The world-devouring dragon
Chapter 21 Chapter 221
Chapter 21 Chapter 20-——Twenty-one
…
The nineteenth moon rises.
More than a dozen strange, roaring, powerful monsters, whether birds, beasts, or insects, were then tied up with four limbs, six limbs, eight limbs, or various limbs and thrown next to the altar.
These monsters, without exception, are all large and ferocious beasts with great reputations in the area. They were originally on good terms with humans. However, at the request of the prophetess, several clan leaders led a group of Northmen and forced them to fight. Within a week, all these ferocious beasts were tied up to serve as sacrifices.
Filthy blood flowed all over the ground, and the prophetess murmured her prayers, but then, there was still no response...
The sacrifice failed again.
…
The twenty-third moon rises.
"ha!"
The tomahawk in his hand was on alert. The strong warrior leaned down and watched the big black bear in front of him vigilantly, guarding against a sudden attack.
Opposite him, the hungry black bear was salivating, ready to pounce at any time. It was only because he was a little wary of the weapons in the hands of the soldiers on the opposite side that he entered into a confrontation.
And around one person and one bear, a group of Norse people formed a huge circle, excitedly looking forward to the next bloodshed.
There is no doubt that this is a beast fight.
When the warrior and the bear fought together, the surrounding Norse people often burst into excited cheers. As for who was the last survivor, no one cared.
The female prophet was in front of the altar, watching this life-and-death fight to please those powerful beings, still trying to feel the call that existed in the dark.
…
The twenty-seventh moon rises.
The sacrifice was never successful.
The anxious North people finally decided not to be timid anymore and to do the next big thing...
The corpses of hundreds of slaves were piled up like a mountain, and their severed heads were enshrined on the altar, forming a daunting tower of skulls. Those eyes with despair and distorted faces before death seemed to be cursing the world. Same.
…
Thirty-eighth the moon rises.
…
The forty-seventh moon rises.
…
Inside the house, a fire burned quietly.
The prophetess sat calmly by the fire, while several clan leaders looked anxious in front of her.
After several months without the sun, their respective clans began to experience large-scale crises.
Food, wild beasts, disease, mosquitoes, and...cold.
The snowfall has already begun, but no one is sure when it will stop.
People fall ill every day, and people die every day. In order to get rid of the crisis, the success of the sacrifice has become their last straw. Because of this, no matter how great the loss is, they can only grit their teeth and hold on.
However, they did not dare to openly question the authority of the prophetess, and could only express their anxiety secretly by making insinuations.
Unlike the anxiety of the clan leaders, the prophetess has a calm and confident attitude.
"I saw……"
Facing the clan leaders, the prophetess said in a low voice.
"What we need to sacrifice is not flesh and blood, nor war, nor torture, but desire."
"The desire for survival, the desire for pain, the desire for despair, the desire for anger, the desire to beg, the desire for madness, the desire for war, the desire for love, the desire for greed, the desire for rage, the desire for jealousy, the desire for arrogance... We have sacrificed many times, and every time In fact, all the sacrifices were successful, and I have already felt the existence's recognition of this. However, these are just the foreshadowing before a grand sacrifice. This time, we will sacrifice the last desire, To complete the final sacrifice.”
…
The one hundred and third moon rises.
Although she always seemed to be failing a few times before, in the process of trying to communicate with some kind of existence, she gradually felt some extremely powerful and huge will.
That kind of majestic will in the dark is so powerful that it scares the female prophet. Just a glimpse in a trance, unable to see the whole picture, is enough to make the female prophet feel that what she is trying to communicate is a kind of power. What a magnificent existence.
More majestic than mountains, vaster than the sea, immeasurable and immeasurable.
It was those murmurs in the dark, like dreams, that were both illusory and real, that made the prophetess vaguely understand what kind of sacrifice that kind of existence wanted.
"Humble mortal, hereby offer you the last sacrifice..."
The prophetess closed her eyes and murmured, her tone becoming extremely humble and sincere, as if she was worshiping the gods.
No unnecessary words were said, because after many sacrifices, the prophetess had vaguely realized that this was the last sacrifice.
Success or failure depends on this.
"The devourer of all desires, the tyrant of the endless deep sea, the entangler of the world... The great serpent-Jormungandr, this humble mortal offers you all."
The prophetess chanted the name of the serpent, and her murmuring voice followed the wind and disappeared into the night.
…
Endless deep sea.
The unfathomable depths of the sea were pitch black and nothing could be seen.
In the dead darkness, the silence was eerie, as if some unimaginably huge behemoth lived here, but it was motionless, just sleeping quietly.
Suddenly, a pair of snake eyes suddenly opened, and the depths of the pupils revealed a chilling coldness.
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