The yellow-haired villain in Feng Aotian's novel also wants happiness

…

"Okay, everyone, we're here."

After a not too long trek, Freya stopped and, like a professional tour guide, enthusiastically introduced what was in front of everyone:

"Dang-dang-dang, this is our destination...an altar!"

On the ground made of pink flesh, a dark circular platform suddenly protruded. It was engraved with mysterious lines. It was unknown what material it was made of, but it seemed to have a strange magic power that could absorb people's souls.

"altar?"

Margarita forcibly took her eyes away from the altar, to stop the strange feeling that her soul was about to be taken away, and said with an ugly face:

"You don't want to sacrifice us to the evil god, do you?"

Anne and Paul on the side were also pale and stared at Freya.

"Don't look at me with such a scary look. How could I do such a scary thing? I am also a candidate for the Saint, right?"

Freya clapped her hands and chuckled:

"Okay, without further ado, let's both stand up together."

After saying that, Freya stood on the altar first.

Under the forcible control, Annie had to move little by little even though she was extremely reluctant.

And Margarita, under the threat of Paul holding the sword around her neck, could only give him a look that would teach you a lesson later, and had no choice but to walk towards the altar.

"Quick...quick, if there is any way to escape, use it quickly."

Anne forced her body closer to Margarita, gritted her teeth, and whispered.

"If you don't use it, you won't have a chance!"

"If I had a way, I would have used it long ago."

Margarita's face was expressionless: "Give me another half hour and I might be able to remove the spores in my body, but I'm still helpless to control you."

"The roasted turkey has been cold for half an hour. I see you have been thinking for so long just now. Is it true that you don't even have a solution?"

"I'm sorry, thinking is one thing, whether there are results is another."

"waste!"

Annie was furious: "Others say you have big breasts and no brains. If you have such small breasts, can't you be smarter?"

"Haha, each other."

"..."

"..."

The two people who were really hurt by each other finally stood on the altar helplessly. Opposite them was Freya who looked at them with a smile:

"Okay, now, can you please slit your wrists? I need some of your blood."

"Blood?"

Annie's face turned pale: "Can't you do it?"

"no."

"I'm bleeding!"

"It won't work if you faint from blood."

"Can we draw more of her blood?"

Ignoring Margarita's cold eyes, Anne betrayed her companion without hesitation: "She is much heavier than me, and she must have more blood."

"Giggle, don't worry, Miss Anne, I won't ask for too much blood, at least not enough to put your life in danger.

so……"

Margarita looked into Anne's eyes and said meaningfully: "It's better not to do this kind of thing of pretending to be pitiful and delaying time. It's meaningless."

"Tsk."

Seeing that the disguise was useless, Annie's expression turned ugly again.

But her body was obviously not as tough as her expression and mouth. She had already taken out a sharp dagger and cut her wrist open.

The blood with a hint of golden light flowed and merged into the altar.

Margarita reluctantly complied.

After both of them slit their wrists, Freya followed suit and slit her own white wrists.

The blood of the three people was flowing on the altar.

"This is……"

Looking at the traces of blood flowing together with the lines on the altar, Margarita's pupils suddenly shrank:

"Coordinate positioning? This is a coordinate altar!"

"What is the Altar of Coordinates?" Annie asked quickly.

"A kind of altar often used by cultists. Its only function is... to provide the evil gods with positioning coordinates in this world that their bodies cannot reach..."

Margarita looked at Freya in horror: "Your purpose... No, it should be said to be the purpose of the God of Love. Is it to make an evil god come to this place?"

"...You are truly worthy of being the Platinum Princess, Miss Margarita. Her knowledge is indeed broad enough."

Freya closed her eyes and watched the threads of blood gradually gathering in the center of the altar, forming a small blood-colored lake, and said softly:

"Yes, this is a coordinate altar. Its purpose...is indeed to locate the coordinates of a certain being."

"Then why use our blood?"

Margarita said in confusion: "We have nothing to do with the evil god."

The premise for locating the coordinates is that the sacrificed items must be related to the evil god, or the power retained by the evil god, or something polluted by the evil god. Only by using those things as a guide can the evil god be summoned.

