Chapter 21 "Su Sheng"

"Second update, 5k!"

The lightning split down with a thunderous momentum and dragged out a bright shadow. In an instant, it was like the gun of Longjirus falling on the bronze statue of the mother of the desert, which was tortured by the bloody wind and became old and dirty, and suddenly blooming violent white light invaded their eyes, accompanied by a crack of heaven and earth. The sound shook their ears.

They couldn't help kneeling down with their heads in their arms and humming. The head was swollen and dizzy, the eyes were tingling, tears were surging, and the ears were buzzing, as if there was a whole nest of bees trying to get in.

It took a while for Leo to gradually recover. He slowly opened his eyes and saw that the bronze statue in the square was torn apart in his tears. The woman's head fell to the ground, and a terrible wound cut like an axe cut off her skull; her arms were scattered everywhere. Only half of the cracked body is still standing still, swaying in the roaring wind.

Thunder and lightning and the wind were laughing loudly, and the dark golden pupils in the sky flashed with some pleasure. The black clouds are twisted, and the ugly and terrible face is smiling grimly. The other party still seemed to feel that it was not enough, so the thunder and lightning fell one after another. In an instant, the square was overwhelmed by the beating current. Whether that woman is a gorgeous and beautiful girl or a late witch with abscess, she no longer exists. In the place where she stood, there was only a huge dark pit left.

The desert warrior couldn't hide his fear. His face was pale. He looked at the huge face looming in the sky and asked tremblingly, "Who is he?" He already has the answer, but he can't believe it.

"Kraig." Leo's throat seemed to be on fire, and it was so difficult to say a syllable. He looked into the eyes of the sky and said, "There is no doubt that he is Clegg. Destroy the demon god, the demon god of creation and destruction, the black sun, Clegg.

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Monroe Selt looked at the bottomless pits around him in horror, and it was difficult to hide the shock in his heart. He hoped that this was a terrible dream, and when the sun rose, he would wake up and everything would recover as before. But when the cracked bronze head, body and limbs, and the woman's breasts hit the ground, when the fragments hit him, causing continuous pain, and when the thunder around him exploded and the demon priests laughed, he knew that it was just his wishful thinking. Everything happened as he heard and saw. And he is the culprit of all this.

He couldn't help hating his weakness. Why did he shrink back because of that woman's intimidation and involuntarily commit this unforgivable sin? As long as he is still alive, Monroe Celtic knows that this guilt can never be eliminated.

The lightning sizzled and spread around him, but he was unharmed. He was about to cry sadly. Why, why am I the only one who is fine?" He shouted crazily in his heart, "Why am I still rational? Why am I still a human?"

No one gave him an answer, and there was only ridicule above his head.

Monroe Celtic did not dare to look up. His dark golden eyes had his irresistible majesty and the madness that he subconsciously felt dangerous. He doesn't know who it belongs to, but he knows that it's better to stay away from each other. He hides his head like an ostrich. He turned a deaf ear to how angry the other party scolded him.

Gradually, the rain became smaller until it stopped and the thunder weakened and slowly dissipated. Although a sea of fire in the city illuminates the still dark sky, everything seems to be over. Monroe Celtic guessed and slowly raised his head, suddenly finding that he was no longer imprisoned. He got up from the smelly black water and stood up straight. He forced himself not to look up, but his eyes saw a picture that also made him palpitate--

- those one-eyed priests who look like demons, dark red skin and upside down with golden pupils.

Each pair of eyes is staring at him, with only the purest evil in his eyes, beating like their master's unpredictable madness. Some magic affected him, and Monroe Celtic felt that they seemed to be able to see through the weakness in their hearts, the madness in their hearts, and the unwillingness and resentment buried in their hearts. In a trance, these thirteen eyes seemed to change two, two to four... Finally, countless, turned into a pair of desperate eyes of hatred. They stared at him and told their resentment. And no matter how he ran, he couldn't escape their gaze. His weakness has been completely grasped by the other party.

The demon priests grinned like root nodules and grew together with their upper jaws, revealing a dark red hole. They were laughing, and Monroe Celtic realized that he was powerless to argue and dared not resist. He once again chose to fall and was willing to sink. I am a coward. He thought bitterly.

