After Becoming The Tyrant

Chapter 114: Castle and Dance

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Everyone fears hell, where all sins finally converge.

In the long and winding undead river in hell, the crowded souls have committed unforgivable mistakes. They came here not to wait for redemption but to finally fall into the bottomless abyss.

This is the dark side of the world.

The translucent undead sits on the jagged rocks, his clothes are ancient and complicated, and he was a court dramatist many years ago. Now he is sitting on a strange rock, singing a very old story in a hoarse bass in the howling wind. A story about contracts, blood and bones.

In the description of the story, the true face of this world is countless broken authorities, and different races are running on the earth, doing their best to ascend to the highest throne. Different races have different powers, but humans do not. It is as if human beings are abandoned children between heaven and earth, born as grass and trees that are left to waste. The endless war, the endless death. In those times, someone wanted to seize the highest throne in the world and use power and majesty to smash all chaos.

In that ridiculous story, a king who had nothing and made a pact with a lone devil.

Their pact was destined to change the world from the moment they were born.

In the singing, Li Feng smashed into the peak of Qianren and shattered into a whimpering sound, the skeletons were lying on the ground, the smoke of the iron-smelting blast furnace was scattered, the meteor fell, and the keel raised its head...

It was like, heaven and earth were torn apart for the story in that song.

… … … …

Dragon Skeleton Castle.

The crow Monra perched on the slender rose branch, and it looked at the throne of bones in the middle of the palace.

It was a throne where the skeletons of different hell creatures were shrunk together and then piled up with the most exquisite craftsmanship. A throne made of thousands of bones itself means a sea of corpses and a sea of blood. That throne has been empty for many, many years, but now it has once again welcomed its owner.

The king sits on the throne of bones.

He no longer wore the crown of the Pope's coronation, gold and gems twisted and changed shape silently, and finally became a crown of thorns, embellished with dark red gems. A crown of thorns hoops around his temples, his silver hair falls on his shoulders, and a lace scarf embroidered with silver thread is turned out over his collar and cuffs.

He opened his eyes.

The coldest, most imposing, and most beautiful palace in the world is printed in the eyes of the king's ice blue.

The slender white bone pillars are straight up, supporting the staggered vault ribs. Those arc-shaped long beams are built with the ribs of real legendary creatures. Countless flying buttresses line the side of the palace, like thousands of winged beasts that are about to fly. The window lattices inside the castle are beautifully curved, forming thousands of patterns, and roses are everywhere. Beginning from the rib of the splayed branches of ginseng, the roses spread upward to the slender and luxurious fan-shaped vaults, and the branches and leaves hang around the bones.

The deepest and deepest place in memory, as if a string was gently touched.

An indescribable familiarity, as if the wheel of time is slowly turning, more than a thousand years have passed by, and when the old man returns after more than a thousand years, everything remains the same as before.

"Welcome, my dear majesty."

The devil stepped forward on the dark red carpet in a black dress with silver fringe and dark lines, with blooming roses pinned to his collar. The "Soul Merchant" of hell was tall and thin, pale and handsome, and as polite as a housekeeper who had guarded the mansion for his master for many years.

—Welcome back to the throne, welcome to tear this world apart with me.

When he leaned over to salute, his tone contained unprecedented joy.

"What is this place?"

the king asked.

"Dragon Skeleton Castle, your palace."

The devil answered.

The crow Mengla was so excited that he almost wanted to cry. It imagined the picture of the throne with its owner too many times. But when it really waited, it didn't dare to jump up and crawl in front of the king. Because the devil stood before the king's throne, their eyes met, the king's face was expressionless, and the devil's face wore a smiling mask.

The air was extra tense.

The devil seemed unaware.

"They're too rude," he said briskly, "your arrival is such an important day, it's time for all the guys to offer congratulations... But please forgive them, after all, it takes a lot of time to come from various territories. ."

The "they" in the devil's mouth is the king and his target - the lords of hell.

"So-"

The smile on the devil's face widened, and he gestured toward the king with an inviting hand.

"Would you like to attend a little dance? This is an invitation from the castle to you."

When the devil's voice fell, all the rose vines coiling in the castle shook their leaves gently, and the rustling voice was as gentle as those beautiful souls who had left were whispering softly. A little snow-like light fell from the dome, and the empty palace had a diamond-like brilliance.

