The gust of wind suddenly stopped, and all the sulphur and fire rain in the sky solidified in an instant.
The long sword in the angel's hand shone with incomparably dazzling light, and dazzling white appeared in the dark red and black as the main color of hell.
The ancient chants swayed in circles with holy wales as the center, solemn and vast, as if an army of angels had crossed the boundary between the kingdom of God and the world, and descended on this dead hell. They stood behind holy wales, adhering to the The sovereign will brought down the prophetic judgment.
The devil withdrew, holding a bone scepter, standing in the air, looking up at the brighter and brighter light.
He didn't try to interrupt everything St. Var was doing, because the "judgment" was something he couldn't interrupt.
The power of judgment does not come from St. Var himself, it is the mark left by God in the holy spirit of angels, and the reason why angels are angels, that is the source of their power, it is precisely because of that mark that they can have the ability to surpass mortals. the person above.
Hell is not within the boundaries forbidden by the "law", where all mystical powers will not be suppressed in any way.
And the failure a thousand years ago has made St. Var know what kind of enemy he is facing.
All temptation and attacks are in vain. If He does not want to fall completely, then he must directly use his strongest power from the beginning.
The breath of God appeared in hell, like a light suddenly lit in the thick darkness, so dazzling and so clear. Elsewhere in hell, the old lords kept awakening. In the darkness and wilderness, they whispered to themselves with a bit of shock, "Which lunatic brought the angels here?".
The swamps are rolling, the black sea is moving, the abyss is stupid... The hell that has been silent for thousands of years begins to have a commotion.
The madman who led the angel to hell is facing the judgment of God.
Countless black butterflies surged behind the devil, forming a tide-like black cloud again. The sounds of countless black butterflies fluttering together, forming a melody opposite to the angelic chants, harsh and cold. Clouds of black butterflies meander down from the sky, forming a road connecting mid-air to the ground.
At this time, this space presents a horrific chaos.
There were twists and turns in the space, and the sulfur raindrops in the sky disappeared immediately after falling into those space cracks.
The two rules are competing.
The rules of God and the rules of hell.
The "trial" itself is equivalent to the rules.
The judge masters the rules and is the ruler of the rules, making judgments on the basis of the rules. When the angel mobilized the seal of the gods, he began to tamper with the rules of this hell.
He used the power of the gods to introduce the rules of the kingdom of God into hell, thereby denying the existence of this hell.
With the angel as the center, an invisible heavy pressure shrouded the sky, and cracks began to appear in the charred rocks on the ground, and red gold magma was constantly splashing out of it. The rugged mountain walls began to disintegrate, and large blocks of boulders fell in various places.
This piece of hell was condemned as "not supposed to exist", and the angels were the ones who brought the end to it.
In the rumbling sound, the nightmare carriage passed through the gushing magma, and the skulls on the four wheels of the carriage spewed out countless large and small bones from their mouths in the sound of "clucking" bones.
The bones spewed out like a fountain from the skeleton's mouth regrouped one by one, forming a shield of white bones suspended around the carriage on all sides. The magma spurting from the ground and the boulders overhead were firmly blocked by the four shields. The crow parked on the top of the carriage flapped its wings and screamed nervously, and its voice was drowned in the sound of the sky breaking down.
The nightmare carriage arrived at the black butterfly road extending from mid-air.
The king has awakened.
The king jumped out of the carriage and landed steadily on the long road made up of black butterflies. At the moment when the king stepped on, the streamer-like path of the black butterfly quickly retracted, bringing the king to the devil's side.
The devil handed the white bone scepter to the king, and opened the black umbrella that concealed the keel sword.
At this time, the angel in the sky was suspended there, shrouded in light, like a sun rising in hell.
The black group of butterflies formed a huge throne, and the silver-haired king sat on the throne, opposite the floating angel. He held the bone scepter, with a hand with a "greed and ill-gotten wealth" authority ring on the top of the scepter. Obviously only a mortal, but the king is so majestic at this time as if he holds the authority of the whole world.
- He is like the king of the whole world.
The strong wind whipped the king's silver hair fiercely, and the figure of an angel was printed in his icy blue pupils.
In his pupils, the angels have become small.
"This place follows the old orders."
The king gave the order indifferently, without a trace of emotion.
The icy command resounded through the heavens and the earth, like an ancient bronze bell being struck, and the sound shook the entire century.
On the black earth, the magma flowed back and the cracks closed again. The space was originally like a crumpled piece of paper, with countless twisted folds, but now a pair of invisible hands brushed past and smoothed those folds one by one. Mountains no longer disintegrate.
In this hell, the distorted and chaotic order due to the "judgment" of the angels is rebuilt in the voice of the king.
"recovery."
After the first order was finished, the king felt as if his strength was completely taken away in an instant, and a sharp headache occurred almost instantly. He gritted his teeth and issued a second order.
