Chapter 227 The Stag Gate
Bang, it was the crisp sound of a stiff neck bone breaking.

Watson seemed to feel his body again, but the soul body's mimic nerve seemed to have only cleared a one-way channel - he could only feel the fatal pain of neck breaking and tearing, and still could not control his head freely.

But the only control he had left over his right eye was wailing under the stimulation of severe pain and returned to the embrace of his thoughts - he could now freely control the contraction and movement of the pupil.

Under the attack of the severe tearing pain on the broken surface of his neck, even Watson, who had always been indifferent to emotions and anger, could not control his pupils as they dilated and seemed to fill his eyes.

The ancient monster felt the crisp sound of broken bones transmitted from his palm, and then realized that something seemed wrong.

It looked down and saw that familiar eye full of surprise and doubt, and countless doubtful question marks seemed to emerge from the depths of the dark pupils.

It looked down again, and then realized that in its excitement, it had used too much force, and directly lifted the opponent's head and separated it from the neck. The solidified and petrified blood fell like mud, and the bare white neck bones shook. Shaking like a dead white snake.

"Hahaha, did I try too hard?"

The ancient monster raised John Watson's head to a position parallel to his own head. With his eyes facing each other, it could clearly see the reflection in the dark mirror-like eyes that were filled with shock and pain. His wanton laughter.

"Don't worry, it's just a trivial matter of beheading, it doesn't matter."

"Just let me teach you how to use the moth's power of abandonment!"

"You first hold your breath and concentrate—"

As the ancient monster spoke, he looked back at the headless body left in the cracks of the forest - it seemed that John Watson's lungs were still there, unable to complete the operation of holding his breath and concentrating.

It could only shake its head helplessly, "Forget it, just pretend I didn't say anything."

"Just quietly watch my performance!"

The ancient monster paused the vibration of its scales, and its rapid flight temporarily slowed down.

It used its first free left arm to tear off a piece of its own scalp.

Then the two left palms closed the scalp in the palm of the hand, and vigorously rubbed the tough and dense scales on the skin surface that can withstand violent arrogance, steaming heat, furious sharpness, severe cold and frost, drums and pulsations, unbearable intoxication, and tearing gaps. .

Just because this layer of scales is extremely tough, it can directly ignore the temptation and hunger of other principles.

But the source of this tyrannical resistance is because the scales contain the power of the past - this power was given by the boss Moth himself.The madness and desire mixed in it are endless terrors that the fragile mind of the frail head in the hand cannot bear.

The ancient monster held the fine scales peeled off from its scalp in its hands, raised its neck and swallowed it in a big mouth. The crunchy texture echoed in the mouth with the sound of chewing.

Let it recall a certain snack from a certain period of history for no reason... It seems to be called Bicock potato chips, right?Or is it some kind of finger-sucking thing?

Since swallowing the long-lost pale fat moth, the ancient monster seems to have become sentimental in a rare way, and those boring emotions that should have been abandoned long ago came to his mind again.

It suddenly began to miss the past that had not yet fully transformed and awakened.

At that time, it was still young and naive, and had not yet seen the deepest horror hidden under the surface of the world.

He is still addicted to the game of battle of wits and courage with mortals and never tires of it... He even indulged in the flower of forbidden love that grew from the soil of deceit for a while.

"Thinking about it, you are really lucky..." The ancient monster said in a tone of envy and hatred, while not relaxing his actions.

It will rub off the scales and shave off the wrinkled, blue-black scalp that has given up its longing crazily, and then wipe it directly towards the broken neck of the head in its hand.

Before the remaining flesh and blood on the inside of the scalp is completely close to the broken surface of the neck, it has already actively extended soft-like tentacles, and the tops of the tentacles have split into even finer tentacles.

Due to the low-altitude swooping of the ancient monster, these tiny tentacles seemed to be dancing with joy, like a young child stretching out his chubby little hand towards a kindergarten friend he hadn't seen for many days. The palm of this cute little hand even cracked. The thin mouth showed a cheerful smile.

