"I mentioned her only to tell you one thing - to me, she is just a fellow tribesman with similar blood to me."
"Whether in life or in death, I will not waver."
Sifanny shook her head slightly, stared into her "father's" eyes, and said calmly:
"You, too."
The taboo scholar's expression did not change from beginning to end.
There is no anger, nor sadness.
There was only a hint of disdain in his eyes.
She looked at her blood father as if he were a piece of meat on a laboratory table.
Being stared at by the cold gaze, the "father" who could no longer speak had tears and blood in his eyes.
Not only did it fail to impress Sfannie, but it made her look even more disgusted.
"Please stop your poor performance. I am already a little fed up with it."
"If you really care about that so-called blood relationship... why did you not appear in front of me until today?"
"You don't regret it, you just know you're going to die."
The last sob was strangled in the throat.
"Father" could no longer answer.
The roots drained his blood, devoured his flesh, and sealed his soul.
Sfanny calmly looked at her "father" who was pierced by several sharp spikes and died completely, and slowly withdrew her gaze.
"Okay, now that I have the data of the previous generation of parents, I can continue my research."
Only when she thought of her research did her eyes flicker with emotion.
“I will definitely succeed in finding the most correct path.”
…
[You, my father.]
On that sad height.
Now curse me and bless me with your hot tears.]
"Huh..."
When everything came to an end, Herbert did not continue writing, but put down the charcoal pencil and looked at the sea in the distance.
The blood moon hung high in the sky, and its slightly dark reflection was reflected on the sea.
The night was blood red, but it seemed especially peaceful here.
He turned his head and looked at the misty mountains behind him. The lightless mountains looked like crawling giant beasts, staring at him quietly.
Suddenly, a strong cold wind blew from the Misty Mountains, blowing down his hood and revealing his pure white hair.
Herbert shook his head, letting his hair flutter in the night wind. The blood moon dyed his white hair a layer of eerie blood red.
"hehe… "
He smiled and shook his head, lowered his head, and wrote the last stanza of the poem slowly and firmly.
I implore you not to go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.]
Pop.
With the final push, the tip of the charcoal pencil broke, leaving a hideous slash on the manual.
It is like a sharp scratch, embedded in the story.
So far…
The total time was twenty-five minutes and thirty-seven seconds.
There were twenty-five heretic intruders in total.
Including five legends, and twenty mid- and high-level professionals.
They have all been executed.
Chapter 113 MVP victory settlement screen.JPG(1/3)
Under the blood moon.
A white-haired boy with a melancholy look in his eyes stood alone on the top of a tower, gazing at the bright starry sky.
The evening breeze blew past, ruffling his hair and blowing the pages of the manual...
Even if one does not know the shocking developments in the prison, this scene alone is enough to make people stop and stare.
but…
The God of Harmony was not very understanding of the situation, and suddenly said: [“It seems like you are enjoying this process.”]
[“First you set the trap, then you write poetry like a poet when they fall into the trap… Do you feel elegant now?”]
"Shh—shut up."
Herbert shook his head slightly, keeping his carefully crafted pose unchanged, and replied in his heart with a tone full of sadness:
"Listen, the wind tonight is particularly noisy, as if it is sad for the departure of those pitiful souls."
Nenasha:
What a mess
What is going on
["you… "]
Nenasha was stunned by the strange tone of Herbert's answer. She hesitated for a long time before continuing to ask: "I say, standing here in the middle of the night and feeling the sea breeze, aren't you cold?"
"well."
Herbert shook his head helplessly and complained: "Can't you just leave me alone? You are such a clingy guy..."
It's as if He wants to stick to me all the time and live in my mind - oh, He already is.
Forget it, with the God of Comedy here, it’s all nonsense.
Literature and art
Oh, I can't be artistic at all...
["Oh!"]
The God of Comedy sneered disdainfully, having long seen through Herbert's little thoughts, and complained: ["You obviously can't stand on your own, but you have to blame me for disturbing you."]
Do you think I don’t know that half of your leg is numb from standing there
Still pretending!
"By the way, to be more precise, I'm blowing the land breeze now."
Herbert corrected him considerately, and finally couldn't maintain his "MVP victory settlement" posture. He moved his legs, stretched hard in the moonlight, and said lazily:
"But it's not cold at all. After all, I am now a powerful high-level warrior!"