This still long river of dead spirits suddenly boiled, and one after another, the pale dead souls raised their heads in unison, and let out a piercing scream. All the corpses hanging from those jagged ridges raised their hands to pluck themselves from their ropes, and their dark wings stretched out from their backs. Cracks began to appear on the wall of hundreds of insects, where countless bones were buried, and those bones that became fossils struggled to climb out of it.
This hell has been dead for a long time.
But under the king's orders, the hell began to revive.
However, at this moment of "recovery" in this hell, the long sword clenched by the angel's hands was finally cut off. Like a beam of sword light, everything it passes is ignited. A brilliant golden flame was left in the air, in which there were countless images of angels in armor.
This is a sword and an army.
God is the Lord of Armies. When Saint Val was still in the world, he was his beloved one. When Saint Val was about to fall for the second time, He crossed the kingdom of God with the help of the imprint of Saint Val's Angel Holy Spirit. And the boundary of hell, an army descended.
The "last day" judgment comes.
A torrent of flames swept from the sky, and the king's pupils printed the thousands of swords contained in the red gold flames. God punishes heaven and earth... The apostles of the Holy Court claimed that "God judges the world, and if the unclean and the wrong will be washed with fire and blood".
Is this the sword of God
"Yes, this is it."
The devil whispered, standing beside the king, he seemed to guess what the king was thinking. The devil held the umbrella, with a rare indifferent expression on his face, he glanced sideways at the king. When the fire of this god was about to burn the world, he leaned over slightly as usual.
"And I am your sword. Your Majesty."
The crow named "Monra" that had been hovering beside the king made a loud cry, which was like the charging horn of the human army.
Behind the king, the black-winged corpse and the white bones crawling out of the Hundred Insect Wall rose to the sky. They were tens of thousands, like the sand as the sea, and they were like devils. After many years, they once again served the same person. , they are the king's army. Commanding this army is the devil who stepped out, and his black dress swept away a faint afterimage.
The devil is like a goshawk into the sky, behind him is the torrent of hell.
They took the initiative to meet the angel's blow, and the two torrents collided in mid-air, and the sound of the collision seemed to sound like countless thunders at the same time.
The two torrents collided, the shadow of the angel and the bones of the corpse were fighting in the flames and black fog, the devil leaped from the deadlocked front, the keel sword in his hand slanted down, he split all obstacles along the way, His eyes were fixed on Saint Vaal in armor.
Thick black mist rolled over the devil's body. As he approached the angel, the black mist around him was constantly weakened by the bright holy light.
The devil didn't care, he used himself as a sharp blade, ready for the final fatal blow. The person who holds the sword only needs to care about whether it will hit the target in the end, and does not need to care about what kind of danger the sword itself faces. The devil is indeed willing to be a knife and a sword, and there is never only one person who can drive this knife and this sword.
The man sat on the throne.
In hell, which is regarded as the abyss of evil and the nest of evil, black butterflies hover around the king, like thousands of pilgrims. And his army is fighting at his will.
The king raised his head.
He watched the bones fall like rain with flames, the corpse disappeared with the ghost of the angel, and the devil collided with the sword of Saint Vaal.
The world suddenly fell silent.
The devil, whose black dress was already full of cracks, nailed the keel sword into the chest of Saint Vaal, whose armor was broken. He drew out his long sword, fire and light dissipated from Saint Vaal's body, the legion-like phantoms of angels dissipated one by one, the armor on Saint Vaal split and fell off, and his face began to change.
The face of the angel is disappearing, and what emerges is a mortal, not-so-perfect, handsome face.
That's Warwick Bly.
The pupils of the young white-robed cultivator reflected the dark red sky, the golden flames that had not yet dissipated, his eyes gradually dissipated, and the wings behind him were disappearing. He will fall down, but he is looking up at the sky.
"So...that's it."
He muttered to himself, as if he had finally got an answer, and the next moment his body shattered into thousands of light spots, like a container that could not endure at last.
On the tip of the devil's sword, a drop of golden blood slowly slid down.
That drop of blood fell down, dripping onto the blackened terracotta.
The king heard the sound of blood dripping.
despair.
The sound of the angel's blood dripping turned out to be the same as that of a mortal.
…
Blaise, St. Var's Cathedral.
A white-haired archbishop stood silently in front of a statue of an angel.
He raised his head and looked at the holy Saint Val, tears slowly falling from his wrinkled face.
"Annil... you're right."
The old archbishop was in tears.
Who in this world can have no selfishness? Who can restrain their love and helplessness? Warwick Bly... his nephew! It was the last blood of his only brother left in this world. That pious child, who did not know until his death, that his mentor was actually his only relative in the world.
"Mr. Bishop."
In a low voice, the messenger sent by Ferry III stood behind him.
"Now, are you willing to join us?"