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Text 32 Chapter 32
Text 32 Chapter 32
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It was late at night, a bright crescent moon hung in the night sky, countless broken stars gleamed, and the stars arched over the moon.
In the deep mountain valley, a piece of land is surrounded by rugged black rocks, which seem to be natural or specially polished artificially. They have different shapes and glow with a faint black cyan luster under the moonlight.
Most of these black rocks have densely packed holes, and when the night wind passes by, they make them make a penetrating whine one after another. Among the piles of black rocks, the light and shadow of nothing intertwined, like some invisible monster lurking in the darkness, struggling to get out, it is creepy.
The bonfire is burning.
The huge crimson flame, which was as large as a house, burned in the dark, spewing clusters of gorgeous flames into the night sky.
At the foot of the crimson flame, there is a large black and blue slate.
The hundreds of square meters of black bluestone slabs spread out on the ground, which is an irregular circle.
There are countless lines carved on the stone slabs, which are obviously all carved out by humans. The lines are exquisite and without the slightest error. Those carved lines that meander the entire black bluestone slab are like patterns, patterns, and runes, with an indescribable mystery. When you look deeply, they feel like the whole soul will be sucked in. Feeling of horror.
The lines carved on the black blue stone slab should have the same color as the stone slab, but in the light of the fire, the edges of those lines are faintly revealing a little blood red color.
That is the color of blood that has been stained with blood flowing down those lines for a long time.
The faint blood color under the fire light made this black bluestone slab more and more fascinating and terrifying.
At this moment, it was like a greedy monster from the abyss of darkness, opened its big mouth, and was never satisfied with devouring the flesh and soul it longed for.
The black-robed man stood quietly in front of the bonfire, with the fiery light reflecting on him, but strangely unable to drive away the shadow on his body.
His face has been hidden in the darkness, no one can see its appearance.
He stood by the bonfire with his hands down, motionless, like a pitch-black slate erected around the bonfire, and he couldn't feel the breath of life from him.
Until the fanatics came from a distance and delivered the sacrifice he was fancying, the black robe finally made a move.
He turned his head and looked in that direction.
The face hidden under the hood of the robe was hard to see, but the turbulent air could feel the heat of his eyes at this moment.
A soft seat woven from wicker was carried by four believers and walked slowly towards the altar.
The young child sat quietly in it.
In the dark night, the child's pale blond hair and snow-white skin were unusually conspicuous, and seemed to glow slightly under the light of the fire.
Because he had just been forcibly pressed in the lake to cleanse his body, the pale golden hair hanging on his cheeks was still a little moist, and occasionally a drop of water dripped on Garlan's cheeks from the tips of the hair.
The dust and dirt that had been stained while escaping had also been washed away, revealing white skin.
The female believers who were responsible for washing him cleaned him, and then changed him to a new suit. The clothes that had been worn out in the past few days were thrown away. He is now wearing the same dark clothes as these believers. Cyan clothes.
It's just that it's not a long robe, it's a sleeveless short robe, leaving his neck, half chest, and hands and legs exposed in the night. Gallan probably guessed what was causing these parts of him to be exposed.
Garlan, who was sitting in the chair, gritted her teeth and tried to move, but her body was so limp that she couldn't even move her fingers.
Those people forcibly poured him a cup of potion. don’t know what it was. After he finished drinking, he couldn’t use any strength. His body seemed to be completely paralyzed. They could only let them put him on the seat and lift him. come over.
His back suddenly became cold, as if a chill was coming, Garlan looked up.
His breath suffocated slightly, because he saw the black-robed man who made his heart furry slowly approaching him.
The man's gaze was fixed on him, as if he was looking at a lamb to be slaughtered.
The black-robed man nodded slightly towards this side, and then, the two mad believers standing nearby grabbed one of Garlan’s arm, and stood up on Garlan, almost holding him up. The black robe man walked.
The black-robed man stood there and stretched out a hand from the tightly wrapped black robe.
A female believer next to him came forward, knelt under his feet, holding a black wooden plate. There was a quill pen on it, and a small dish of blood red paint.
The abnormally white hand held the snow-white quill on the plate, stained with the blood-red color. The black-robed man leaned over and carefully and meticulously drew complex and mysterious blood runes on the skin of the child in front of him with that pen.
First the calves, then the arms, and finally the neck.
Normally, the runes of the sacrifice were drawn by the mad believer in advance on the sacrifice, but this time, there must be no mistakes in this important sacrifice, so he did it himself.
After the black-robed man put the red-dyed quill back on the wooden plate, almost all the exposed skin of Garlan was filled with dense blood red patterns.
The snow-white skin was lined with the blood-like bright red pattern, and it was reflected in the red fire light, giving people an extremely strange feeling.
He wanted to struggle, but couldn't move his body, so he could only be framed by two people next to him, standing in front of the bonfire.
The black-robed man stretched out his hand, and his fingers quickly changed various gestures in front of his eyes.
He didn't know what the other party wanted to do, he just frowned and looked at the moving hand before his eyes in confusion.