With a slurp, he kissed the torn flesh and blood with his small mouth, and immediately started sucking hard, like a newborn holding a pacifier, reluctant to let go, adsorbing it firmly, so that the thick and bare scalp could be tightly and seamlessly sucked. It fits together with the flesh and blood of the severed neck, as if it were made from nature.

Watson even felt some kind of warm feeling coming from under his neck, and his originally slightly dazed mind suddenly extended into some kind of illusion - a strong sense of phantom limbs, or more specifically, it should be a phantom. body feeling.

He seemed to be able to sense his body that was abandoned deep in the forest. He could sense the repeated warmth and coldness of both hot and cold, the strange itching sensation like thousands of ants climbing up, and the sharp needles and blunt pliers. The corrosive stinging sensation that consumes flesh and blood... It's as if his body has been submerged in a sea of ​​alien insects and is about to be eaten away.

However...I am still alive even though my head has been separated from my body, and there is even a deep unclosed crack on my skull...I am still alive despite such a serious injury!My mind is particularly clear, and my thinking seems to be unfettered.

In comparison, having the body eaten clean...seems like an insignificant thing...right?

Watson looked at the ancient trees passing rapidly within his field of vision. Although he only had one eyeball left, his dynamic vision seemed to be completely concentrated because there was no second eyeball to share it.

He counted silently for a second in his mind, and 110 seven ancient trees had already passed by in his field of vision. Calculated based on the average distance between each tree of three meters - which means that the ancient monster's flying speed has exceeded the speed of sound at this moment? !

But Watson did not observe the appearance of the sonic boom cloud, and even the breeze blowing on his face was exceptionally gentle, gentler than a lover's touch.

His eyelids were never closed, but his eyes did not feel dry at all from being kept open for too long.

He just watched helplessly as the ancient monster led him through the dark forest, around the rugged boulders, and came to the diamond-blue light curtain.

Then the door of the ivory-colored bones was suddenly opened, and the souls of the dead who were blocking the way were torn into broken light spots. The pale bone door panels shattered like dots of ice chips, but the bone-piercing coldness followed them like a shadow. Come up and stick to the corner of his mouth.

Some kind of silent force began to corrode Watson's mouth. He felt as if his lips were covered with ice and became abnormally numb. They also seemed to shrink due to the cold, until they shrank like a tiny gap.

In the end, it disappeared quietly, as if the mouth was just a deformed scar remaining on the face. Now, with the help of the Pure White Gate, it has finally healed completely, restoring its original smoothness.

The speed of the ancient monsters has not stopped yet. They continue to pass through the foggy countryside full of light. When the fog with the power to soothe the soul is dispersed by this deformed strange shadow that is faster than the cannonballs in the waking world, those monsters The fruits that exuded warmth and harmonious light like the setting sun were all extinguished and dimmed.

The shadow of chaos spread following the ancient monster, and soon completely enveloped a certain tent above the gray border. A person wearing Awakening World sunglasses opened the tent door in surprise and faced the monster on the horizon. Shadow looked away.

The next thing that caught Watson's eyes was the familiar yet unfamiliar majestic ancient golden door. At the door lay the huge, scarred deer head.

The Gate of the Stag, also known as the Gate of the Apprentice, can be promoted to the Master after passing through this gate, and first understand the first true secret of Mansu.

And this crucial door is standing in front of Watson's head.

 As mentioned above, an Immortal can only be qualified as a Seventh Master, and the number of places is quite limited.It stands to reason that if you step through the Stag Gate to become a Master, you will most likely get the answer to the puzzle in advance.

  Otherwise, the answers to the original leader’s riddles all come from documents written tens or even hundreds of years ago...Griebi, who dares to sign, has not updated the question bank for hundreds of years?

  
 
(End of this chapter)

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