"Where are the chosen ones."
The Deathstroke's voice sounded like a boiling pot of hot oil.
"They are here."
In the distance, escorted by several tall warriors, dozens of frightened children were tied up with ropes and sent to the giant holding a bronze bell.
Bivier was one of them. He was originally just an ordinary child. His father was a doctor. But just this morning, the world he was familiar with was torn apart.
These terrible giants visited his home with a deadly plague and destroyed everything in him, including his parents.
Now, he must also face the choice of fate.
"Kneel down."
A majestic voice came out, and all the children knelt on the gravel on the ground at the same time.
The bell giant walked up to a child, looked at him for a while, and then touched the child's face with his hand.
"ah----!"
The next moment, the child screamed miserably, and chickenpox and scars quickly began to develop on his face, and then all over his body.
He scratched himself in pain and even pulled bits of skin off, a scene that made some kids pee out of fear - literally.
He hadn't even taken his last breath when he fell to the ground rotting a third of the way, and the giant was already in front of another child.
"Too fragile."
The cruel verdict was followed by an even more cruel death.
"The blood is not pure and there is a tendency for slight mutation."
"cowardice."
"despicable."
"Pampered."
………………
Finally, when we arrived at Biville, ten children had already "died" before. Although they were not dead yet, their appearance was no different from that of death - perhaps death is more merciful.
When the bronze bell giant came in front of her, Bivier realized that it was so huge. Its body was much larger than she had imagined, and it was emitting an astonishing halo that made him want to breathe heavily.
He wanted to divert his attention, but the other person's yellow eyes stared at him.
"I...I'm not afraid of you!"
After he plucked up the courage to say this, the other person just gave him a sarcastic look, as if to say, don't do this to me.
The next second, the bronze bell giant suddenly grabbed his chin and lifted it, fixing it in the rusty gauntlet, making him stare at it for a while.
Bivier had no choice but to return the other's gaze, and then he found himself in a terrible world.
In that world, the dead appeared again, their facial features had been distorted, their eyes were so empty, and their limbs were twisting stiffly, as if they were trying to crawl forward to survive - no, they were all dead.
The rotten skin was just loose on the head, and the contents of the eye sockets had long since been lost, and disgusting white pus continued to flow out.
They moved forward and swayed, and with every step they took, the flesh and blood split open, revealing the scene underneath - the rotten and black rotten flesh continued to slide from the body along with the stench, and new growth grew from the gaps. The tissue covered the bones stained with green oil, and then continued to rot and fall off with the next activity.
In this cycle of corruption, everything is so hopeless and so scary.
In the distance, the huge demons laughed happily. Every time they inhaled, their bellies would burst. Every time they exhaled, they would bring out a foul-smelling cloud filled with flies as big as a human head.
Bivier was in this rotting garden. He just wanted to escape desperately, but the fallen corpse kept getting up, looking for the living people around him, trying to catch him, tear him, and devour him until he turned into a corpse. A body as broken as they were.
The boy climbed up a hill. His boots were stained with dirt on the ground, and his clothes were torn and stained with pus and oil.
Then, he saw——
The devil in the middle, no, it seems to be a god. He is respected by the devils around him and responds with fatherly love.
It shakes a twisted spire, like stirring a pot of thick soup, and the whole earth rises and falls, meaning and law are destroyed, existence is nothing but the kindness it bestows, if he wants, everything will be corrupted!
Bivier heard the call of his parents and expressed their love to him.
As a result, the last trace of reason disappeared.
How long has passed? An hour, a day, a hundred years, nothing seems to have happened.
Everything in the garden laughed, twisted, profaned, they laughed, looked, played, served, while Beville looked on and praised.
"Very good, a qualified candidate."
The bronze bell giant released Bivier's chin, and now there was a mark of blasphemy on the boy's forehead.
"With the blessing of the immortal father, you will be implanted with the sacred seed in the future and become our brothers."
Reciting a loud oath, the bronze bell roared three times.
"Ferryman Engalta, urgent orders."
Suddenly, a soldier strode over, surrounded by a swarm of flies, buzzing.
The Deathstroke Herald opened the wet parchment and immediately made a surprised sound.
"Armageddon?"
At this time, a soldier behind him seemed to have guessed something and whispered:
"An order from the Primarch."
Ngarta coughed lightly and waved to the soldiers escorting the boys.
"The harvest will continue, Sergeant Mitta takes over my duties."
Then he summoned the soldier who conveyed the order to him, and the two walked to a secluded corner.
"You must have some information, right?"
"I've heard some things, brother, but... they're just rumors."
"Tell me."
Deathstroke burped and spit out a bunch of wriggling maggots.
"Rumors...the Sacred Garden is suddenly very angry, and the Primarch has received instructions to find something."
As early as a week ago, the news spread through the Legion like a plague. Somehow, it crossed the huge gap in empty space, was heard and relayed, and also aroused some suspicion.
After all, it had been a long time since the Primarch had commanded the Legion.
"But Armageddon, you know, it's so eye-catching..."
The helmet of the warrior who conveyed the order had a crack, revealing a barb-like set of fine teeth, like a bloodthirsty eel.
"Of course, we all know what happened there, but what the Primarch ordered us to find was not to capture that world. Maybe... we can try to make a deal with those guys."
"Those guys-"
Ngarta nodded thoughtfully.
"That's one way. Let's do it this way. Let Nuruddin contact them and say that all prices are negotiable, but we must get the information we need!"
The messenger nodded and turned away, followed by the buzzing flies.
The Deathstroke Messenger stood in the shadows, his eyes shining brightly, as if he was thinking about something——
"The last daughter of Isa...if I give her to my loving father with my own hands, then I will surely be able to embark on the path of glory!"
7017k