After a while, the hand stopped suddenly.
He heard the black-robed man laugh, and the laughter was low and deep, and it vaguely revealed a sense of satisfaction and pleasure.
"It deserves to have..."
The black-robed man retracted his hand and said, "The power of God cannot confuse you."
Gallan was startled for a moment, and then instantly understood.
He remembered the sacrifice he saw for the first time. The child stood on the altar with his eyes absent. Even if his hands and feet were cut, he didn't move. Even when his throat was finally cut, he didn't move. .
Come to think of it, that kid probably got something similar to hypnosis.
And just now, this black-robed man also wanted to hypnotize him and let him voluntarily let them bleed like other children. But for some reason, it seemed to have no effect on him, so the black robe man gave up.
The two male fanatics next to him were holding Garlan with one hand, and holding Garlan's hand with the other, so that both of his hands were stretched forward to reach their priest.
The black-robed priest took the gold dagger from the believer who was kneeling at his feet. He held the gold dagger in which the symbol of the religion of all things was cast in both hands, leaned it against his forehead, and prayed a few words in a low voice.
Then, with a wave of his hand, he cut Garlan's wrist with a gold dagger.
The blood flowed out, flowing over the blood-red pattern on Garlan's wrist, and dripping down the slender arm, dripping drop by drop on the black blue slab that Garlan was standing on.
The dripping blood instantly melted into the lines carved out on the stone slab, and slowly flowed forward along the winding lines, filled with those dry, hungry carvings little by little.
The fire was shining, and the dim carvings seemed to suddenly light up at the moment they touched the blood flowing, like a hideous monster moving and waking up little by little.
At the same time, the long, breathtaking singing of the black robe man sounded in the dark night.
He stood in front of the bonfire, raised his pale hands, and raised the blood-stained gold dagger on his right hand.
His low voice is not loud, but at this moment, it seems that an invisible force is spreading his trembling voice from the bottom of his heart on this land.
Countless believers in black robes knelt down around the bluestone slab religiously, throwing their faces on the ground during the four or fridays of the bonfire, with their faces deeply buried on the ground.
The cut cut by the black-robed man was not light or heavy, and it just kept the blood flowing out slowly.
Garlan was standing on top of the bluestone slab, with his hands still raised in the air.
He couldn't move, he could only watch his wrist bleed continuously, like a broken string, falling drop by drop in the dark night.
Immediately afterwards, his ankle hurt severely.
The man in the black robe who had finished chanting leaned over and cut his ankle this time.
Gallan couldn't see his feet, but he could feel the warm liquid pouring out of the severe pain and flowing over the heel.
The world in front of him began to shake steadily, and his excessive blood loss made him feel dizzy.
More than that, in addition to the severe pain of being cut apart in the body, there is also some indescribable fear that firmly grasped his heart.
In this repressive darkness, in the weird blood-red eyes, he must watch his blood continue to flow...He has to feel the blood in his body flowing out little by little, even with it. Together, my own vitality disappears little by little...
This time of feeling oneself slowly dying is an extremely long and terrifying process.
This extreme sense of fear can almost drive people crazy.
Did you die in the hands of such a guy this time?
He thought in a trance.
...It would be better to die in the hands of Huimos.
His vision began to blur, as if even oxygen was gradually being lost. Garlan felt his breathing begin to rush, and his chest rose and fell more and more violently.
The flames in his sight were dimming, and darkness struck, slowly eroding him, taking away the light from his eyes.
The child's once bright golden eyes had completely dimmed at this moment, and the falling eyelashes dropped a dark shadow under his eyes, like an ominous omen shrouded in the slowly dilated pupils.
Huimos...
asshole.
You speak no words.
He was scolded in his final consciousness, and Gallan was completely plunged into darkness.
boom!
The campfire flashed violently.
That was the moment when the blood flowing down the winding carvings touched the bottom of the bonfire, in front of the black-robed man who raised his hands and chanted loudly, it rushed towards the sky and burned fiercely.
A very subtle shadow that ordinary people can't feel appeared in the hot flame.
The chanting stopped abruptly, and the black-robed man was already shaking with excitement as he looked at the trace of black shadow in the flame.
For the first time in such a long time, it was the first time he felt the breath of the god he was serving with all his heart and soul.
Even if it was just such a little invisible aura, it had already made him ecstatic to the extreme.
God--
Tim Yat! The mother god who created all things!
After a long time, you will finally wake up from the abyss of death again!
Oh my God!
Did you hear--
Your humble and loyal believer will dedicate everything to you——
That ecstasy made the black-robed man tremble with excitement.
He thought, sure enough, offering this sacrifice is the most correct way.
Now, he only needs to sacrifice all the flesh and soul of this precious sacrifice to his god——
Thinking of this, the black-robed man couldn't wait to turn around and walked towards the sacrifice.
The child who was being held up bleeds a lot, has a weak breath, and hangs his head feebly. The sweat-drenched pale blonde hair seems to have lost its luster at this moment, and it is scattered messily on the bloodless cheeks.
