pertwk Chapter 313 The Lord said, He knows, He sees, and He hears...
Chapter 313 The Lord said, He knows, He sees, and He hears...
Chapter 313 The Lord said, He knows, He sees, and He hears...
boom!
A violent sound, like the explosion of a large-yield gunpowder, rang out, and the entire underground hall shook slightly under the enormous impact.
Outside the hall, Klein steadied himself, staggering slightly, and glanced back.
He saw that the layer of light that had formed the overflowing power on the altar where Mr. A had summoned the "True Creator" had disappeared, and a thin crack had appeared in the center of the altar made of gray-white boulders.
The river, formed by countless transparent and illusory spirits and a mixture of repressed emotions and resentment, lost its restraint and became chaotic.
Some of them were still surging towards the altar, some were trying to escape, and others rushed towards Mr. A and the "mysterious queen" in the hall.
Countless resentful thoughts and the tearing of spirits caused Mr. A to freeze briefly, his flesh and blood bursting open like scarlet flowers blooming.
On the other side, the "Mysterious Queen" reached out and conjured a dark, ancient horn that carried an extremely heavy and powerful aura.
The horn of destruction!
She brought the horn to her lips and blew it loudly.
woo~~
In that instant, Klein felt as if he had gone deaf, his spiritual intuition screaming warnings.
Without the slightest hesitation, he turned and fled the area as quickly as possible.
Behind him, a heavy, low rumbling sound echoed continuously. With layers of sound waves overlapping, illusory shattering sounds rang out all around, and spiderweb-like cracks of varying depths extended from the void.
Within the range of the sound waves, everything physical, and even space itself, was collapsing.
On the altar covered with countless cracks, the illusory figure hanging upside down on the cross, seemingly formed by a thin layer of shadow, appeared to be about to fall.
In the split second before the altar was completely destroyed, a brief, wondrous balance emerged from the ever-collapsing chaos.
A terrifyingly powerful will descended, and the illusory figures above the altar instantly disintegrated, transforming into a phantom veil of shadow that seemed to shroud all things.
Behind the shadowy curtain, a blood-red eye briefly appeared before disappearing as the altar crumbled.
The altar, built of massive stones, was completely obliterated amidst a dense web of cracks, leaving only a few swirling dust particles.
Bernadette frowned slightly, looking at the original location of the altar. Her eyes suddenly turned deep and dark, like the sea before a storm.
A moment later, her eyes cleared again, but her brows remained furrowed.
"With the interference of an external force, what did the will of the true creator do in that brief moment?"
""
As she whispered, her figure suddenly became transparent, ethereal, and turned into a pile of bubbles.
After Bernadette left, dark red flesh and blood continued to gather in the dust, gradually coalescing into an incomplete human shape.
Mr. A knelt on the ground with a numb expression, surrounded by cracks, as if the entire hall would disappear at any moment.
In the instant everything was destroyed, the will of the "True Creator" descended and protected him.
Ten seconds later, Mr. A, whose flesh and blood seemed to have regained some strength, said in a calm but extremely suppressed and manic tone, "Great Lord, I will find the Red Angel who will return for you."
After he finished speaking, he swayed as he stood up, and a phantom book appeared in front of him.
"I came, I saw, I recorded."
In Queens, where the streets were deserted due to the previous smog and the sudden hurricane, a horse-drawn carriage drove slowly by, seemingly out of place.
Inside the carriage, a middle-aged gentleman dressed in a long black tuxedo and a top hat was holding a picture frame in his hands.
His body trembled incessantly, his mouth sometimes tightly closed, sometimes wide open in an exaggerated arc, a line of warm blood sliding down from his bloodshot eyes, and black veins constantly appearing on his pale cheeks, as if his body had reached its limit and was about to collapse.
After a long while, the gradual collapse of his body finally stopped, but his shoulders were still shaking from time to time, and he made a hoarse, suppressed and excited voice: "Haha, so what if you two pieces of trash joined forces to suppress me? My lord has already noticed me, has already cast his gaze, and left his aura."
