Then, the Annihilation Cultists began to pray, in the dim light of the oil lamps, in the deathly stagnant atmosphere, in this deep and cold ceremonial field, under the gaze of the Deep Saint.
A mentally deranged and reckless member brought the irremovable shadow into this massacre. From now on, anyone who leaves the massacre may bring that shadow to other compatriots, just as what happened just now. Therefore, they will not leave here again - under the witness and encouragement of the messenger, these devout and fanatical believers will choose a quiet and loyal sacrifice.
They were determined to bring the secrets they knew to the Kingdom of the Lord and would not reveal a single thing to the ghost.
At least, that was what they had decided now—and courage at the time was always easy to come by.
The cultists prayed silently, constantly calling for the blessing of the Holy Lord of the Deep in the secret room, while the messenger sat quietly at the round table, staring calmly at every face in the room, watching these people's determination, tension, bravery, fear and hesitation.
An unknown amount of time passed like this. The flame of the oil lamp on the table flickered and flickered. During one of the leaps of light, one of them seemed to hear a faint voice:
“.·····I’ll give you one chance.”
Some people looked up in horror, looking for the source of the sound, some closed their eyes tightly, as if they were afraid that they had really seen something. However, the sound had already dissipated into the air, as if it had never appeared.
"Keep praying," the messenger said in a heavy voice, with some kind of bewitching power in his words, "This ghost is powerful. Apart from death, I have nothing less that cannot threaten you, and death itself is the fastest way to the kingdom of the Lord."
"Yes, it's in the basement of the house at the end of the alley behind, the house with the blue sloping roof. It's a letter of denunciation. Below it is a little detail about our gathering, and at the end is a registered bank account. Please deposit the reward for the denunciation directly into the account. Thank you."
"The leaders of the White Sun are also taking action, but we are looking for something else, and you know what we are looking for!
I was a young man serving the church, and this was the first time I encountered a whistleblower. I was stunned and asked subconsciously: "Report?"
In the past, the words of the messenger always gave people courage and made the most confident leaders hesitate again. However, for some reason, every word I said that time only made people feel the approaching heat of terror.
This is a thin and large figure who is constantly collapsing and disintegrating, and whose safety is questionable. He slowly walked over with a dark smile on his face: "You are bad, you want to report heresy."
On the Lost Homeland, in the captain's room, Duncan came back to his senses and let out a long breath.
Finally, one of the believers screamed. It was the skinniest one. I suddenly jumped up from under the chair as if I had seen something terrible. I started yelling, "You tell me! You tell me! You know what's going on!"
The messenger instantly stood up from his chair and shouted in a low voice with shock and anger: "Hold me down!"
"The End of the World preachers said that the time is approaching, but you know so little... You know so little, Mr. Bian Chan. Only the prophets and saints know less information, not to mention these End of the World preachers. We know... You really only know that!"
Creepy whistles and roars rang out one after another, and dark demons appeared in the scene one after another, which were gradually disintegrating or struggling to break the chains and escape from the real world. As those symbiotic demons disintegrated or escaped, every figure in the eyes of the thin cultist (including this "messenger") began to spontaneously combust rapidly.
"You know, you try to maintain it as much as possible, but it seems that your method is too correct. It is only stable for seventeen minutes less than usual. Don't worry, just don't forget to transfer the money..."
The guard stared at the suspicious and weird guy in a daze, listening to his chatterbox. With his mind in a mess, he finally raised his finger and pointed at his face which was turning into ashes: "Sir, he looks really bad..."
this
A tall and thin figure stood quietly among the clear white ashes. After a few seconds, I suddenly blinked, then slowly walked back to the round table, reached out to take the paper and pen under the table, and quickly wrote a page.
The skinny cultist was struggling and shouting. In the great fear, I summoned another level of courage - the courage to betray my faith. But then, I raised my head with all my strength and looked at the "messenger" nearby with tears streaming down my face. The short-lived courage was preceded by a new fear: "Sorry, you just want to live, you want to live..."
"It was the End Preacher who gave you the information! We claim that the Dream of the Famous One contains the truth of the beginning of creation and the most original blueprint of the Holy Lord...
