A Tale of Strategies For the Throne

It was late at night, the bright meniscus hung in the night sky, countless fine shattered stars shining, and all stars arched the moon.

In the valley of the deep mountain, on a piece of earth, there are rugged black stones, which are made of natural or artificially polished, with different shapes, and a dark black and blue luster under the moonlight.

Most of these black stones have dense holes. When the night breeze passes by, they let them whine incessantly. Among the piles of black rocks, the light and shadow of nothingness are intertwined, as if there are some invisible monsters lurking in the darkness, struggling to come out, it is creepy.

The bonfire is burning.

The huge red flame that was as big as a house burned in the dark night, spitting clusters of gorgeous tongues into the night sky.

At the foot of the crimson flame is a large piece of black and blue slate.

The hundreds of square meters of dark blue stone slabs spread out on the ground, which is an irregular circle.

There are countless lines engraved on the stone slab, which are obviously all carved by humans. The lines are exquisite without any error. The engraved lines that meandered the whole black blue stone slab, like patterns, patterns, and runes, with an unspeakable mysterious atmosphere, when looked deeply, somehow like the whole soul will be sucked in Feeling of horror.

The lines carved on the black and blue stone slab should have the same color as the stone slab, but in the reflection of the fire light, the edges of those lines all reveal a little blood red color.

That's the blood that stained the blood for a long time.

The looming blood color under the fire light made this dark blue stone slate more and more revealing the dark atmosphere of the soul.

At this moment, it is like a greedy monster from the dark abyss, with its mouth wide open, and it will never satisfy the blood and soul it desires.

The black robe stood quietly before the campfire, and the blazing fire reflected on his body, but strangely unable to drive away the shadow on his body.

His face has been hidden in darkness, and no one can peep into his appearance.

He stood by the campfire with his hands down, motionless, like a black slate erected around the campfire, and he could not feel a breath of life from him.

When the fanatics came from a distance and sent the sacrifice he had fought for, the black robe had finally moved.

He turned his head and looked in that direction.

The face hidden under the hood of the robe was unclear, but the turbulent air could feel his eyes hot at this moment.

A wicker soft seat was carried by four believers and slowly walked towards the altar.

The young children sat quietly in it.

In the dark night, the child's pale blonde hair and snow-white skin were exceptionally conspicuous, and they seemed to glow slightly under the firelight.

Because he had just been forced into the lake to clean himself, the pale blonde hair that hung on the cheeks was still a bit wet, and occasionally a little water droplets dripped on Gallan's cheeks.

The dust and dirt stained during the escape have also been washed away, revealing pure skin.

The female believers who were responsible for cleaning him cleaned him and changed his clothes. The clothes that had been worn out in the past few days were thrown away. He is now wearing the same black as these believers. Blue clothes.

It's just that it wasn't a robe. It was a sleeveless short robe that exposed his neck, half chest, hands and legs to the night. Gallan probably guessed the reason why he exposed these parts.

Gallan, who was sitting in a chair, gritted his teeth and tried to move, but his body was so soft that he couldn't even move his fingers.

Those people forcibly gave him a potion of potion. I don’t know what it was. After drinking it, he couldn’t make any effort. The body seemed to be completely paralyzed. They could only let those people put him on the seat and then lift him up. come.

Suddenly cold in the back, as if a chill hit, Gallan looked up.

His breath suffocated slightly, because he saw the man in the black robe making his heart hair slowly approaching him.

The man's eyes were fixed on him, as if looking at a lamb to be slaughtered.

The black robe nodded slightly towards the side, and then, the two fanatics standing next to each other grabbed one of Gallan's arms and stood Gallan up, almost holding him up. The black robe walked.

The black robe stood on the spot and stretched out a hand from the tightly wrapped black robe.

A female believer stepped forward and knelt at his feet, holding a black wooden plate. There was a feather pen on it, and a small plate of blood red paint.

The abnormally white hand held the white feather pen on the plate, stained with the blood-red color. The black robe leaned over and used the pen to carefully and meticulously draw complex and mysterious **** runes on the skin of the child in front of him.

First the calf, then the arm, and finally the neck.

Normally, the sacrificial runes were made by the fanatic believers in advance on the sacrifice, but this time, there must be no mistakes in this important sacrifice, so he took care of it himself.

After the black robe put the red feather pen back on the wooden plate, the skin exposed on Gallan's body was almost filled with dense blood red patterns.

The snow-white skin is lined with the blood-red pattern and the red flame, giving a very strange feeling.

He wanted to struggle, but his body couldn't move, and he could only stand by two people beside him, standing in front of the campfire.

The black robe's hand stretched out towards him, and his fingers quickly changed into various gestures before his eyes.

He didn't know what the other party wanted to do, just frowned, looking at the hand that was moving in front of him in doubt.

