"Despicable stranger."
Hearing that Ryan Sam recognized those sacrificed friends again, the old elf on the top of the bookcase couldn't help cursing, but neither Jenkins nor Ryan Sam paid attention.
"You can also sacrifice yourself."
Jenkins looked at him strangely.
"Myself?"
Old Man Leonsum frowned, then looked out of the window suddenly.
"You realized it a long time ago, that's why you were so afraid after the angels appeared. I think you should know that it is meaningful for Nolan at the end of the era to save the people in the whole city after your sacrifice. Extraordinary, so the curse can disappear. But you are reluctant to part with your almost eternal life. Although you are burdened with the curse of eternal life, you also appreciate its convenience, so you want to find a [foreigner] who can be freed without sacrificing yourself... "
"That's an angel of the gods outside, young man, even if I bravely ran out with a kitchen knife, it probably wouldn't be useful."
"Fate has already marked a certain price..."
The thunder sounded again, and two black shadows flashed through the window, even Jenkins couldn't tell which side it was.
"Since you also believe in fate, you should have guessed what you should do now. Thirty years ago, Mr. Sianod, who was supposed to go on an expedition with you, was anxious to raise money to buy an elf creation. Survived by accident. And the thing he bought..."
"B-01-1-8381 [Elf's Arrow of Destruction], sacrifice a mortal's soul, sacrifice a special creation, sacrifice an expensive currency, shoot an arrow with the strongest posture... Only those with elven blood Creatures can use that arrow, and once it is shot, the arrow is protected from recovery, but at least it can play the effect of blowing up an entire forest."
The old elf said this piece of information, and then looked at Jenkins with piercing eyes:
"Even in the world of elves, this is a fetish that can only be forged in hundreds of years. It is a mortal creature worthy of dedicating to the great man we believe in. If I am in my current state, I will shoot at the ground without taking risks. That arrow can barely blow up one-third of Nolan. Once the strength is strengthened through [Devotion], the more strange and twisted the soul, the more magical the special creation, the more powerful the arrow will be, but the sin coins... "
"I have the seed of blasphemy, don't worry about it."
Jenkins said, and then looked at the old man who was strangled by himself:
"I also have special items, and I can make sacrifices. But fresh souls, I think you have to sacrifice a little bit, which is also good for you. Don't you always want to be free?"
Jenkins didn't think he was a bad person, but when he said this, he felt inexplicably that he was really a big villain.
The old Leon Sam who was pinched by him shivered suddenly, and then squeezed out a voice from his throat:
"No no, I don't want to sacrifice, I have my own way to solve that curse, I don't..."
"Are you still looking forward to [Stranger]?"
With his empty left hand, he punched the old man in the abdomen again. While he was clutching his stomach and falling to the ground, Jenkins turned around and drove away the curious cat, and picked up the ancient book that fell on the ground.
This is a manuscript, and the same font is used throughout to describe fairy tales. But it is obvious that although these stories with a high probability of being adapted from real events are not boring, most of them are horrifying, the writing style is closer to documentary literature, and each story ends in a tragic ending.
"Since we can have [Foreigners], how can every recipient die miserably? This is not the ability to curse oneself."
Jenkins didn't believe any word in the story at all, flipped through it hastily, and moved his eyes to the stick figure on the cover.
This is the only painting in the book, and if there is a clue of value, it can only be here.
The lonely person in the painting faces the boundless snowy sky with his back to the outside of the book. In the distance are winding mountains, and there is nothing around it except falling snow.
After touching it with his hand, he didn't feel the interlayer in the book. Jenkins admitted that he couldn't find the clue for a while, but he felt very shameless to admit it like this.
"In short..."
So find a way to change the subject.
"In short, now we need one person's sacrifice. Among the three of us, you are the most suitable. After all, you want to die, and Mr. Sianod and I don't want to die yet."
This is an unreasonable statement, and of course the old man Ryan Sam will not approve of this kind of rhetoric. He giggled against the wall, looking at Jenkins like a madman.
"I am not reconciled, even if you sacrifice me, I will not be reconciled. I lost to you only because fate chose you instead of me. I did not lose to you, but to fate. I lost Not reconciled."
"Lyan Sam, you..."
The old elf hesitated to speak, and finally sighed deeply. He jumped off the bookshelf as nimbly as a monkey, and walked into his bedroom with his hands behind his back.
After a while, he took out a delicate and slender box made of hard paper, and Jenkins could see the red and blue aura filled with it.
"B-01-1-8381 [Elf's Arrow of Destruction] cannot touch any metal, so it is very troublesome to store. I planned to bring it into my grave, so that even if I can't return to my hometown, It’s considered dead in a foreign land, and I’ll leave it to you now.”
He stuffed the box into Jenkins' hands, then walked towards his old friend without looking back, with sadness on his face:
"Leon Sam, I only ask you once, was the little Frankie who went on an expedition with you 30 years ago also killed by you?"
"Yes, he persuaded me not to kill people, so he was the first person to be sent to eternal sleep."
"But that's your son..."
"I have lived for so many years, leaving countless descendants, but none of them can die well. Even if I don't kill him, he will die of that damn fate one day sooner or later. I have done a good thing. For this matter , I have a clear conscience."
Jenkins looked down at the box in his hand, and was unwilling to continue listening. Listening to the lunatic would only waste his time.
"Do you really think this is a good thing? Even if you broke his right arm, pierced his left chest with a sharp sword, and let him lie alone in the ancient tomb with the exit sealed, is it a good thing?"
The old elf asked again, gnashing his teeth.