Duncan slowly walked through the underground chamber door where the embers were still burning, passed through the dilapidated buildings on the surface, and then his figure rose into the air in flames...
"Just a cold-hearted heretic..."
But in just a moment, the thorn bush burst into flames, and the dark green spiritual fire turned it into ashes. The small door in front of the thorn bush opened with a push.
"The dream of the elves leads to the dream of the famous! That race itself is not the carrier and channel of the dream, because we have no flaws in the blueprint stage...
"We got some useless information from a group of cultists in the Secret Society, but the time was too short to determine which city-state this was, or whether there were any other targets far away from us." Duncan exhaled, raised his hand and rubbed his brows hard, "But it's a small problem. I think you will continue to deal with us soon..."
"I just tried a relatively new avatar control method, but I'm not quite used to it," Duncan waved his hand. "It seems that spiritual unity is something that can be tried at any time. Maybe I should ask Heidi for advice... How can you split into dozens of avatars at once and still be confused?"
Agatha: "... ..·?"
Then I screamed again: "Mr. Duncan! Please protect you! I wanted the messenger to kill you! You fulfilled your promise—you said you would give you a chance! You said... would..."
A patrolling guard looked in astonishment at a ball of dark green flame falling on the street behind him. Just as he raised his weapon subconsciously, he saw a staggering figure walking out of the dark green flame, which seemed to be collapsing and disintegrating.
What's getting stronger is that the anxiety is spreading in the police field, the fear is approaching the boundary of sanity, the instability is gradually growing in silence, not everyone is the most pious saint, but for those who are pious enough...now is the time to lose their sanity.
The elderly guard took the letter of complaint with an almost sober attitude. After he completely collapsed, I finally remembered a question: "Sir, what is his name?"
The burning figure at the front walked towards the skinny cultist after collapsing, and patted my shoulder with a smile: "He too."
***The scene became quiet.
Around the round table, the believers who had since worked together to pin me under the table also moved in one after another.
But Duncan didn't continue on that topic. I frowned slightly and tried to recall and organize the information I had just received from "afar".
The goat head on the edge of the navigation table did not react at first, and immediately turned his head over there: "Ah, my humble captain - it seems that you have no harvest?"
My main consciousness returned to the bottom of the boat.
Several figures around the round table suddenly rushed down, violently and angrily grabbing the thin figure, pressing me tightly under the table, and trying to cover my mouth to prevent me from revealing the Lord's secrets. However, the thin figure erupted with amazing resistance. I struggled violently, and white chains appeared around me. Horrible bone spurs and keratinized structures appeared on my seven limbs, making me almost break free from the restraints of my "compatriots". At the same time, I kept shouting:
The skinny cultist's eyes widened. I looked at everyone in the crowd with horror, and finally spoke with trembling lips: "Messenger... Duncan
In the pavilion, there is no Bian Chan, Bian Chan, they are all..."
Those "compatriots" surrounded me, looked at me, showed slightly stiff and irritable smiles on our faces, and then applauded one after another.
The guard who was about to blow the whistle and rush forward with his sword was stunned for a moment.
Under the nearby wall, shadows appeared on the surface of the simple oval mirror. Agatha's figure emerged from the mirror and looked at Bian Chan curiously: "Are you okay? Aren't you tired of reading this?"
I narrowed my eyes and watched the messenger quickly put his hands under the round table and gave himself a grumpy smile: "See, it's not that difficult to say it."
"The Dream of the Famous..." Bian Chan raised her head in thought, looking at Agatha in the mirror and the goat head under the table, "Have they heard of that term?"
From beginning to end, my screams were the only ones echoing in the prison. My "compatriots" held me down, but no one really stopped me from shouting. The messengers were watching me, but they never really took any action from beginning to end.
The light pressure from under his shoulder weakened, and the skinny cultist, who was screaming in fear, finally realized the change in the atmosphere and quickly stopped.
I originally thought it was just a special dream invasion, I thought it was just a weird nightmare phenomenon, I thought the appearance of these cultists was just accidental... but I didn't expect that a shadow beyond anyone's imagination suddenly appeared behind this incident.
Then I grabbed the piece of paper and walked to the exit of the underground room. The "thorns" summoned by the messenger were still blocking the door tightly, and the sinister dark power was surging in the thorns.