"No. And whether it is or not. I would say no," Icha said. He waved one hand from the top of his head to his waist, touched the mouse, and held it in his palm. The mouse squeaked excitedly——
Xishu was so surprised that he forgot that it was him.
He listened to Yi Cha and Shenchang Lin continue to talk, but soon he couldn't hear them clearly. The waking nightmare seized upon him again - as if it must come - and the demon's scaly palms disappeared beneath his claws.
Xishu stood on the creaking lift platform, bathing in the sparse wilderness wind.
The air was blurry, and there were always patterns like ghost faces. He stared at them blankly for a while, and found that the air was stirred by ghosts walking through them. The ghosts come and go with ease, gnawing at the building's exterior and tearing the exposed dry roots of plants into strips. There are many zombies roaming the ruins in the distance, in groups, like many mold spots, which have stepped up their spread when encountering a comfortable environment.
This is what the Killing Domain looks like. Xishu thought silently. It's really scary. He found that in comparison, he didn't care so much about why the nightmare suddenly happened again - yes. He told himself that everything he did was to make the nightmare go away. There is no doubt that this is self-deception.
Xishu came down the elevator and walked on the ground.
Generally speaking, the ground of Source of Order is divided into two types:
A white, marble-like hard surface, and an even harder surface composed of Symmetra and of energetic nature.
Of course, that was before. After the arrival of Beelzebub, the Lord of Demons, the surface changed again to "a semi-hard surface like a gravel beach" and "a semi-hard surface with a layer of hellish magma and tar". Neither of the latter two changes is recommended.
But no matter what, the harshness of the ground in the Killing Domain still far exceeds the above two. The ground in the Killing Domain is not hard, and it is difficult to understand. When walking on it, it will fall down as long as you don't exert any force for a moment, as if it was specially designed for weightless creatures. Its texture is more disgusting than its appearance. But he had always thought it was the other way around.
Xishu forgot that he could fly. He often forgets. But I couldn't remember anything this time.
He stopped and walked, watching as he walked. He never knew what traveling meant. I have basically never participated in overseas assignments. Some of the rules of the Source of Order were lost, others became habits. For example: "Conversation without tone is good. Because the truth cannot be manipulated with false rhythms." As we all know, everyone in the Killing Domain (not "everyone", but he thought for a long time and didn't know how to call them, Perhaps Shanchang·Ling is an exception) can sing two lines, and the tones are ever-changing.
In short, he has never been to the Killing Realm - the place of death and silence. The place where the undead "die". "The realm of killing is the most evil place in the world. We should understand it this way." He couldn't remember which angel told him this.
So, sir, what is the difference between the chaotic hell, the realm of killing, and the evil at the end of the world? He may have asked that at the time. Or it was asked by the angel next to me - it's almost the same.
And the answer is——
Hell is evil, and it looks even more evil than it actually is. The Realm of Death is evil, and more evil than it seems. The end of the world is not just evil. If we want to discuss it strictly, the proportion of evil in it is irrelevant.
Then, the answer went on:
This is where relative data doesn't make sense.
Have you learned it?
Xishu scratched his head vigorously. If only for a moment in his life he could understand what those words meant. He still doesn't understand. Now he has to focus on his footwork.
It's really difficult. But Xishu was surprised to find that he quickly got the hang of it.
He still didn't think about flying. The air here made it impossible for him to even think about it. A single flap of the wings might catch three ghosts.
However, now he had time to pay more attention. What he thought were plant remnants on the soft ground were not plants, most of them weren't. Greasy, dirty rotten leaves, they are not...
He walked forward with his head sullenly and kicked a bunch of those things that had formed a ball at his feet (don't kick the passing grass, it will be a crime for you), and they dispersed. They are not rotten long leaves.
They are soiled and weathered feathers.
Angel feathers.
He flew up in fear. The ruins were before its eyes. The collapsed, moldy and dusty gravel has its original color. They should be white. He thought while scaring himself. Then I was really scared. They are definitely white. Even it can feel the residual energy contained in it. The shape of the ruins became more and more familiar to him. It came from the collapse of a huge building.
Spherical...no, ring-shaped. Very thick ring. Like...
The Wheel of Set.
The undead crawling over the ruins saw him. A wail burst from his throat, rushing towards him, and in an instant reached the soles of his feet. They all have growths on their backs. The growth extends outward into a dead branch-like skeleton.
The remnants of a wing...just without the feathers. Of course there are no feathers, feathers are just...
Never mind the feathers, this is not a killing zone.
Cold thoughts ran through him. He screamed - his throat hurt like a knife from the exertion, why didn't he scream? His voice was mixed with wails. It was as if they had made a perfect spot for him.
It was like he was one of them.
Xishu flew as hard as he could. There is no direction. He kept bumping into various ghosts, and the ghosts opened their mouths and shouted at him. Vaguely, countless thoughts ran through his mind. It was like a ghost passing through his body, infecting him with coldness.
The last thought that came to his mind was:
Ezhaint Sinkardstu.
he thinks. Take Chaint. Demon Duke. This is a nightmare. Every time he had a nightmare, he would dream of the Demon Duke. As if that was the point of his nightmare.
Where is he this time? He needed to find him. Because he may be the only guy here who understands the situation - even understands his own situation that he himself can't understand.
Ezhaint Sinkardstu. he thinks. He had to let him help him. Let him think. Let him come and take him back. He wasn't lying now, he really wanted to wake up.
He looked behind him. More and more ghosts are chasing after him, seeking an explanation for the series of traffic accidents just now. As he crawled forward, the sludge-like soul-resurrection corpses chased behind him on the ground. Like a blind man chasing the sun.
"I'm not the Angel of Death! I'm not!!! Come and tell me!!! Ichaint!!!" he shouted.
He just let out another wail. Then it fell to the ground.
When he was about to come into contact with the undead, his body was lifted up by something. He raised his head and found himself sitting peacefully in the Demon Duke's hand.
The air is filled with order energy.
