"It wants to call...his Lord, the Lord of Suffering from the future, even if it's just an afterimage."
The moment the words fell into his ears, Chen Yi's pupils shrank suddenly and his lips couldn't help but tremble.
"...Summon the Lord of Suffering?" Chen Yi calmed down and asked.
"Yes... the Lord of Suffering who was born from the future." Serena's voice was also extremely surprised. "Even if it is only an afterimage, it is a god, enough to make... most of the people who have witnessed him... The manifesters are devoured by their own dead souls."
Chen Yi couldn't help but raise his fingertips, and tapped the handle hastily.
"What else? Is he just doing blood sacrifice for the sake of blood sacrifice?"
"From my spying," Serena paused and said slowly: "It sought a blood sacrifice because of a prophecy, a prophecy within the church... and went to a place called Resurrection Town.
The Temple of Misery is good at shielding itself from prying eyes, divination and prophecy. Forgive me, I can't tell you more.
But... maybe don't worry, the predictions may not always be accurate. "
When Chen Yi heard these words, the first thing that came to mind was not the prophecy within the sect, but what Serena said: "A place called Resurrection Town."
I'm afraid...the foundation of her kingdom of God has been discovered by her during this request for secrets.
Thinking of this, Chen Yi suddenly felt a trace of panic, but quickly suppressed it.
"Oh, interesting." Chen Yi said with ease: "The prophecies within the sect may be the oracles delivered by the false god himself."
I wanted to follow this and say: Resurrection Town is the residence of the person I chose, and use such words to cover up the explanation, but when the words reached my throat...
"If this is the case, it may be more exposed and she will see traces of justification."
Therefore, Chen Yi cautiously closed his mouth.
"My distinguished guest, if the priest intends to do something detrimental to you or your chosen one, the secret society is happy to help." Serena said slyly and kindly.
"Don't bother." Chen Yi said concisely.
Serena heard that and said no more. Suddenly, she took the initiative to leave and said: "Then, if you don't ask me about anything anymore, I think I should leave."
"Thank you, Serena, I don't want to ask you anything. Welcome to the secret society again." Chen Yi said normally.
As Rao lifted the carriage as usual and the secret society drifted away, Chen Yi breathed a sigh of relief. Except for the first time, he had never been so nervous when facing Serena.
"Then, it's time to deal with that troll." Chen Yi prepared to set his sights on Resurrection Town, "Even if it's a prophecy."
However, Chen Yi glanced at the two bell towers and remembered that all the lights were consumed last night.
"Damn it..." Chen Yi pressed his forehead, "Just like how I killed Oude before, I have to go and solve it myself."
After making a decision, Chen Yi looked at the hotel in Resurrection Town, preparing to observe in advance.
"Its room is in the second room from the left, on the second floor. The inside... is very ordinary. Most of them are religious artifacts from the Torment Temple. There is nothing unusual about it."
"It's...standing in front of the hotel, huh? Why are there so many people?"
"Wait... Proust and Klima, why are they dueling now?!"
.....................
Priest Stan, his tall figure stood in the light cast by the torch in his hand, and his cloudy eyes scanned Proust and Klima in front of him.
"You should duel now, this is the best time." Priest Stan said solemnly, "The duel is announced on the same day, and you have to duel on the same day. This is our tradition."
"Priest...actually I didn't want to duel at all!" Proust shouted. He originally asked Klima to explain: "I just...wanted to ask Klima to give me back the dignity I lost."
Klima clutched the scimitar in his hand, hesitated, and looked at Priest Stan.
Priest Stan said indifferently: "Klima has found a notary. No matter what you think, the duel has taken effect. I request it as a priest. Now, the duel begins. Otherwise, you will be excommunicated and fall into me after death." Hell created by the Lord.”
When they heard "excommunicate", their expressions changed almost at the same time. This not only meant that they were abandoned by their Lord, but also meant that their relatives and future bloodlines would be abandoned by the Lord of Suffering. Not only would they die, You will surely go to His hell, and your destiny will no longer be protected by God.
"Let's duel, your victory or defeat will be decided by our beloved Lord of Suffering."
Priest Stan sneered and looked at the two sacrifices.