But what can their blood summon? Magical girl?

Freya did not answer directly, but suddenly leaned down and touched the altar:

"The original function of this altar is not positioning, but...prayer."

"What?"

“People in this country used to pray on this altar every day and night to the goddess they believed in.

I prayed for salvation, prayed for forgiveness, but unfortunately, there was no response. Do you know why? "

"Because..."

Before Margarita could answer, Freya said to herself:

"This country has been exiled. It was exiled by... the first-generation saint herself."

"Exile? Is this the origin of the Lost Land?"

Margarita was stunned: "But why? Why did the first-generation saint want to be exiled here? Aren't the people here all followers of the goddess?"

"Inverted."

"Inverted?"

"Yes, similar, but opposite."

Freya looked up at the quiet bright moon and sighed: "This is really the most blackly humorous joke in the world."

"Similar...but opposite..."

Countless complicated thoughts emerged in Margarita's mind. Looking at the disgusting land in the distance, she seemed to have caught the thread of something.

But at this moment, she forced herself not to think deeply anymore, because even if she knew the answer to that kind of question, it would have no effect on the situation at hand.

"The first-generation saint...that's why you use our blood?"

"Yes, only the blood of the saint can penetrate the 'wall' and send coordinates to the outside."

"But we are not saints yet."

"about there."

Freya said softly: "We have been trained as saintly candidates since we were young. We have experienced several baptisms of holy light. The blood of saints has already been flowing in our bodies. All we need is the final ceremony."

"So the quality is not enough, so we have to rely on quantity?" Anne glared and interjected.

"That's right."

Freya praised: "Miss Anne is so smart."

"Hmph." Annie snorted reservedly, showing her presence.

Margarita lowered her head and looked at the wound on her wrist.

She said she was not allowed to delay, but Freya didn't seem to care at all about the small actions she and others made.

Therefore, the wound on the wrist is actually not big, at least the blood does not flow too fast.

This way, there shouldn't be too much blood loss in a short period of time.

Margarita took a deep breath, raised her head suddenly, looked at the girl in front of her who had pushed the situation to this point, and said seriously:

"Freya, stop it, it's not too late."

"oh?"

As if she didn't expect Margarita to say such a thing, Freya said in confusion:

"Why?"

"Because, I know... you are actually still a good person."

"..."

There was a brief silence, and everyone looked at Margarita blankly with an expression like "What are you talking about?"

Even Freya couldn't help but tilt her head, showing a girlish look of confusion and naivety:

"What are you talking about? I did something too extreme."

"That's right!"

Anne on the side nodded vigorously: "What this guy did was so abominable and caused so many people to lose their heads. How can you say that she..."

"Yes, many people have lost their heads because of her backstabbing and death contract, but what happens next?" Margarita suddenly asked.

"Then, of course, the teleportation scroll was triggered, and then those people were teleported out, and then..."

Anne suddenly stopped talking because she also noticed something.

"Then...he was taught to heal the injury." Margarita said for her:

"Freya, didn't you say this to Moon Campbell before? With the church's ability, even if the neck is cut off, it can be cured in a short time.

So, those people seemed to have a miserable end, but in fact... they were just eliminated like everyone else. "

Speaking of this, Margarita couldn't help but sneer: "A disciple of the evil god, you have planned so painstakingly, but in the end not even one person died. Miss Freya, your destructive power is not even comparable to that of me who is eighty years old." As for my grandma, at least she still goes to the forest to kill one or two monsters from time to time. "

"..."

Freya fell silent.

"Having said this, let's talk about another thing."

Margarita continued:

"I just mentioned the purpose of the God of Love. Now, let's talk about... your purpose, Freya."

Freya's expression finally changed slightly.

"Your purpose is..."

Margarita did not continue to look at Freya, but turned her head and looked at... Brian next to her:

"Save, or rather... resurrect your knight, am I right, Miss Freya?"

"resurrection?"

Feeling that she couldn't keep up with her train of thought, Annie almost shook off the petals on her head, and said in confusion:

"What kind of resurrection? Isn't this guy still alive and well in front of us?"