savior epic

Chapter 85 The Lord Taught People to Understand

"It wants to call... his Lord, the Lord of Suffering born from the future, even if it's just an afterimage."

The moment the words fell into her cochlea, Chen Yi's pupils suddenly shrank, and her lips trembled involuntarily.

".Called the Lord of Suffering?" Chen Yi collected her mind and asked.

"Yes. The Lord of Suffering born from the future." Serena's voice was extremely astonishing, "Even if it's just an afterimage, it's a god, enough to make... the vast majority of those who witnessed him, Be devoured by your own dead soul."

Chen Yi couldn't help raising her fingertips, and tapped on the handle hastily.

"What else? He just sacrificed blood for blood sacrifice?"

"As far as my spying is concerned," Serena paused, and said slowly: "It was seeking blood sacrifice because of a prophecy, a prophecy in the church...going to a place called Resurrection Town.

The Temple of Suffering is good at shielding snooping, 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 she thought of was not the prophecy in the church, but what Serena said "a place called Resurrection Town."

I'm afraid. The foundation of her kingdom of God has already been discovered by her in this pursuit of secrets.

Thinking of this, Chen Yi suddenly felt a little flustered, and then suppressed it very quickly.

"Oh, interesting." Chen Yi said with ease: "The prophecy in the church may be the oracle handed down by the false god."

I wanted to follow this and say: Resurrection Town is the residence of my chosen one. I used 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 her mouth.

"My honored guest, if the priest intends to do something that is not good for you or your chosen one, the secret society is willing to help." Serena said cunningly and kindly.

"Don't bother." Chen Yi said concisely.

After Serena heard it, she didn't say any more, and she took the initiative to leave: "Then, if you don't ask me any more, I think it's time for me to leave."

"Thank you, Serena. I didn't want to ask you anything. Welcome to the secret society again." Chen Yiping said.

As Rao raised the carriage as usual, the secret society gradually drifted away, Chen Yi heaved a sigh of relief, except for the first time, she had never been so nervous when facing Serena.

"Then, it's time to deal with that troll." Chen Yi was about to set her sights on Resurrection Town, "Even if it's a prophecy."

However, Chen Yi glanced at the two clock towers and remembered that all the lights were consumed last night.

"Damn it." Chen Yi pressed her forehead, "I have to go and solve it myself, just like I killed Ode before."

After making a decision, Chen Yi looked at the hotel in Resurrection Town, ready to observe in advance.

"Its room is the second from the left, on the second floor. It's very ordinary inside. Most of them are religious artifacts from the Temple of Suffering. There's nothing unusual about it."

"It stands in front of the hotel itself, huh? Why are there so many people?"

"Wait. Proust and Klima, why are they going to duel now?!"

Priest Stein, his tall figure stood under the light cast by the torch in his hand, his cloudy eyes scanned Proust and Crema in front of him.

"You should duel now, this is the best time." Priest Stan said solemnly, "Duel is announced on the day, and duel must be duel on the day, this is our tradition."

"Priest. Actually, I don't want to fight at all!" Proust yelled, he was looking for Klima to explain: "I just want to ask Klima to return the dignity I lost."

Klima held 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 already taken effect. I request it as a priest. Now, the duel begins. Otherwise, you will be excommunicated and fall into my law after death." Hell created by the Lord."

Hearing "excommunication", the faces of the two changed almost at the same time. This not only meant that they were abandoned by their lord, but also that their relatives and their future bloodlines would all be abandoned by the lord of suffering. After that, he will go to his hell, and thereafter, there will be no gods to protect his fate.

"Duel, your outcome will be decided by our beloved Lord of Suffering."

Priest Stan sneered, looking at the two sacrifices.

If Proust's sister hadn't died suddenly, he would have waited until the day after tomorrow for a notarized duel.

But now, I can't wait so long.

"The proverbs in the scriptures say that brothers and sisters can kill each other, and if their traces come to the world, they will be enlightened."