If Proust's sister hadn't died unexpectedly... I could have waited until the day after tomorrow for the notarized duel.
But now, he can no longer wait so long.
"The scriptures proverb says that if brothers and sisters kill each other, their traces will appear in the world, and they will be enlightened."
Several elders in the church who interpreted the prophecy told Priest Stan that it would catch a glimpse of the afterimage of the Lord of Suffering in a blood sacrifice and be enlightened by the benevolent Him, thereby completing his understanding of the ancient saying "eyes".
"However, Lord, do not look directly." Before leaving, an elder warned him.
Priest Stan noted it.
At the moment, thinking of the imminent completion of the blood sacrifice and the imminent realization, Priest Stan couldn't help but feel his blood surge and his arms tremble with excitement.
Proust and Klima were the sacrifices he carefully selected to confirm the prophecy.
The duel blood sacrifice in the Temple of the Passion originated from the record in "The Passion". A pair of friends who were as close as brothers set out on the road of hostility to each other because the wife of one of them had committed adultery with the other. In a duel , the thin one killed the strong one, leaving behind the murderous hand, and followed the Lord of Suffering devoutly.
"My Lord, please show your great figure at the end of the blood sacrifice." Priest Stan closed his eyes and made the gesture of the Passion.
Then, it opened its eyes, also opened its spiritual eyes, and uttered an ancient word: "Pamodimal"
His eyes twitched, looking to the left and right in completely opposite directions, looking at Proust and Klima respectively.
When Proust looked into those eyes, the urge to suffer and bleed suddenly burst out in his mind. He twisted his eyes and stared hard at Klima.
From those eyes, Klima read Proust's sister's tender love for him. There was some kind of destiny inspiration in the dark, which stirred up the arrogance he had never had before. Even though he was thin, he thought he was already there. Be blessed.
He held the scimitar in his hand, and before Proust could take the knife out of the sheath, he stepped up quickly and slashed Proust's neck.
Proust drew his scimitar. For some reason, he felt that the blade seemed to be stuck in the scabbard, which was particularly stiff. When he saw Klima rushing forward, he reluctantly pulled it out and blocked the blow.
Pulling out his scimitar, Proust roared, leaning on his strong body, he hit Klima arbitrarily.
Klima took a few steps back and drew the blade upward without giving in. He felt endless anger towards Proust for no reason.
Proust looked into Klima's angry eyes, which looked like a bull with no muscles and only dignity. He had a strange feeling that his strength seemed to be flowing away to Klima. His hand holding the knife trembled. Should he really duel with Klima?
The strong one hesitated. Proust somehow regained his sanity, a sanity he shouldn't have in a fight to the death. At this time, Klima slashed at his thigh.
At the critical moment, Proust was able to block Klima's knife in the leg.
He was awakened by the sound of the collision of blades, and watched as Klima swung his swords one after another, like a sudden rain. It was obviously him who should wield the sword in the duel and roar before the battle, not Klima. He was stronger than him. When he slashed at him, his body did not tremble with fear at all, but his heart. Trembling.
Realizing this, Proust shouted loudly, like the northern barbarians recorded in the epic. He saw Klima gradually losing strength due to continuous swings of the knife. Klima could no longer hold the knife tightly.
You have to get your dignity back. You have to fight to get your dignity back, even if it is a duel that was announced in advance!
Klima, he showed his flaws. He used too much force and his legs were not stable and he was teetering.
Proust seized the opportunity and slashed downwards.
The premonition of the dying creature stirred up Proust's remaining dignity. However, he mistakenly thought that he had suddenly found himself.
Klima fell down, just in time to avoid the fatal knife.
Quite coincidentally, he lost his grip on the knife in his hand and threw it away when he tried to block Proust's scimitar.
In the end, unfortunately, Proust's throat was pierced by a blade. The weakest part opened a hole, and blood spurted out uncontrollably.
This was a duel that was announced in advance.
A duel that should never have happened.
The strong hesitate,
The thin ones are fearless.
This is the grafting of fate.
The Lord of Suffering, who made a deal with fate and gained authority, descended from the future.
At this moment, Priest Stan stretched out his arms, devoutly waiting for the afterimage of His coming into the world.
Everyone knows,
The Lord teaches people to understand.
