Abdul bolted the lock on the fireplace, the flames spread and new firewood was added, the choking smoke was driven out of the chimney by buoyancy, and the lady fell asleep early, and he could hear her steady breathing.
He propped up his fat body with his legs and moved to the edge of the bed. A Deschanel-style black wool mattress was spread at the foot of the bed. He leaned his back on the bed and closed his tired eyes.
Abdul could not help but recall the wonderful performances of the minstrels.
At that time, Ode pushed the black dog to the ground, and its bones suddenly softened. Its face was sluggish, and most of the scarlet dog tongue in its young teeth was spitting out half of it. He was amazed by this extremely human expression.
Oded picked up a pair of scissors and held it against the black dog's neck.
Abdul listened to the children's exclamations and watched him snap and crisply cut the black dog's neck.
Ode then picked up the dog's body. The head and body were clearly separated, but there was not a drop of blood from the incision.
There was no blood on the scissors either.
Abdul remembered that his daughter was so frightened that he cried and trembled. His wife and son stared at the black dog intently, her face was pale, and her skin was uneven and had goosebumps.
Oude smiled at them, with a funny clown face on a white background and a red nose. He put the dog's body back at the joint of his head, took out the thread from the yarn ball, and sewed it on stitch by stitch.
I heard him shout a few more words, but Abdul didn't hear them clearly. It was probably in another language.
When the sound hit the ground, the little black dog stood up, jumped up and down, and curled up the corners of his mouth.
Incredible.
It was the first time Abdul had seen such a trick.
Some kind of witchcraft is even suspected.
Ode performed twice, saying he performed once for his daughter and once for his son.
Putting away his memories, Abdul slowly lay down on the mattress.
There is warmth everywhere in the room where firewood is burning.
"It's so amazing. Let's find it again tomorrow." Abdul muttered with emotion.
Da da.
Abdul tied his ears and then put them down. The sound was very soft. It was the sound of a child stepping on the floor. If you listen carefully, it should be his son.
Da da.
"What is Garibal doing?" More than two minutes later, Abdul still heard his son's footsteps, and he thought angrily and doubtfully.
Abdul straightened up and put his feet on the ground, trying to put on his slippers. In the dark room, he swept his feet around for a long time but still found nothing.
He frowned, leaned down, and groped with his hands on the wool pad.
Another clicking sound hit my ears.
His daughter also walked out of the room? Abdul couldn't figure out what the two children were up to tonight. He glanced at his sleeping wife beside him. He had no intention of waking her up. By the light of the fireplace, he looked for his woolen loafers. They might have been kicked under the bed. .
Ga.
There was a sound of a door being pushed open somewhere.
Abdul's heart pumped violently, and he turned to look at the bedroom door, which was still closed tightly.
He breathed a sigh of relief and reached under the bed impatiently.
The moment I turned my head,
Under the dim light of the fireplace, the blurry outlines of two children holding hands appeared on the wooden door.
Abdul felt the fluffy ball.
Those should be your own shoes.
He was about to pull it out, but from under the dark bed, a cold little hand suddenly touched his wrist!
Abdul's heart stopped for an instant, then started beating wildly. He panicked and held on tightly with his cold palms.
His pupils shrank sharply, and he didn't care about his slippers. He struggled desperately, slapped the hand, and pulled it out with all his strength.
Open your palms,
He saw a clump of dog hair stuck between his fingers.
Abdul trembled all over, screamed and shrank back to the bed, pressing his palms on the mattress with a look of horror on his face.
He wanted to turn around and shake himself up, leaned back with his palms, and then...
Pressed on a cold little hand.
Abdul turned back tremblingly.
His daughter was wearing a short long pullover, her eyes were whitened, and her small head was slightly raised aimlessly. Under the dim light of the fireplace, a hideous wound on her neck was sewn up with silk threads.
Abdul screamed in horror, his expression collapsed, and he turned his head, hoping that this would be a nightmare.
Then he saw his son, a six-year-old boy, crawling out from under the bed like a dog. His body was covered with dog hair.
The silk thread on the neck is abrupt and weird.
"How about I show you this trick first?"
The face, painted pale with lead, hung upside down outside the window.
Oded gave a stiff smile.
The black dog held a pair of scissors and put it on his son's neck.
............
Magic Academy.
Kasim sat in the magic tower. After patrolling the tower vigilantly, he skillfully pulled out the cowhide book.
"I follow your guidance, my King of Kings." He muttered softly and sat down at the desk again.
Qasim stared at the slightly open mouth on the carefully embossed cowhide cover.
Silence is one of the symbols observed by the Torment Temple. According to theologians within the church, this originates from the fertility worship of the southern clan system and the pursuit of spiritual eyes by wizards. It is also combined with orcs, Primitive beliefs such as goblins and dwarves.
The Temple of the Passion, which was developed from the True Religion of Saint Mardel, is such a twisted carrier of heresy. It uses asceticism as the most fundamental doctrinal principle and widely absorbs different beliefs from various regions.
Qasim opened the cowhide book again and found the string of spells.
Still as before, he rearranged the spell with the grammar of platinum script, untied the cloth, exposed the leprous-stricken skin, and opened the spiritual eye.
"The lonely shadow, the great one who suffered for the sake of humanity, his holy disciple..."
After reciting a series of incantations, baby-like bone hands stretched out from the center of the spiral.
Qasim picked up the piece of paper.
Picking up the paint, he unfolded the letter paper inside.
"Faithful Qasim, my dear colleague.
The clown in the temple has carried the manuscript to Resurrection Town. We have asked him to contact you and hope that you will cooperate with all his actions.
After all, that manuscript is related to Resurrection Town, so we leave it to you. We hope you can decipher useful information from it. According to the speculations of scholars at the temple, it may contain information about the birth of our god, the great Lord of Suffering.
If this is true, then all the sufferings we have endured have meaning, and we will be the first messengers of His care. "
In the scrawled handwriting, Qasim could see the excitement that could not be concealed in it. In his last reply, he suggested that the Temple of the Cross give the manuscript to him for deciphering.
He continued to read.
"In addition to handing over the manuscript, the clown also has an important task. You know, that disgusting false god of the Yawen people and their evil heretical sect, tortured and humiliated our priests in the Temple of the Cross in every possible way. So, We send divine chastisement through the divine power of our great Lord.
Their sacred objects are out of control!
I ask you to cooperate with the clowns, stop them, and do everything possible to prevent their ritual of repairing the sacred objects!
In addition, he also has a secret mission, which I am not in a position to disclose to you for the time being. "
Qasim's pupils shrank when he saw the end.
The relic is out of control.
He knew exactly what this meant.
As for that secret mission, Qasim was even more alert.
Qasim suppressed the panic in his heart, grabbed the reed pen, and wrote a reply quickly.