After both his physical body and holy power reached a high level, Herbert's strength was completely stabilized at a high level and would not fail due to his physical body being too weak.
The power division in this world is not complicated and is relatively easy to understand.
It can be roughly divided into six stages: beginner, intermediate, advanced, legendary, epic, and saint.
Herbert was not interested in these things when he was in the royal city, so he had no corresponding concepts except the most basic knowledge.
But after discussing with others during this period, combined with his early experiences, Herbert summarized the general information.
Let’s take ordinary humans as an example.
In theory, an adult human who has undergone simple training is definitely not weak, and in most cases can deal with small or medium-sized wild beasts by "trading injuries".
As long as the Terror Erectus gives up its insistence on being "injured", it will be able to burst out with considerable power.
But even so, this strength cannot be compared with that of real professionals.
Even a professional who has just been promoted to the [Beginner Level] can easily beat several adults with his improved attributes.
Representatives of entry-level professionals include well-trained militiamen, fledgling adventurers, knight squires...
Their opponents are on the outskirts of the wilderness, and they need to team up to fight some weak monsters.
After their strength entered the [Intermediate Level], the strength of the professionals was significantly improved again.
They are familiar with fighting, and can rely on their increasingly mature combat skills to advance into the wilderness, or work together to conquer caves and abandoned dungeons that contain treasures and monsters.
Due to reasons such as talent and resources, intermediate strength is the stage that most professionals are at, and it is the largest in number among all levels.
At this time, their opponents also changed from small scum like goblins, gnolls, and slimes to dangerous monsters like orc warriors and werewolf hunters.
When their strength reaches the [Advanced Level], they will have the experience and ability to walk alone in the wilderness and easily deal with various crises.
These slightly more famous professionals will choose different paths.
They may continue to hone themselves in the wilderness in the hope that they can make another breakthrough and one day enter the realm of legend.
Or they may leave the wilderness and enter the city-state, choosing to serve as the personal bodyguard of the nobles, relying on their own strength to support themselves - including some kingdom guard leaders are such people.
When one truly reaches the [Legend] level, one's strength will experience a qualitative leap, and one will officially enter the realm of a strong being.
It is not difficult for legendary warriors to defeat an army alone or fight against a hundred enemies alone. There are many ways to do it.
No matter where they are, legendary strongmen are always the top leaders of the organization and are dangerous people who need special treatment.
As for the [Epic] powerhouses above them, it can be said that they have entered another level - they have begun to set foot in the realm of gods.
Epic warriors can accomplish feats such as attacking a city alone, destroying a country single-handedly, and can also perform miracles that affect nature. They will be treated as strategic weapons by everyone.
By the way, epic warriors have another honorific title in the Church of Gods that carries a bit of awe and special meaning—demigod.
For most mortals, a demigod is equivalent to the incarnation of a god on earth.
As for the Saints who are above...
Strong people of this level of strength almost do not exist in the mortal world. They are powerful and their whereabouts are mysterious.
He is the kind of mythical character that only exists in legends and can save the protagonists from danger in times of crisis.
As for why I said "almost"... it's because Herbert had seen it with his own eyes not long ago.
It is not as divine and unattainable as described in mythology.
It was simply that Old Deng had spent a lot of time and effort to lay the groundwork in a roundabout way, just to silently show off in front of him in the end.
In addition, according to Nenasha, the upper limit of a saint is extremely high, and the gap between individuals is huge.
The "gap between two saints" may even be greater than the "gap between mortals and saints"!
A weaker saint might not be much stronger than a demigod, but a normal saint has the qualifications to disobey the gods.
As for how strong the strongest saint was, Herbert had no way of knowing. The difference in strength was too exaggerated, to the point that he could not understand even after hearing the description.
However, Herbert finally asked repeatedly and got a subtle description from his close ally - God.
There is no such modifier as "comparable", "like", or "as good as".
It’s God!
So the question is, what level does the archbishop belong to among the saints
While Herbert was trying to estimate Old Deng's strength, Nenasha laughed mockingly: ["Hey! According to what you said, you are now considered a strong one?"]
"Why not?"
Herbert was very calm and didn't think there was anything wrong with what he said.
[“Really? After seeing the deaths of those legends, do you still think that a lowly high-ranking Paladin like you is a strong one?”]
Herbert's answer to this remained firm.
"certainly."