The black-robed man stood in front of Garlan, grabbing Garlan's blond hair with one hand, and grabbing the hanging head.
The child with his hair was forced to tilt his head back, and his weakly opened lips reflected the flames of the violently burning bonfire ahead. There was no color and it was shockingly pale.
At this moment, the child's throat was exposed to the sight of the black-robed man, and the dense blood-red pattern was printed on the snow-white neck skin, making it more delicate and fragile.
The black-robed man's face hidden in the shadow of the hood showed a fanatical look at this moment.
The blood dripping gold dagger flashed with golden red luster in the firelight.
The pale hand of the black-robed man waved in the air.
The golden dagger swept a cold light in the dark night, and pierced hard towards Garlan's throat——
A little bit of coldness comes first.
Then the arrow was like lightning.
Like a white light suddenly cut through the night--
The black-robed priest let out a low growl, his right palm was pierced by the arrow, and blood gushed out.
There was only time to cut through the shallow layer of gold dagger on Garlan's neck, and it was knocked out by the arrow, whirled in the dark, and fell on the stone slab with a snap.
Everything happened so quickly, the black-robed man whose palm was pierced by a sharp arrow hadn't recovered yet, followed by another sharp arrow bursting through the air.
This small sharp arrow pierced the wrist of his other hand, and the severe pain made him subconsciously loosen the hair of the child he was holding.
Holding his two hands that were pierced by sharp arrows one after another, the black-robed man turned around abruptly.
In the next second, the pupils hidden under his hood suddenly dilated.
Under the moonlight, in the bright flame, a tall and burly figure came from the horse.
That person is like a thousand horses galloping forward on the earth.
The momentum is terrifying and unstoppable.
The dark horse galloping in the dark night is so incomparable that he gallops from a distance to the black robe man in the blink of an eye.
It raised its horse hoof high, stopped abruptly, and made a high-pitched neigh like a dragon.
The golden-brown hair of the tall man riding on the horse was flying in the dark, like an angry brown lion.
His scorching eyes were like charcoal fire, with a terrifying pressure, looking down at the black-robed priest under the horse.
The black-robed man standing under the tall horse was shaking.
No one saw it, but his hands hidden under the black robe were indeed shaking uncontrollably.
Before this man standing in front of him on horseback--
Before this king of Aaron Landis--
That is the figure that makes all the believers of the religion of all things tremble.
Like a towering mountain towering between heaven and earth, no one can shake it.
King Camos.
The hero of Aaron Landis.
He strangled the entire Sect of All Things with iron and blood a few years ago, which made all the followers of the Sect of All Things hate it, but he was also terrified from the bottom of his heart.
A few years ago, the killing of that unbeatable king who was as terrifying as a lion was deeply imprinted in the hearts of every believer.
That is a power that even the power that God has given them cannot resist.
They could not confront the king head-on.
Because the young king's breath of gold and iron horse smashed from the sea of blood on the corpse mountain is enough to crush and crush all the power of darkness.
The king who has just reached the sun is like a blazing sun.
All kinds of sorceries and ghost tricks will all be wiped out under the violent sun.
Even the dark power from the abyss of hell could not contaminate this resolute and awe-inspiring king.
——The place where King Camos goes is the place where the sun is shining, and all shadows will be invisible——
Standing under the tall black horse, the black-robed man raised his arms as he watched the young king who had terrified him riding on the horse like this.
King Camos looked down at him as if looking at an inferior ant surviving in the dark.
He didn't even bother to look at the true face of the black-robed man under his hood, and then he raised his hand and swung his sword cleanly.
The huge blade cut a cold light in the dark night.
The blood burst into the sky, and the head of the black-robed man was cut from his body with the hood he had never taken off.
The head wrapped in black cloth rolled in an arc in the air, sprinkling blood in the air along the way.
Suddenly, another horse galloped up.
A young man leaned on the horse, and the speed of the horse was urged to the extreme.
He happened to be galloping past under the head that was tumbling in the air, so the blood sprinkled from the head high in the sky splashed a little on his cheeks and stained the corners of his eyes.
Jin Hong's eyes stared at the front, as if he didn't feel the blood-splattered Heimos galloping forward.
In the next instant, the long sword in his hand split two traces in the air.
The arms of the two believers on the left and the other who had fainted because of excessive blood loss spurted out a large amount of blood, and their shoulders broke apart in their own screams.
The blond child who had lost support fell forward softly and was about to fall to the ground.
On the galloping steed, Huimos jumped and dismounted.
The steed that had lost its rider continued to gallop forward, sinking into the depths of night.
The dismounting boy knelt on the ground with his knees bent almost the moment he landed.
His hands slammed forward and took Garlan, who had fallen soft forward, into his arms——
The author has something to say: Ah, finally finished writing the story of the hero saving the United States before the business trip.
Yes, you guys are right.
I was arranged for a business trip, so I will take two days off_(:3∠)_ 富品中文
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