The figure was very tall, even taller than Judge Vanna. The figure was very thin, as if it was just a piece of dry flesh wrapped under the long black trench coat. He was holding a large gun in the closed room. The umbrella's lowered cover obscured the face of the uninvited guest - but with just one glance, the old priest could see the blasphemous and twisted shadow on the other person's body.
"The remnants of the Black Sun?" The old man looked at the figure in astonishment, and then roared, "How dare you step into this sacred library!"
The next second, a loud bang broke the tranquility in the archives. The old priest had already pulled out the large-caliber revolver from his waist. The blessed bullet was accompanied by fire and roar. However, perhaps the old man's limbs were too slow. The figure had already moved before the gunshot - two phantoms suddenly appeared from the hem of his clothes. The first phantom directly blocked the bullet in the air, and the other phantom instantly crossed ten meters. The distance slapped the old priest on the shoulder.
There was a harsh sound of metal friction, and the old priest's body flew out sideways and hit a nearby bookshelf. The huge bookshelf shook suddenly, and countless books and files fell down.
The strange black shadow holding an umbrella stepped forward and walked towards the direction where the old priest landed. A low and chaotic murmur came from his body. The sound sounded like dirty flesh and blood churning in a boiling pot.
However, the next second, a roar suddenly came from the collapsed pile of classics, and then the old priest's figure jumped out from it - he didn't know when there was a sharp steel sword in his hand. This steel sword Letting out a sharp cry that cut through the sky, he swiftly struck at the figure that invaded the archives.
The intruder suddenly stopped, and the black umbrella tilted slightly to block the sharp blow. A series of sparks burst out between the steel sword and the umbrella ribs. Then the old priest turned over and landed on the ground, and the long sword turned in a circle without any pause. Arc, and slashed towards the side of the intruder from another direction!
The long sword whirled, gold and iron mingled, and the old man's mechanical limbs let out a low and hoarse roar. The storm swordsmanship that had been honed for decades showed its power again after many years of silence. The continuous gyrations and arc slashes seemed to be continuous. Like waves, it splashed towards the blasphemous enemy, and between the arcs drawn by the long sword, layers of illusory waves could be vaguely formed - these illusory waves became more and more real, and became more and more real. The heavier it gets, the more it gradually develops the impact and power of a real wave!
The power of the Storm Goddess is filled with continuous arc slashes, and the heavy pressure of the waves is poured into the specially forged steel sword. Every slash of the sword is carried by the salty sea breeze, causing the surrounding air and ground to tremble slightly.
The black umbrella in the intruder's hand was extremely hard and did not waver after more than a dozen slashes. However, the figure itself was constantly retreating, retreating little by little to the edge of the nearby bookshelf under the impact of successive waves, looking slightly agitated. Low growls and murmurs came from his body, full of bewitching power.
But the old priest had already blocked all unnecessary perceptions and completely ignored the noise made by the intruder - he knew that his attack must not stop. What the Storm Swordsmanship requires is this continuous pressure, like a wave that cannot stop midway. , and these "residues" that were split from the Sun's Children all have power that cannot be underestimated. Once the suppression on their side is interrupted, the other party will break away from the fight in the next second.
At the same time, the old priest was also filled with doubts - how did this blasphemous scum penetrate into the archives? This church, filled with the power of the goddess, has countless protection mechanisms, and dozens of layers of open and hidden sentries from the inside to the outside. Even if the Son of the Sun himself comes, he will be blocked. How could he not detect the invasion of a "remnant"?
Could it be that...this remnant didn't enter the church through the normal space-time structure?
At this moment, a sharp sound of breaking through the air suddenly sounded, and the old priest's muscles tightened instantly. The experienced warrior reacted immediately. The long sword in his hand did not stop, but slightly adjusted its angle, preparing to meet him. A sneak attack on the intruder.
Severe pain shot from his ribs.
The continuous sword light stopped. The old priest looked at the tentacle that penetrated his body in astonishment, watching the blood gradually falling from the edge of the ragged clothes. The brass prosthetic limb was exuding scalding heat and was severely worn and rusted. The gears made a final noise and creaked to a stop.
Another second passed before the old priest realized what had happened—he was old.
He and the gears in him are old.