After a while, the hand suddenly stopped.

He heard the black robe laugh, and the laugh was low, vaguely revealing a sense of satisfaction and joy.

"It's worth having..."

The black robe withdrew his hand and said, "The power of God cannot confuse you."

Gallan froze for a moment, and then understood instantly.

He remembered the first sacrifice he saw. The child stood on the altar with no eyes, even if his hands and feet were cut, and he didn’t move even when he finally cut his throat. .

Come to think of it, the kid probably got something like hypnosis.

Just now, this man in black robe also wanted to hypnotize him and let him voluntarily let them bleed like other children. But somehow, it seemed to have no effect on himself, so the black robe gave up.

The two male fanatics next to him carried Gallan in one hand and grasped Gallan's in the other, and let him reach forward with both hands, reaching out to their priest.

The black robe priest took the golden dagger sent by the believer who was kneeling at his feet. He held the golden dagger cast with the symbol of all things in his hands, pressed it against his forehead, and whispered a few words.

Then, with a wave of his hand, he cut Gallan's wrist with a golden dagger.

The blood bleed out, flowing over the blood-red pattern on Gallan's wrist, and ran down the slender arm, dropping drop by drop on the black slate stone that Gallan was standing on.

The dripping blood instantly merged into the lines carved on the stone slab, and slowly flowed forward along the winding lines, little by little filled with those dry, hungry patterns.

The fire was shining, and the moment when the dim glyphs touched the bleeding blood, it seemed to light up abruptly, like a grisly monster with a movement, waking up a little bit.

At the same time, the long, breathtaking singing of the black robe rang in the night.

Standing in front of the campfire, he raised his pale hands and raised his **** gold dagger on his right hand.

His low voice was not loud, but at this moment it seemed that there was an invisible force spreading his trembling voice from the bottom of his heart on this land.

Countless believers in black robes kneeled piously around the blue stone slab, cast their bodies on the ground on the four or five days of the campfire, and buried their faces deeply on the ground.

The wound cut by the black robe is not light and heavy, and it just keeps the degree that the blood can slowly flow out.

Garland was standing on top of the bluestone slab, and his hand was still raised in the air.

He couldn't move. He could only watch his wrist continually bleeding, like a broken bead, falling down in the night.

Immediately after, his ankle hurt.

The chanting man in black robe leaned over and this time cut his ankle.

Gallan couldn't see his feet, but he could feel the warm liquid pouring out of the severely painful place and flowing through his heels.

The world in front of him began to shake unsteadily. His excessive blood loss made him feel dizzy.

Not only that, but in addition to the severe pain of the body being cut, there was some kind of unspeakable fear that held his heart tightly.

In this depressing darkness, in the weird red eyes, he must watch his blood continually flowing... He has to feel the blood in his body flowing out little by little, even with Together, my vitality fades away...

This time of feeling yourself slowly dying is a very long and terrible process.

This extreme fear can almost drive people crazy.

Did this time die in the hands of such a guy in this way?

He thought in a trance.

...It would be better to die in the hands of Huimus.

The vision began to blur, as if even oxygen was gradually losing. Gallan felt his breath start to pick up, and his chest became more and more violent.

The firelight in the sight was dim, the darkness struck, slowly eroding him, taking away the light in his eyes.

The child's once bright golden eyes had been completely dimmed at this moment, and the drooping eyelashes had fallen into dark shadows under his eyes, like an ominous omen that enveloped the pupil that had slowly spread away.

Huimus...

Jerk.

You don't mean anything.

auzw.com In the final consciousness, he cursed Huimos, and Gallan fell into darkness completely.

boom!

The campfire suddenly flashed violently.

It was the moment the blood flowing down the winding glyph touched the bottom of the bonfire, and before the black robe with his hands chanting loudly, it rushed towards the sky and burned fiercely.

An extremely subtle shadow that no ordinary person could feel appeared in the fiery flame.

The chanting stopped abruptly, and the black robe looked at the black shadow in the flames, and he shuddered with excitement.

For the first time in such a long time, for the first time, he was the first time he felt the breath of the God he was serving with all his heart.

Even just such a slight invisible breath has made him ecstatic.

God--

Tim Yat! Goddess of creation!

After a long time, you will finally wake up from the abyss of death again!

Oh my God!

Did you hear--

Your humble and loyal believers will give you everything——

The ecstasy made the black robe tremble with excitement.

He thought, sure enough, this offering was the most correct way.

Now, as long as he sacrifices all the flesh and soul of this precious sacrifice to his god—

Thinking of this, the black robe can't wait to turn around and walk towards the offering.

The framed child bleeds a lot of blood, his breath weak, and his head droops weakly, and the pale gold hair wet with sweat seems to be tarnished and scattered on the bloodless cheeks at the moment.