The wind traversed between the slender pillars and beams, and the slender eaves of the winged beast-like flying buttresses unfolded. It turned out that the eaves were made of countless delicate and delicate wing bones. As they unfolded again, the thin wing bones flapped softly in the wind like a conductor's bat. The wind was cut by the thin wing bones, making a strange sound, like thousands of slender hands singing with the wind as the strings at the same time. The melody of those voices is extremely beautiful, forming a movement like never before.

The devil was right, it was a welcome dance indeed.

This dance was held by the castle that had been silent for many years.

Over the heads of the devil and the king, fine stained windows opened one after another, and pale light slanted down from above them. The devil was standing in a beam of light, holding out his hand to the king in his black ball gown.

Gollum, gollum.

A skeleton skull rolled in, and the crow Mengla spread its wings and landed in front of the skull. It did not know where to find two drumsticks, holding them with their wings, and beat the drums high or low with the melody of the wind. .

"There's always a dance at the ball, Your Majesty."

Devil invites.

The movement played with the wind as the string is poignant but with unprecedented grandeur, as if the heaven and the earth are singing in a low voice. The king felt a tinge of joy and anticipation—the joy and anticipation of the castle itself. Like Munla pounding the drums, the castle expects the king to accept their welcome.

He stretched out his hand.

The devil took the king's hand with the rose ring, pulled him up, and took him off the throne. At the moment when the king accepted the devil's invitation, the melody of the wind suddenly became excited, like a dance song at a ball. The devil took the king and led him around in the middle of the empty palace.

The king attended many balls. As the king of Legrand, he received the most complete etiquette training, including dancing.

But the dance the devil led him to dance was not any kind of dance at a human banquet.

The melody of the wind was magnificent, and the devil always held the hand of the king with the rose ring, and the king felt that the ring was getting hot. The rose vines wrapped around the bones grew petals one by one, and the roses bloomed with an elegant melody, and the petals were continuously blown off by the wind and carried to all directions of the castle.

In the silent rooms of the castle, when the rose petals fell, the silver coffins suddenly opened.

From the coffin walked out a maid and servant dressed in Chinese clothes.

With pale delicate faces and dark red eyes, they began to tidy up the castle and make it gorgeous and brilliant.

On the darkest side of the world, the devil holds his king and dances to a melody of bones and wind. And at the moment when the castle woke up, a cold light fell from the crack in the dark red sky of hell.

Not the color of blood, not the orange of sulphur, but a light as cold and pale as snow.

The singing undead poet stopped, the skeletons kneeling on the ground raised their heads, the corpse hanging on Qianren Peak slowly turned, and the restless lord of the abyss stopped making a sound. After so many years, other colors finally appeared on the dark red sky on the dark side.

A pale moon rose slowly from the gap, curved thinly, and embedded in the sky like a sickle.

Hell was suddenly silent.

"Welcome back."

The devil whispered, a smile on the corners of his lips.

The scene of the falling meteor cast a deep shadow on Telde, and when the moon rose in the sky of hell, it intuitively sensed that something bad was going on.

It struggled to figure out from the other lords what the pale moonrise meant.

It is a pity that the lords with similar strength do not know, and the lords who know are much stronger than it, so it does not dare to ask.

The only consolation is that there is no other movement in that Blackrock Castle except for the dragon roar that day.

Probably not a big deal.

Thiel so comforted himself.

Just when it thought so, a black butterfly flew slowly to its mother's nest. When he saw the black butterfly, Tyrd was almost subconsciously vigilant—all hell creatures knew that the black butterfly was the representative of that soul merchant.

Heck! It doesn't seem to have done anything to provoke that lunatic, does it

In front of Tyler, the black butterfly shattered and turned into a black invitation that fell erratically from mid-air.

Tyrde looked at the invitation as if facing an enemy, and only put it in front of his eyes after confirming that there was no danger. It was a very delicate invitation. Looking at the gorgeous style of the invitation, it was like the vampires who disappeared from hell for many years. On the invitation, a piece of rose petals was used as the seal of the lacquer.

"what is this?"

Tyrd asked suspiciously.

At the same time, all the lords of hell received the exact same invitation.

The content of the invitation was about a banquet, which was to be held a few days later.

The address of the banquet—

Blackrock Castle.