Abyss Strait, east side.
After the Black Dragon was killed and the news of the defeat of the Balin mercenaries came back to the Holy Court, the Pope sighed softly.
"Sure enough, it's an alchemist."
He whispered, as if a long-speculated judgment had been confirmed.
One thing was delivered to the Pope across the Abyss Strait under the escort of the fleet through the hands of the head of the trial bureau. It was a crystal ball that belonged to witches. The Trial Bureau had hunted down countless witches since a thousand years ago, and the Holy See also preserved a lot of things that belonged to witches.
This crystal ball records the entire process of the black dragon being beheaded by the alchemist knight.
The Seventh Sanctuary of the Holy Court has been re-engraved, and at this time, it is repeatedly observing the recorded abilities of the Alchemy Knights, comparing to the many files preserved by the Holy Court.
Apart from the killing of the Black Dragon, the defeat of the Balin mercenaries was nothing to the huge Holy Court. The Pope never expected that in the Legrand Empire, the rebellion would cause serious damage to the family. On the other hand, the purpose of the Pope has also been achieved—
The collection of the expedition force has been carried out in an orderly manner, and the believers of the Holy Lord have gathered in various countries. When the Balin column mercenaries and the head of the inquisition started a war in Legrand, the Holy See's army gathered in tens of thousands.
All the price paid is worth it.
The hired mercenary corps forced Legrand to take special measures to drive the anger of the people against the greedy nobles. The slaughtered descendants of the black dragon let the alchemy knights hidden in the darkness enter the battlefield ahead of time. Although King Legrand was able to take advantage of this chaos and temporarily temper his empire into an iron plate, the Holy Court also got what it wanted at the cost of not touching the backbone.
It's like two undead factions are in the attack, for some purposes, they have reached an alternative "cooperation" in a subtle way.
This brutal dance of death is spinning rapidly, unpredictable until the sword is drawn.
"Legrand, Purland I."
The Pope stood up, alone in the room.
He pressed a switch in the study, and the ancient wooden bookshelf slid aside, revealing a long dark passage full of ancient paintings. The candles in the dark passage ignited automatically as the air poured in, and the fire was bright. The candle light shines on the painting, illuminating countless pictures that will never appear before the eyes of believers.
This is history hidden from the Holy See.
About the Gods, the Millennium Kingdom and the Battle of Judgment.
For a thousand years, the Holy Court has carefully concealed them. Even within the Holy Court, it is a top secret.
The Pope walked in and walked along the promenade. The ancient pictures were painted with unknown pigments. After a long time, the color is still as bright as ever. All the remnants of the old gods of the abyss and the hopeless inland seas are painted, in addition to many forgotten old gods, each of them standing high in the sky with weapons. The world is divided into three layers, the sky, the ground and the underground. The sky is the realm of the gods and the bright side of the world. There are towering and unimaginable buildings suspended in the sky. The ground is the human world, a place where light and darkness are intertwined. At the bottom is hell, the dark side of the world, the red fire, sulfur, and black rock wasteland, where demons are like snakes, entangled and slaughtered.
At that time, the agents of the gods were mixed with the dark creatures of hell on the ground at the same time. The world has become the most complex melting pot in the world.
In the middle of the promenade, is a scene depicting the wise man Percy deciphering an ancient language on the eve of the destruction of the ancient city of Billy.
The clouds in the sky were red as blood, the abyss on the sea was boiling, the thick fog was surging in the darkness, and countless shadows made mistakes. Over the ancient city of Billy, dark clouds piled up like mountains, and thunder roamed through them like snakes and dragons.
The old man of the ancient city knelt down on the square, the crowd avoided the wise man far away, and even his students were afraid to touch it. Only the skinny wise man holding the ancient scroll, driven by some kind of power, read out the terrifying, eternal prophecy word by word... or call it a curse.
"The earth will be turned forever, and the humblest will rule over the graveyard, the lower will be the upper, the upper will be the lower, endlessly, like two sides of a coin, changing and impermanent."
After this prophecy was read, the storm plummeted and thunder destroyed the ancient city of Billy.
Then there is the never-ending war, sometimes a war between gods and gods, sometimes a war between gods and demons, and sometimes a war between demons and demons. In the turmoil of war, if human beings follow the waves, they are flicked from left to right and live in the cracks. Gradually, however, human shadows began to join the war.
Since then, there has been a shadow of the throne in the sky, which has gradually become clear from blurred. All races, all beings, climb to it with all their might.
The painting in the middle was vacant for a long time, and the Pope walked past the empty wall and came to the end of the promenade.
There is the last painting there.
The Pope stood before the last painting, looking up at it.
On the screen, there is no camp in the battle, and it seems that the real face of the world is only fighting.
The gods fight against the gods, the gods fight against the demons, the gods fight against the mortals, the mortals fight against the demons, the demons fight against the demons... Finally, the mortals fight against the mortals. In the sky, there is a throne that has just condensed its prototype. The throne is empty, and the crown is shattering and destroying under the blood-red moon.
This is a sad painting that freezes the world's greatest irony, bloodiest battlefield, saddest death, and most shameful betrayal.
"How can man expect the gods to save him?"
The Pope looked at the painting and said softly.
There is no one other than him, the history and the truth are hidden in the shocking paintings, and time seems to be dead here.