The man in black robe stood in front of Gallan, grabbed Galran's blond hair with one hand, and grabbed the hanging head.

The child with the hair pulled was forced to tilt his head back, his lips flickering weakly against the blaze of the fiercely burning campfire in front of him, and there was no color and was shockingly white.

At this moment, the child's throat was exposed to the eyes of the black robe, and the dense blood red pattern was printed on the snow-white neck skin, making it more delicate and fragile.

The face of the black robe hidden in the shadow of the hood showed a fanatical look at this moment.

The blood-drenched gold dagger shone with a golden-red glow in the firelight.

The pale hand of the black robe waved in the air.

The golden dagger glanced at the cold light in the night, and slashed fiercely into Gallan's throat--

A little bit cold came first.

Then the arrow was lightning.

As a white light suddenly cut through the night--

The black robe priest groaned, his right palm was pierced by the arrow, and blood spewed out.

There was no time to cut through the light-skinned gold dagger on Gallan's neck. He was struck by the arrow and flew out. He whirled in the dark and fell on the stone slab with a click.

Everything happened so quickly that the black robe with the palm of his hand pierced by the arrow had not recovered, followed by another arrow.

This small arrow penetrated the wrist of his other hand, and the severe pain made him unconsciously loosen the hair of the child he was holding.

Holding his two hands pierced by arrows, the black robe turned suddenly.

The next second, his pupil hidden under the hood suddenly dilated.

I saw a tall and burly figure coming out of the bright fire under the moonlight.

That person is like a thousand horses and horses running forward on the earth.

There is no one to stop the momentum.

The dark horse goddess coming from Mercedes in the dark night was incomparable, but the blink of an eye went from a distance to the black robe.

It raised its horse's hoof, stopped suddenly, and made a high-pitched hissing sound like a dragon.

The tall brown hair of the tall man riding a horse flew in the night, like a brown lion with angry hair.

His burning eyes were like charcoal fire, with terrifying oppression, he looked down on the black robe priest under the horse.

The man in black robe standing under the tall horse was shaking.

No one saw it, but his hands hidden under the black robe were indeed shaking uncontrollably.

Before this man riding a horse in front of him—

Before the king of Aaron Landis—

That is a figure that trembles all believers of all things.

As a towering high mountain stands between heaven and earth, no one can shake it.

King Camos.

The hero of Aaron Landis.

He strangled the entire animism by iron and blood a few years ago, making all animists hate it, but he was also terrified of it from the bottom of his heart.

A few years ago, the scene of the killing of an unmatched king like a lion was deeply imprinted in the heart of every believer.

That's a power that even the power God has given them can't resist.

They can't confront this king head-on.

Because this young king's breath of Jin Ge iron horse killed from the blood of the corpse mountain is enough to crush and crush all the power of darkness.

The king who is as young as the sun is like a blazing sun.

All kinds of sorcery, ghost and magic tricks will all disappear in the fierce sun.

Even the dark power from the abyss of **** can't contaminate this resolute and awe-inspiring king.

——The place where King Camos went is the place where the sun is shining, and all the shadows will be nothing.

The black robe stood under the tall black horse, and he watched the young king, who was terrified of him, rode on his horse and raised his arms.

King Camos looked down at him like he looked at a low-pitched ants who were secretly and secretly living in the dark.

He didn't even bother to glance at the true face under the hood of the black-robed man, raised his hand and waved a sword neatly.

The huge blade cut a cold light in the night.

Blood rose into the sky, and the head of the black-robed man was cut from his body with a hood he had never taken off.

The head wrapped in black cloth rolled in an arc in the air, spreading blood in the air along the way.

Suddenly, another horse galloped.

A teenager leaned on the horse's back, and the speed of the horse was pushed to the extreme by him.

He happened to be passing under the head rolling in the air, so the blood spattered from the head in the sky splashed a little on his cheeks and stained the corners of his eyes.

Jin Hong's eyes stared at him in front of him, as if he didn't feel the blood-stained Heimos running forward.

The next moment, the long sword in his hand split two traces in the air.

The arms of the two followers of Garland, who had passed out due to excessive blood loss, spewed out a lot of blood instantly, and their shoulders broke apart in their screams.

The body of the blond child who lost her support fell down softly, and she was about to fall to the ground.

On top of the galloping horse, Huimus jumped forward and flew off the horse.

The horse that lost the rider continued to gallop forward, deep into the night.

The boy dismounted almost kneeled on the ground almost at the moment of landing.

His hands stretched forward violently, and he embraced Gallan who fell forward softly into his arms—

The author has something to say: 　　 Ah, I finally finished writing the plot of Hero Saving the Beauty before I was on a business trip.

Yes, you guys are right.

I was arranged for a business trip, so please take two days off_:3∠_