Orc Tyrant

God exists, but the form of His existence is incomprehensible by mortal minds.

Only the truly detached can see one or two.

He stopped, let the thought fill his body and mind, and bring him comfort.

This simple acceptance of the divinity brought him such warmth and comfort, as if there was a panacea that would get rid of all the ailments that had plagued him for nearly a year.

He smiled immediately, but found that the pen in his hand was swiping unconsciously on the paper in front of him.

Silas let go of his hand in surprise, but the pen still automatically wrote in front of him, and then he looked down at the written text.

He needs you.

The cold fear grabbed him, but the fear was calmed down immediately, and a kind of trust and love that made him feel at ease filled him.

The psychedelic image automatically appeared in his mind: a tall and strong white Oker dressed in the newly minted bright silver armor, with its iconic smiley face shining like coals in a furnace.

Afterwards, sharp claws stretched out from Oak's guard, and a dark green halo lit up in his neck guard. Under the halo, his face was as terrible as a demon.

"Do not……"

Silas gasped. This terrifying sight made a powerful and unspeakable horror occupy his mind, but this sight had just emerged for a moment, and it was immediately replaced by another sight—

A God of War with blood flowing like lava, whizzed towards the pale Ouke, and at the same time, four purple arms kept the pale tyrant from behind. It was a constantly twisting creature that was neither male nor female.

His appearance dispelled all panic, and Silas felt his love for the goddess' messenger filling him like a pure and gorgeous light.

As he smiled happily, the scene suddenly dimmed.

Arcing claws appeared in the field of vision, and began to tear at the image of the goddess messenger.

This sudden evil omen made Silas scream.

He looked down again at the words on the paper, such simple words with such an urgent sense of crisis.

He needs you.

An existence has just passed him a message.

"Damn..."

Silas cursed and straightened up from the throne made of skinned flesh and gold and silver.

He glanced at the dim lighting around with those bloodshot lavender dead fish eyes, and his long black forked tongue casually licked his sharp teeth.

"the host--"

With a reminder, as if being irritated, the long tongue suddenly pulled out a sharp tooth, and suddenly a few drops of blood flowed through the lips and chin, and the color was dark as mellow wine mixed with ashes.

The strong stimulus then swept across Silas's body, his pupils suddenly expanded, his chest undulated violently, injecting the fragrance of metallic blood into the inhuman lungs.

The flexible long tongue immediately twitched randomly, filling the tip of the tongue and every fang with the smell of patina.

At this moment, the blood flowing is so beautiful, so-

emptiness.

"the host--"

The second reminder triggered an unpleasant twitch at the corner of his mouth, and Silas' throat suddenly made a low noise, which was the beginning of the next roar.

The speaker knows that he has attracted the attention of the other party and is angry, so he chooses to explain it concisely.

"The soul singer of Altar No. 6 was killed by Ok, and the idol was destroyed."

"Oh?"

The roar that was about to be sent softened by the message, and then turned into a pleasant giggle.

Silas sneered cruelly, and rows of fangs flashed under his lips.

"But I'm curious, how did Oak find our altars? Obviously someone is guiding them, or secretly guiding them, maybe..."

"Master, Chief Priest Rubitaire has something to ask you."

"What happened to him?"

Silas frowned, but stood up, dragging the shadows towards the door.

No matter where it is, wherever he goes, the shadow follows him.

If Ruowu's whispers linger around Silas, the invisible creature that just keeps out of sight or hides in the shadows is his eternal companion.

When he came to the space where the chief priest was, the whisperers slipped out of Silas' shadow and gathered in the dark corner of the room.

This stone wall hut was built to imitate the ancient temple, which was built by the ancient Ada, in the Benedict empire, has been destroyed by the Shadow Prince.

He didn't intend to let anyone know the secrets there, but Silas knew what he was afraid of.

Diego is an Ada, and that is the secret that all Ada should fear.

Deep underground, this shrine was low, narrow and sultry. A crackling fire pit in the middle of the room provided light, and the pulsating flames left an indefinite shadow on the wall.

"My master."

The chief priest, who was wearing a purple robe without a single hair on his entire face, bowed and said:

"sorry to disturb you."

"Then you'd better say a reason not to be so sorry, otherwise...I don't mind an extra belt."

"Regarding the last proposal, the other party sent another message, seeking real cooperation."

"Do you still think we should seek skin with tigers?"

"I also learned about the destruction of Altar No. 6, and now we really need a helper, at least not an enemy."

"well."

Silas let go very refreshingly, which was a bit beyond Rubitaire's expectation. He was stunned for a few seconds.

"We have paid a great price to get to this point, Rubitaire, it's better to be worth it, for the good of all of us, and especially for your good."

"Of course, Master."

Rubitel promised, ignoring Silas' threat.

"Our allies look forward to talking directly with you."

Then the chief priest lowered his body and looked down at the fire pit. The light reflected on his shaved head and also on the long purple robe. There was also a symbol of circle and crescent moon on the robe.

Although he was very confident before, he hesitated secretly when things came to an end.

Negotiating with the lunatics of the blood worship is never a simple and straightforward matter, and once he disappoints the Masked Prince, then his life is guaranteed.

At this moment, Silas's existence filled the temple, and he looked extraordinarily magnificent and mighty in that moonstone-like shiny armor.

This armor used to be the standard equipment of the Shadow Blade in the past, but it far surpassed the latter in terms of decoration and strength. The purple symbol of the happy lady in the middle of the breastplate is also embedded in other parts such as the shoulder armor. Several deadly claws replaced fingers on the monster-like handguard, and a pink thorny whip was wrapped around the wrist of the other hand.

Rubitaire picked up a book from the fire, stood up, turning the pages of the old book in reverence, until he found a complex figure of intertwined emblems.

"We are ready. Once the sacrifice is complete, I can begin the ceremony."

Silas nodded.

"Then you start."

After a while, the naked slaves with their hoods brought in a woman, or a witch.