…
Night fell gradually.
The devil walks in the dark, wandering the streets and alleys of Metzl Castle. Rarely did he not appear directly in the king's room, walking in the king's capital city for the first time.
He didn't deliberately hide himself. Passing by the drunks, the night watchmen, the city's nocturnalists saw a strange nocturnal traveller who, to them, seemed eccentric - tall and thin, dressed in a fine black dress, holding a He took the black umbrella. Under the black umbrella, he could see a scarlet rose flower pinned to his shirt.
A drunk holding a wine jar stood in front of him.
This unfortunate guy, who was enough to make the whole hell applaud him, was lucky enough to have a face-to-face with him. Pale as if it were human skin, the cheekbones were high and thin and aggressive. He was a handsome, but somber fellow that even the most dissolute Moulin Rouge would not want to approach him.
His pupils were so dark that nothing could be printed, and all the light would be swallowed up by the utterly malicious darkness.
The devil silently passed by the drunken tramp, and the guy behind him fell straight down as he passed. All the gazes peeping at this elegant "fat sheep" in the dark disappeared in an instant.
a city.
The city of mortals, the city of Your Majesty.
The tiniest sound in the city falls into the devil's ears.
Good, bad, chaotic... All emperors should know that no matter how great they are and how much they love their people, at any time in the country, someone will yell at him and criticize him in every possible way.
His Majesty should know this.
His Majesty knew this.
The devil stood on a street, listening to those voices mixed with dissatisfaction with the king, turning the black umbrella gently. Since going to the extreme north, the devil has been suppressing his tyranny. The thought of wanting to destroy the whole world altogether cannot be quelled even after the death of the World Serpent.
even intensified.
The things he didn't want to think about that angered him were awakened by its words during the battle with the World Serpent, and then lingered in his mind.
He once failed to catch his majesty.
…
The sword of the betrayer runs through the heart of the king, and the world falls into a never-ending slaughter, with gods, demons, and mortals all fighting to the death in chaos. He crossed most of the battlefield and found his contractor on that deserted beach. The crown of the sky is crumbling and shattering, and the soul that belongs to him is disappearing little by little.
"Your Majesty, you have broken the contract."
he said hoarsely. He lifted the king from the pool of blood, he was covered in blood, and his king was covered in blood, and the heaven and the earth were fighting, and they stood alone in a place where no one cared.
"Your soul should belong to me."
He's not grieving, the devil doesn't have that. He was just angry, angry that his treasure was destroyed by others.
It should have belonged to him in the end.
Those icy blue pupils imprinted the throne and crown of destruction in the sky. He did not answer, but handed the bone scepter to the devil.
The devil was stripped of his name, and his power came from the authority of the king, but now the man who gave him his power is completely gone. He will once again return to the lonely and angry cursed one who was banished to the end of the world long ago.
In this war that has almost destroyed everything, the crown and the throne have been destroyed, and the only remaining bone scepter is the last remaining king's authority.
Now, the king handed it to the devil.
Why give it to me? The devil thought, I'm a sinister, cunning, despicable and shameless devil. With the authority of the bones, I can tear up the contract. Anyway, you are completely destroyed. I can't even get a piece of soul. I don't need to serve you anymore. Are you expecting a hellish devil's conscience to find out and to serve you dutifully after you dissipate
Stop kidding.
"Your Majesty, do you really want to give the scepter to a devil who is full of lies? Aren't you afraid that your royal city will change its owner?" His voice was as frivolous as ever.
"God has given us the greatest power, and at the same time, we are asked to take it at the heaviest price." The king's pupils were printed with the shadow of the crown that was gradually cracking in the sky, "The contract says that if we want to overthrow this world together, then never Terminate, never drop your sword... this is the order."
final order.
The slaughter on the battlefield continues, gods and gods continue to fall, and the lords of hell continue to die, covered with bones and mountains of blood. In this chaos, the king's voice was barely audible.
But the devil could hear it clearly.
He was stunned for a while.
That's what they said when they first met, "Never end, never give up the sword".
"Well, if this is your order."
He was quiet for a while and took the bone scepter.
The sky is dark, the wind is crying, the world is reduced to a battlefield, and the soldiers are fighting, but it is still as silent as death. He hugged his majesty and sat on the jagged black rock, watching the long river of brimstone dry up and recede a little bit, watching the corpses falling one after another. His Majesty was as quiet as he was, terribly quiet.
"… Your Majesty?"
After a long time, he whispered.
It should be the same as usual, his majesty will only raise his eyes slightly, and be too lazy to answer silently.
The devil put his hand over the king's eye.
"Good night, Your Majesty."
…
He walked to the gate of the palace, stood for a long time in the cold wind, and then walked in quietly.
Just like the time when he couldn't wait to take the king's soul away, the guards of the palace didn't find him. He walked through the familiar corridors, and finally opened the door gently.
Moonlight fell into the room from the window and fell on the high-backed chair by the window.
The silver-haired and blue-eyed monarch sat on a chair, yet to fall asleep.
"Should I say 'good night'? My dear majesty."
The devil froze for a moment and said with a smile.
"Then shall I say 'hello', knight," the king rhetorically.
"If you wish."
The king looked at him, his smiling expression like an impeccable mask.
"Hello, knight."