"It won't be long before the Aurora Society comes looking for me, and then you two pieces of trash can finally die."
Amidst the ripping sound of flesh tearing, two bloody wounds appeared on the middle-aged gentleman's cheeks, from which phantom teeth and tongues grew, resembling two new mouths.
"Soren, help me suppress him. We must leave Backlund before the Aurora Order arrives."
"it is good."
In the outskirts of Queens, not far from the concrete streets, in a desolate field, the weeds swayed abnormally a few times.
Then Triss's figure, holding up her black skirt, appeared out of thin air.
After initially shaking off Finkel, the steward of Prince Edsack who was pursuing her, she chose to flee back to Backlund.
Only a large metropolis with a large population, various hidden forces, and many extraordinary individuals can help her better evade the witch cult and even the subsequent pursuit of the Rune royal family.
Feeling temporarily safe, she gradually slowed her pace, lowered her head, and whispered in ancient Hermes: "From the unknowable sublime, the gate above dimensions, the embodiment of art and fantasy."
"From the unknown..."
After reciting it several times, her vision suddenly blurred, and she saw an endless black expanse studded with stars, resembling a dim starry sky.
Above the dim "starry sky," a figure whose grandeur defies description lowered its gaze upon her.
"Great being, I pray to you..."
Seeing that her prayers had finally been answered, Triss quickly spoke up.
But before she could finish speaking, the strange phenomenon vanished without a trace, as if everything that had just happened was merely her illusion.
A flicker of resentment flashed in her eyes as she buried her head and murmured, "Why..."
"Because you are the one who has been abandoned, just like the poor prince I serve."
"But when every mistake happens, someone has to pay the price and atone for the innocent, right?"
'
The sudden sound interrupted Triss's carefully crafted emotions. She looked up and saw the old butler, Finkel, walking slowly toward her.
Seeing the old housekeeper who had lost his former demeanor and image, she subconsciously stepped back.
Prince Edsack's old butler was above her in rank, and she had tried to escape more than once, only to be caught and brought back by this old butler each time.
The next second, her vision blurred, and it seemed as if starlight was twinkling.
She then noticed a somewhat familiar young man standing between herself and the old butler, Finkel.
"Who are you?"
The old butler Finkel paused in his step forward, his face darkening as he looked at Sirion. He sensed a dangerous aura emanating from this suddenly appearing young man.
Cyril glanced at the other man indifferently, without answering his question. Instead, he tilted his head slightly and said to Triss behind him in a calm and gentle tone, "The Lord says He knows, He sees, and He hears."
Triss paused for a moment, and the image she had seen while praying flashed through her mind—the gaze looking down from infinite height.
She thought the other side had already given up on her, but it seemed that wouldn't be the case.
...That sublime and great being has never left; He has always been there, watching over me and listening to my every prayer.
He didn't respond because He had already foreseen that I could escape the Red Rose Manor and the life the Witch Cult had arranged for me through my own efforts, and that He was waiting for me near the end.
Cyril was unaware of Triss's complex and difficult feelings at that moment; he was merely stating his position and, incidentally, putting on a show for himself.
After saying that, he turned to look at Finkel, the old butler who had come to hunt down Triss, his eyes sparkling, and said in a broken and incoherent voice, "The witch who used the smog of Backlund to unleash the plague" has been dealt with.
"Now it's your turn."
As he spoke, figures appeared one after another, surrounding the old butler Finkel.
The siege effect is created by using high-frequency flashes.
Looking at the identical figures around him, Finkel's expression darkened.
Each of these clones gave him a real feeling, yet each one seemed fake.
He paused, then clenched his right fist and declared in ancient Hermes: "Dual creation is forbidden here!"
As soon as he finished speaking, nothing changed in his surroundings. Instead, several pale blue fireballs came hurtling towards him from different directions.
Finkel's expression clearly froze for a moment, then he quickly clenched his fists and crossed them over his chest, his voice authoritative: "Seal it off!"
Layer upon layer of transparent walls appeared around him, blocking the pale blue fireballs that shot towards him.