Several elders in the church who interpreted the prophecy told Priest Stan that it would see the afterimage of the Lord of Suffering during a blood sacrifice, be enlightened by the merciful Him, and thus complete its comprehension of the ancient saying "eyes".

"Yet, Lord, don't look directly."

Before leaving, an elder warned him so.

Priest Stan made a note.

Right now, thinking of the imminent completion of the blood sacrifice and the imminent comprehension, Priest Stan's blood surged and his arms trembled excitedly.

And Proust and Crema are sacrifices he carefully selected to confirm the prophecy.

The dueling blood sacrifice in the Temple of Suffering originated from the records in "The Passion". A pair of friends who are as close as brothers, because one of the wives of one of them committed adultery with the other, embarked on the road of mutual enmity. In a duel , The thin ones killed the strong ones, leaving behind the murderous hands, devoutly following the Lord of Suffering.

"My lord, please show your great figure at the end of the blood sacrifice." Priest Stan closed his eyes and gestured for a crucifixion.

Then, it opened its eyes, opened its eyes of spiritual vision, and uttered an ancient word: "Pamodimar"

The eyeballs fluttered, one left and one right, in diametrically opposite directions, looking at Proust and Klima respectively.

When Proust met those eyes, suddenly, the impulse to suffer and bleed broke out in his mind. He twisted his eyes and stared fiercely at Klima.

From those eyes, Klima read Sister Proust's tender love for him, and was secretly inspired by some kind of fate, which aroused his arrogance that he had never had before. Even though his body was thin, he thought it was already Be blessed.

Holding the scimitar in his hand, he was the first to let out a high-pitched roar.

Before Proust could pull the knife out of its sheath, Klima stepped up quickly and slashed at Proust's neck.

Proust drew the scimitar, for some reason, he felt that the blade seemed to be stuck in the scabbard, especially stagnant, and when Klima rushed to him, he pulled it out reluctantly, blocking that blow.

Pulling out the scimitar, Proust let out a loud roar, leaning on his strong body, and violently slammed into Klima.

Klima took a few steps back, and unyieldingly swiped the blade upwards. He felt endless anger at Proust for no reason.

Proust met Klima's furious eyes, which looked like a bull with no muscles but only dignity. He had a strange feeling that his own strength seemed to be draining to Klima, His hand holding the knife trembled, should he really fight Klima?

The strong ones are hesitating instead.Proust somehow regained his sanity, the kind of sanity that shouldn't exist in a deathmatch.At this time, Klima chopped off his thigh.

At the moment of crisis, Proust barely blocked Klima's leg-cutting knife.

He was awakened by the sound of blades colliding, and he watched Klima swung knife after knife, like a shower.Obviously it should be me, who should swing the knife in the duel, and should roar before the battle, not Klima. I am stronger than him. When he slashed, his body did not tremble from fear at all, but his heart trembling.

Realizing this, Proust yelled loudly, like a northern barbarian recorded in an epic. When he saw Klima, he was gradually exhausted due to continuous swinging of the knife, and Klima could hardly hold the knife tightly.

I have to get back my dignity, and my own duel is to get back my dignity, even if it is a duel that was announced beforehand!

Klima, he showed his flaws, because he was too hard, his legs were not stable, and he was on the verge of falling.

Proust seized the moment and slashed downward.

The premonition of the dying creature stirred up the remaining dignity of Proust, however, he just wrongly thought that he had suddenly found himself.

Klima fell, just enough to escape the fatal blow.

Coincidentally, he didn't hold the knife firmly in his hand, and when he wanted to block Proust's scimitar, he threw it out.

In the end, unfortunately, Proust's throat was pierced by the blade, and the weakest part broke a hole, and blood spewed out uncontrollably.

This is a duel announced in advance.

A duel that shouldn't have happened.

The strong hesitate,
Thin but fearless.

This is the graft of fate.

The Lord of Suffering, who traded with fate and shared power, is about to cast an afterimage from the future.

At this moment, Priest Stan stretched his arms wide, waiting devoutly for the afterimage of His coming into the world.

Everyone knows,

The Lord teaches people to understand.

(End of this chapter)