Mystery: Two or three things between me and Tianzun God

Chapter 453 You are a bit too extreme

Bansi Port.

As the sun sets, it emits its last rays of light, coating the calm sea surface with a layer of brilliant golden color.

Ron felt the sea breeze, frowned, looked at the island and nodded, and saw some clues.

According to Medici, if you want to communicate with the City of Disaster here, you not only have to choose the right time, but also have to hold a specific sacrificial ceremony.

The purpose of the ritual seems to be to please.

The bigger the occasion, the better the communication effect.

After all, Medici was once the unique King of Angels. The City of Disaster could pay attention to him, but might not be interested in outsiders.

"In the past few months, based on my observations, I seem to have some degree of attraction to Beyonders like Dark Night, Hunter, and Witch. Perhaps I don't need to put in much effort, and the City of Disaster will come to me on its own."

The gray fog border seal of the Western Continent will inevitably be guarded by "Fusheng Xuanhuang Tianzun". The only loophole is the source essence that has eroded into this side to varying degrees.

Ron did not plan to enter successfully in one go. At the very least, he had to send out a clone or a trace of his will to test the waters and see what was happening with his source essence.

As for exploration channels, the more the better, so as to avoid being kicked off the line at a critical moment.

The sky gradually darkened, the fog spread thickly, and soon it was night.

The strong wind brought dark clouds and covered the entire Bansi Port.

The sound of the wind suddenly arose, causing the White Agate to sway slightly.

"Stay on the boat tonight. Bansi Harbor is full of hidden dangers."

Adjusting the jazz hat on his head, Ron warned the listless elf beside him.

"I'm not kidding with my life."

After hearing that there was a special delicacy invented by the Elf King in Bansi Port, the elf lady who wanted to try it touched her wallet and said helplessly.

She didn't dare spend the gold coins Ron gave her. If it was a contract to sell one's body, or the price was to sell her body, she would not be able to accept it.

but……

The eyes that seemed to contain lightning swept over Ron's face that was so handsome that it didn't look like a human again. Winchester Kyle's breathing became a little faster and his face turned a little red.

Hiss... It's not impossible...

When you are well fed and warm, you will think about sex. No matter what kind of creature it is, it should not eat too much.

He walked out of the cabin, adjusted his dark sunglasses with a flowing texture, and completely eroded the perception of the two bastards in his body. Then Ron turned into a golden meteor and shot straight into the sky.

The time is just right now, as someone is holding a ceremony and there is no need for Master Ron to be too busy.

The invisible wind blades were like knife edges, destroying the flat ground into gullies, sending dirt flying and crushing rocks into powder.

"Captain, you guys cover me, I'm going to rush over and give him a fucking punch!"

A muscular Punisher wearing boxing gloves roared angrily.

He had never fought such a frustrating battle before. He was suppressed in a corner by endless wind blades. This was something that no irritable "sailor" could tolerate.

Frankly speaking, Sailor Path has some masochistic attributes. He can only exert his maximum strength and speed when his anger is trained to the maximum by the enemy.

Anyway, it was hard for Ron to imagine whether the "Original Creator", as the end point of this path, had any unknown secrets or hobbies hidden deep in his heart.

The "praiser" praises himself, the "sailor" is a masochist and a violent person, the "reader" is a noble person who studies books, the "shepherd" takes the blame and crawls in the dark, and as for the remaining "audience", aren't they just voyeurs?

It turns out that you are so “original”!
Seeing that the battle below was becoming more and more intense, the grumpy old man could no longer suppress his anger. Between being angered to death and being beaten to death, he chose the latter. Ron immediately waved his arm to seal off the space here and isolate all the punishers outside.

The cultists worked so hard to hold the ceremony, we can't let their work go in vain. Inside a burial hall on the top of the mountain.

"Bishop Miller, all of the Storm Lord's lackeys have retreated!"

A figure in a black robe hurried to the front of the altar, respectful and excited, reporting the situation outside in a hurried tone.

"Storm Lord's Lackey"

A hunter is a hunter after all, and the words of the descendants of Medici are quite disgusting. Even though they have betrayed their own beliefs, Bishop Miller still couldn't help but twitch his face.

"This can't last long. We must hold a ceremony to let the God of Weather give us more power, otherwise this place will soon be destroyed by the Punishers!"

"Don't underestimate them. The power that a team of Mandated Punishers can mobilize is far beyond your imagination!"

Miller Carter suppressed his anger and breathed heavily. He looked around with a slightly crazy look and said in a low and hoarse voice:
"We need more sacrifices. Only in this way can we obtain more gifts!"

As he spoke, bloodstains appeared on the two-meter-long and one-meter-wide altar, and a pungent, fishy smell filled the air. The blood was stained with the color of rust and continuously flowed out from a headless and esophagus-less corpse, quickly dyeing everything red.

The mist reappeared, with a cold and slippery touch and a pungent smell of rust, covering the entire burial hall.

Suddenly, a headless corpse crawled out of the coffin. Its features were exactly the same as the one lying on the altar: it also had no head, no neck, and no esophagus.

"Grit, come here!"

At this time, Miller Carter's voice came from the depths of the fog, causing all the black-robed people present to look at a man who was covering his right arm.

'I, I can still be saved, I can still help.'

"Bishop, you can't do this. We still have time. We can go to the town to arrest people!"

Gretel collapsed to the ground in an instant, his body trembling continuously, and a large area of ​​his black robe at the crotch was wet.

"No! You can't. Your right arm has been broken. Besides, it's night time and the weather is unusual. The residents in the town won't open their doors."

Miller's voice came from the depths of the fog, his tone tinged with an lingering chill.

At this moment, a slightly crazy voice came from the fog.

"Haha, you are hopeless. We must gain more power!"

"Have you forgotten the cruel history of the Storm Church replacing our faith?!"

"How many people died at their hands? Don't you care about that at all!? Huh?"

"We want revenge, revenge, and fucking revenge!"

"Not only you, but you, Miller, and I will all do this. This is our destiny!"

"Come, let's line up, how beautiful will the pain and despair we get be!?"

"We can certainly please the weather gods!"

"..."

The first half of the words were spoken with passion and full of fearlessness, fully arousing the emotions of everyone present.

But when he talked about the second half, things became more and more abnormal, and when he stopped talking, even the cultists fell silent for a moment.

After a while, Bishop Miller's voice came from the depths of the thick fog, with a hint of fear in his tone.

"You're taking this too far!"

Ron curled his lips, not taking it seriously.

How can we call upon the city of disaster if we are not extreme? ?
(End of this chapter)