The pale blue flames dissipated, and Finkel spoke again in ancient Hermes with authority: "Teleportation is prohibited here!"
As the other party finished speaking, Sirion instantly felt an invisible resistance. It was as if an invisible barrier had been added between him and the spirit world, making it temporarily impossible for him to use the spirit world to "teleport".
Immediately afterwards, the figures he created using high-frequency "flash" disappeared one after another, leaving only the figure in front of Finkel holding a strange crystal ball containing an eye in front of his chest.
Upon seeing this, Finkel immediately leaned forward, clenched his fist, and swung his arm.
"die!"
Cyril looked at the other person calmly, without backing down or dodging.
The next second, a transparent ice crystal spear struck Finkel's outstretched fist.
The ice spear shattered with a crash, and white frost bloomed like flowers. His body instantly stiffened, and although he could still move, he was quite sluggish.
At the same time, the crystal ball that Cyril held to his chest emitted a clear light, and a continuous mountain range shaped like a palm appeared.
"Five Finger Mountain"!
One of the spells that Oheiz created while he was alive, using the ancient story given to him by Cyril, was preserved in a crystal ball formed from his extraordinary properties after his death.
On the other side, Finkel's expression changed. Just as he opened his mouth to utter the specified rule in the ancient Hermes language, an invisible, immense pressure suddenly descended.
Most of his legs were stuck in the ground, his body was bent at a ninety-degree angle, his cheeks were flushed red, and there was a series of cracking sounds from his body, as if his bones were dislocating.
Cyril released the crystal ball from his hand, then grabbed the illusory core that was intertwined with red and black floating beside him.
As he infused it with spirituality, the illusory core suddenly shimmered with a brilliant glow of interwoven red and black.
Clusters of blue flames gathered in his other hand, gradually condensing into a flaming spear, which he then released.
boom!
The flaming spear pierced through the old butler Finkel's body in an instant, bursting forth with a brilliant flame that was both blue and crimson.
In the quiet glow of the burning fire, a figure draped in a classical robe and wearing a hood quietly appeared to the side.
Upon seeing the other person, Cyril placed her hand on her chest and gave a respectful bow: "We meet again, madam."
The other person did not respond, and looked past him to Triss behind him.
The moment their eyes met and Triss saw those dark eyes, her body froze, cold sweat poured down her forehead, her legs trembled, and she was completely unable to move.
Her spiritual intuition was frantically warning her, but her body couldn't do anything to respond, as if she had returned to infancy, so weak that she had no ability to resist.
How terrifying... Even the high-ranking witches I've met before didn't give me a similar feeling. It was as if I were staring directly into the deepest despair and facing the most terrible calamity itself.
The messenger of this great being seems to know her. Can he save me again?
In the blink of an eye, that terrifying feeling vanished.
Pop, pop, pop!
She felt a lightness in her hand and instinctively looked down, only to see the sapphire ring she had been wearing shattered into pieces on the ground, the broken gemstones having lost all their luster.
When she looked up again, the woman in the classical robe had vanished without a trace.
"she..."
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what to say for a moment.
"0-17 was sent by the Church of the Night to handle this incident."
As he spoke, Sirion once again pulled a test tube containing a crimson potion from his pocket, uncorked it, and gulped down the liquid inside.
Behind him, Triss's pupils suddenly contracted.
...0-17, that's not a person, a living extraordinary being? But a dangerous level 0 sealed artifact!
If that great being hadn't sent its messenger, would I have been eliminated by it just like that sapphire ring?
Amidst her fluctuating thoughts, a mixture of relief, lingering fear, and relaxation flashed in her eyes as she looked at Sirien and earnestly asked, "What should I do next?"
Cyril glanced back at her, in a rather pleasant mood because he had just snatched a kill before the goddess descended. He explained, "Do what you want to do. Didn't you ever think about what life would be like after you escaped when you tried to run away time and time again?"
"Of course, it's best to stay away from the witch cult and the Luen royal family."
"I need to get to other places soon, could you please collect this loot for me for now?"
Triss glanced at Finkel's charred corpse and nodded instinctively, "Okay."