Douluo: Senior Sister is too popular, what should I do?

Chapter 79

She dreamed of the sea.

The boundless, silent deep sea, the sea water is as thick and heavy as black grease, isolating light and sound, she is like a sea bird that has lost its strength, wrapped in sea water and falling, because the deep sea is invisible bottom, so the process of falling seems to never end.

Fragments of light are scattered in the sea water, and every gleam of light is so weak that it seems to be extinguished at any time, but hundreds of millions of light spots gather together like a swarm of lights, illuminating the dark seabed and the seabed. There are towering and continuous bronze palaces growing.

The word "growth" should not be associated with architecture, but anyone who sees it at first glance will think that it grows from the seabed. Thick blood vessels grow from the base and penetrate deep into the seabed. , like a dense root system, countless arms and feet with strange patterns swaying on the fleshy root system, sometimes embracing and converging in the sea water, sometimes unwinding and scattering, like dancing a god-respecting witch dance, or like an ugly flower opening and closing. Meat flower.

Although most of the palace complex has collapsed into ruins and slipped into the cracks of the sea abyss, the well-preserved part still has a structure and style that is completely different from all known buildings on the Douluo Continent. The huge bronze pillars seem to penetrate the sky and the earth, and there are complicated decorative patterns in relief, between text and graphics, like intertwined snakes. The chain was driven by the eddy current to shake and undulate, and the sound of the collision was as grand and distant as the pipe organ playing in the church.

Even the most slanted fanatic could not conceive such a building, and human power would never be able to achieve this miraculous feat. Holy and evil, noisy and lonely, life and death, all kinds of diametrically opposed elements are in it. Conflict yet unity, opposition yet harmony, just like the chaos in ancient legends before the separation of heaven and earth.

At the end of the ruins, the royal court of the abyss.

There are clusters of suckers all over the arms and feet, which are illusory human faces exuding a faint blue light like phosphorous fire. Their mouths open and close, making sharp laughter, indescribable weeping and vague ravings, as if responding A choir singing hymns to the gods to the organ, but each verse is incomprehensible.

Only she knew that they were calling her name, and no matter where she fled, she would be drawn back here by this voice.

There are towering statues standing on both sides of the lengthy Shinto, some are feathered snakes with wings on their backs and wearing golden masks, some are skeletons with smiles on their faces, some are graceful figures with fluttering clothes, and on their necks are ferocious dragon heads. There are so many that cannot be described by creatures within the scope of human cognition, as if they are manifested from the oldest and deepest fears of human beings, and one glance will make people fall into a nightmare.

They seem to be living beings in the first place, but they are forever frozen in a moment of life by pouring molten metal, so they can have such a lifelike posture. The head—or the organs on the head—hangs down, which should be inorganic. Under the reflection of the cold fluorescence, the qualitative eyes seem to have a cold look, silently and dignifiedly overlooking the pilgrims on the Shinto.

With long hair floating in the sea, Sang Xia swam between these arms, copper pillars and statues, and entered the silent sanctuary deep in the royal court through the long Shinto path.

The dome of the sanctuary is a deep black sky. Countless stars twinkle in the sky, either dim or bright. The staggered trajectories converge into a vast and magnificent river of stars, which sprinkles countless broken lights and scorches the cross in the center of the sanctuary. The frame is bright.

The silver chains were coiled around the cross, penetrating the girl's wrists, heart and knees, and twisted and buckled from the beginning to the end to form a back and forth figure 8, locking her together with the heavy torture rack.

The silver cord is engraved with complex and indistinguishable lines like the spells used to exorcise evil spirits in ancient times. The clear brilliance similar to the starry sky above the dome flows and changes on it like running water, and also bubbling in the girl's blood vessels. The reflection of her skin is almost transparent, and the flesh, organs and bones are clearly visible under it, and the heart pierced by the silver cord is still trembling and beating slightly, like a dying bird.

Her face is the same as Sang Xia's, except that her hair color is as bright and dazzling as the morning sun, light gold, which spreads out, and the long and slender eye feathers that hang down cover her eyes, her sleeping face is peaceful, as if she is sleeping in a good night in a dream.

But Sangxia knew that she—or it would be more appropriate to use the personal pronoun "he"—was waking up, and she clearly saw that a part of the building complex that was in ruins when she came last time had been restored this time, and a new addition was added to the chains. Several cracks.

This is not surprising, she thinks of the people who were trampled by horseshoes at the Crescent Moon Festival and the scarred wolf-eared girl, He draws nourishment from their anger, fear, mourning and pain, the more corrupt the world is, the stronger He will be.

And this also means that, as a container, she will be gradually eroded, polluted, and replaced by Him who is gradually waking up.

She doesn't really care much about this matter. She doesn't like this deformed and ugly world, and she has no ambition to save it. Since it awakens the evil god, she should be a sacrifice for his return to the throne.

The galaxy above the head is still full of brilliance, as if it is eternal, but it is changing rapidly. It is the embodiment of the concept of "fate". Every star is a person's soul, and the trajectory of the stars is their life. Intertwined The star track construction of the world has endless possibilities, but after the deity in charge of fate passed away, no one can interpret the signs of the star sea.

The abyss will eventually drown everything, it is an unsolvable dead end, an irreversible fate, and an inescapable number of days.

The end is coming.

This is the last prophecy she makes.

"Now that I've seen the ending—"

she whispered.

Since he knows that he can't kill him by exhausting all means, and knows that this world is not worth saving, no matter how hard he tries, he will only slow down the speed of his awakening, so that this dying world can linger for a while.

"Why do you still do this?"

No one answered her, like so many times before.The miraculous traveler has completely fallen, his soul is burned out, his godhead is shattered, and he uses his own roots as a coffin to seal him here.

But at this moment, a light-quality tentacles made of brilliant starlight slowly stretched out from the silver cord, and gently hooked her little finger.

Sang Xia was stunned, let go of her fingers, touched her hair top again, and touched her hair comfortingly, without any real feeling, but warm enough to make people want to cry.

She woke up from the dream, as if the person who was falling from a very high place was still in the process of falling. The dizziness of weightlessness made her spirit feel unreal. After a long time, she gradually gathered up her chaotic thoughts. Blowing in from the open window, a swirling petal of falling flowers fluttered and fell on her cheek.

She reached out to take it off, but touched the icy cold liquid on her cheek. She froze for a moment, realizing that it was her tears.

"What is this..." She covered her face, tears flowed more and more, the coldness and stubbornness that was holding on were washed away, revealing the weak and scarred inside, she bit her lip, but even Even so, he couldn't suppress the slight choking in his throat, "Why, how could—"

She couldn't go on, sobbing uncontrollably.

　The Abyss Royal Court is inspired by Azathoth’s Chaos Royal Court. I don’t know if you can’t lose San, anyway, what I wrote is quite San.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)