In the roar of the "priests" in unison, the only winner crawled under the high platform looked up at the sky and roared loudly. Monroe Celtic heard some fanatical joy in his shouting. He clearly knows what kind of emotion it is. It is like cheering, like applause at parties, just like the relatives and friends he killed. He belongs to fanatical believers, irrational lackeys and puppets. Each of us has been deceived. Monroe Celtic thought sadly that I hurt you.

Their cry echoed, and Monroe Celtic felt the eye above his head staring happily.

What are they going to do? He was at a loss. He wanted to leave, but his feet seemed to take root in place. In some mysterious drive, his body bent uncontrollably, stretched out his right hand, and accurately grasped the glittering spear that rolled aside. The short spear was coated with a layer of dark gold light, but under this deep light, there was still some kind of silver light that had not faded.

No, no, I don't want it, throw it away. Monroe Celtic realized what was about to happen. He struggled and shouted in horror, but there was a hiss like a snake in his throat, and he ordered his body without responding at all. I don't want to do this. I'm not a rick, I'm not a murderer!

His gods had already abandoned him. He was the first to abandon them, so there was not even a trace of response.

Monroe Selt watched the winner walk up to the platform under the order and urging of the demon priest.

He is a handsome and strong man with braided black hair and eager eyes full of the simplest faith. However, at this time, he was injured all over, and his shoulders and arms were missing a large piece of muscle, bleeding, as if the blood man had drilled out of the blood pool, and there was still meat residue in his grinning mouth.

He blamed himself for devouring Monroe Celt. He looked away with difficulty and looked at the short spear that could not be thrown away in his hand. Do you really want to do that? He remembered the head in the ground. Courage has disappeared.

The demon priests sang hypocritical eulogies. The winner, no, was just a survivor, a survivor of bad luck, a pitied weak person who only lived a moment longer than others - no, we are all complete losers - slowly knelt down in front of him and looked up at him with ridiculous and pathetic expectations. .

The sharp end of the short spear aimed at the winner's eyebrows and stabbed down in a harsh and ferocious laughter.

The blood splashed, bringing out a pale**.

However, at this short moment, when the other party was about to die, Monroe Selt felt the moment when the other party's soul dissipated, he felt that the other party's reason returned to his body. His eyes were briefly blank, and then he was replaced by fear, just like countless people who died in his hands, desperate Eyes, gradually distracted eyes, gray and round eyes.

Monroe Celtic slowly knelt on the ground and cried silently.

The winner became the dead at this time. He fell in front of Monroe Selt, and his confused eyes told his confusion. He was puzzled and he didn't understand why his goddess finally killed them all. When the black fire appeared again, Monroe Selt knew that this was a sacrifice. He once thought that the object of sacrifice was the mother of the desert, the perfect goddess in the lie, but the truth was cruel and unacceptable. They sacrificed a demon.

The wind suddenly rose, and the thunder and lightning flashed.

The eye blinked in the air, and Monroe Celtic thought he was cheering because the prayer in his pastors was cheering. However, neither the dark golden eyes nor the churning black clouds refused to leave.

Why don't you stop? Let's finish it. Let's finish it quickly. Monroe Selt prayed hard. They, these demons, that mysterious woman has won each other's favor. What else do they have to do? What are they still waiting for? Waiting for the other party's gift? Or something else? For example, the last sacrifice?

I'm still alive. If it's me, then come quickly...

However, they did not move for a long time. In repeated over and over again, Monroe Celtic suddenly understood the prayers that the priests kept repeating.

"Death is also the beginning. Destruction is creation. They said.

The magic wind began to blow again, and a mixture of crazy restlessness, full of sulfur and fishy smell blew all over the city in the confusion of Monroe Celt. The array** from the square seemed to have something terrible hiding underground. However, there is nothing underground. What is moving is the stacked corpse.

In his fear, everyone in the square lay in a pool of blood, and every dead person stood up again. They swayed, just like the previous priests. The skin and muscles on their faces all peeled off, and their eyes bounced out of their eyes. Under the playful fuck of the eyes above their heads, they became terrible and ugly demons one by one.

In Monroe Celtic's ear, the tone of the prayers of the demon priests was like ridicule, so harsh that he didn't know why he was still alive and witnessed it with his own eyes, but he clenched his spear.