it is, it has nothing to do with me."
Garland said that he had walked up to the priest.
He stared at the priest's old and gray face with sharp eyes, and slowly raised the sword in his hand.
"I'm just doing what I want to do with my own will."
Guard Aaron Landis.
Protect those around me.
Guard this land.
Nothing to do with the gods, nothing to do with fate, this is my own will.
The black-robed priest looked terrified and staggered back.
"No... it shouldn't be like this... it shouldn't be like this..."
He spoke incoherently, his voice hoarse.
"You shouldn't disobey the destiny... God told me... The destiny has already been destined, the demise of Aaron Landis, the end of all things... This is the destiny, the destiny..."
"You shouldn't... nor disobey the destiny... yes, you can't do that..."
He rambled: "It's destiny, you can't..."
A silver-white sword light flashed across the air.
The sword light split the black-robed priest's chest.
The old man's pupils suddenly dilated, reflecting the blood splashing from his split chest.
He had seen it from the sacrifice countless times, but it was the first time that it splattered from him.
He opened his eyes, opened his mouth but couldn't say a word.
He fell down, turned his back to the sky, and fell into the altar.
The blood flowing from his chest stained the lines on the bluestone slab red.
He wasn't dead yet, breathing fast with his mouth open, eyes wide open, staring at Garlan unwillingly and resentfully.
Garlan glanced lightly at the old priest lying at his feet.
Eyes flickered.
Then, he turned around, clenched the sword in his hand, and walked to the other side.
As he walked, blood dripped down the ground he walked along the sword in his hand.
Looking at the direction Garlan was walking, the priest's face suddenly twisted.
His eyes were filled with horror, he lay on the ground and struggled hard, desperately reaching forward, trying to stop the terrible scene.
"No! You can't do that! No… no—"
In the roar of the old priest with all his strength, the fire was shaking, and the light and shadow were staggered in the stone hall.
Huge statues of gods stand in the shadows.
The gray-black vortex gathered around the scepter, invisible to ordinary people, shrank together as if afraid of something, shaking violently, as if it would collapse anytime, anywhere.
It seems to be madly resisting, and in an instant, an invisible air current gushes out in all directions in the stone hall with the altar as the center.
Garlan stood on the altar, in front of the black bluestone scepter.
The invisible airflow whizzed past him fiercely, surrounding him, raging fiercely, causing his long golden hair to fly like a cloud behind him.
"I am King of Aaron Landis."
"Son of the gods."
He said that Shamash's rune was like a burning flame under his flying forehead.
"If there really is a so-called destiny in this world..."
A snow-white sword light flashed across the air.
A click.
The black bluestone scepter in the center of the altar was cut off by the young Wang Yijian.
There seemed to be a huge and invisible air current in the hall that exploded at this moment.
"I am destiny!"