Along with the disgusting sound, the ugly tentacles shrank back into the intruder's clothes little by little. This inhuman thing slowly approached the old man who was supporting his body with a long sword and barely managed to avoid falling. The umbrella revealed a "head" that was constantly expanding, contracting and deforming, like a blooming flower of flesh and blood, and a hoarse voice came from its "stas".
That was barely legible lingua franca:
"Go tell your gods that this ugly era is over and the sun will rise from history..."
"History..." The old priest's body was trembling. He had not yet fallen down, but he could no longer lift the sword. Suddenly, he realized, "You have polluted history?!"
The intruder seemed to smile, even though it was just a blooming flower of flesh and blood, there still seemed to be a hint of smile in its trembling "petals" and misaligned teeth: "On the day when the fire ignited, everyone's wish All were satisfied.”
The old priest slowly lowered his head, and the vitality quickly faded from this aging body. He seemed to have finally given up his struggle in the world, and began to wait calmly for the final moment to come.
The intruder seemed quite bored with this result. He opened his umbrella again and prepared to leave.
However, in the next second, the roar of metal friction suddenly sounded, and the noise of gear rotation and oil pump pressurization came again from the mechanical prosthetic limb that had completely stopped. The intruder turned around in shock, only to see a sword light striking quickly. Come.
"Please witness!"
The old priest let out a roar, and the steel sword slashed at the intruder's body without any hesitation. This time, there was no obstruction from the black umbrella, and no interference from the wrist. The sword blade that devoted all its strength was almost like tearing apart a rag. Directly cutting across the enemy's body.
The intruder was stunned and was cloned with a sword, and the two body parts fell to the ground.
However, the next second, the two chopped-off bodies suddenly made a disgusting sound of flesh and blood squirming. Countless tiny flesh sprouts spread out from their insides and began to move closer to each other and reunite.
The intruder reshaped itself bit by bit, and an angry growl came from its body.
The old priest had already lowered the tip of his sword, and his body slowly fell to the ground. His cloudy eyes watched the intruder stand up again little by little, with a relieved smile on his face.
He knew that his last strength would not be able to kill this monster. Even if it was the remnant, it was the remnant of the Sun's heir. It was far from what a dying and aging guardian could contend with with a steel sword, but at least, he was Before dying, he proved his loyalty to the goddess.
The storm has been witnessed and it is time to end.
The intruder stood up again. In anger, tentacles full of polluted power spread out from his body, and the edges of the tentacles were covered with sharp teeth.
In the sight of the old priest, he saw a fire burning behind the intruder, a fire burning in the archives, and the entire church burning in the fire.
The icon of the goddess collapsed in the distance.
A Purande that was completely burned by the flames was emerging in his field of vision, and a branch of history in which "the sun fragments successfully descended, and all of Purande's defenders were annihilated" appeared in his eyes.
The old man's consciousness gradually sank in this polluted branch of history, but suddenly, he saw something else out of the corner of his eye.
A cluster of green fire was spreading vaguely in the raging fire. Along the gap between light and shadow, along the phantom of the rising flames, the green flames split and flowed everywhere.
Behind a collapsed bookshelf nearby, a cluster of green flames seemed to suddenly "smell" something, and suddenly rushed over, like a hound that found its prey, pounced on the intruder who was about to deliver the final blow.
The old priest looked at all this in confusion. His consciousness was already floating between reality and illusion. He could hardly tell whether what he saw was reality or an illusion. He saw that the intruder was suddenly wrapped in green flames, containing the sun. However, the body of the descendant melted quickly like wax, and he heard the other party's dying screams echoing throughout the archives, filled with unbelievable madness and panic.
Then everything went quiet.
The sea of fire receded, and the polluted history temporarily returned to the depths of the curtain. The archives, located between the two branches of history, fell into deathly silence, with no one visiting or coming.
There was only an old man who died in battle with a sword lying quietly on the ground, looking into the distance with half-open eyes. One eye reflected the safe and surviving Plande, and the other eye reflected the historical branch of the sun's destruction. .
And he no longer belonged to any of them—he neither died nor survived the fire.
The cold blood flowed out from under the old priest's body, as if controlled by a strong will. The blood flowed quietly on the ground, condensing into a series of footprints, slowly extending towards the administrator's control not far away. tower……
(End of chapter)
