When I saw the card slot, I looked to the side. There was actually an energy slot and... a place where the soul should theoretically be placed.
Mark couldn't hold himself any longer.
The first thought in his mind was all kinds of weird hunting books: "You can defeat my body, but you can't defeat my heart.", "Your body is enough for me. Hahaha!"
Then you really want to take that guy's body and replace it with an obedient soul?
Mark's mind was in a mess, because he really recalled the incident in the church books about certain strong men being forcibly corrupted. Of course, this had little to do with the Hall of Valor, but it was obvious that the gods also plundered each other's heroic souls.
Angel and transformed into the habit of his subordinates.
Mark took out a large stack of Blood Moon cards and suddenly smiled bitterly.
If you operate it in the form of a psychic circle, you can only summon a soul puppet that has no brains and can only listen to basic commands and follow its own fighting instincts.
What would happen if the card was inserted?
Mark thought about it, if he used the spiritual body in the card as the basis and injected the soul of the knight who was loyal to him, what kind of power would the knight come out with? It would be a bit of a pain if he still used the power of the card.
Most of the Blood Moon cards in Mark's hand, except for the Temple of Reincarnation, were from the evil sect. The power of the Temple of Reincarnation was geared towards dealing with spirits, and he didn't really want to use them.
The more useful ones are a dancing believer named [Bonnie Dolan] and a light guardian knight card named [Vince Ludian]. They were before the Blood Moon Baptism stage performance.
The former evil spirit who volunteered to become the card in his hand.
It's a pity that he only has A-level strength, which means he is only at the level of Sequence 7 at most.
It's a bit useless to let them out now. Mark is far away from the time when he can storm the army, so getting the heroic spirits out in advance will not be of much use except to waste spiritual energy.
As a short-term summon, it is enough for him to have the puppet of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
After thinking again and again, Mark decided to put aside the plan to cultivate heroic spirits for the time being.
It's very simple. He lacks a channel to purify the spirit body, and as soon as he hears the Hall of Heroes, he knows that it will probably require a huge amount of spiritual power to be activated. After it is activated, it is still unknown whether it can be stopped. Just rely on him to purify the demons.
The remaining spiritual essence of the general will most likely not be enough.
With his spiritual power, he could probably get by with that mysterious newspaper.
Unfortunately, through practice, [Newspaper] can certainly absorb the spiritual power of the surrounding earth, but its scope is limited, and it cannot conflict with existing spiritual power absorption systems.
It should be noted that the churches of each church are built on spiritual veins. If you open the [newspaper] and interfere with the other party's absorption of the spiritual power of the earth, it means a more serious invasion.
So at this stage, this Hall of Heroes that belongs to him cannot be opened casually.
Leaving the sarcophagus with a bit of regret, Mark suddenly said "Hey", and a voice from the soul told him that there was a secret room behind the sarcophagus.
It's a bit embarrassing to say that the door to the secret room is a huge mural, and the guy on the mural is none other than himself.
In the painting, Mark is majestic and looks into the distance with his spiritual eyes. He holds a book with the emblem of the God of Knowledge in his left hand, and holds a gun in his right hand pointing in the same direction of his sight.
The corpse of the miserable demon general was trampled under his feet.
And Minnie, Helena, Conrad and others gathered around him.
I don't know how this painting came about, but it is full of the atmosphere of praise common to the Church of God.
Mark felt a little anxious just looking at this 'self-portrait'.
However, with a thought, the murals and the seemingly solid walls disappeared, revealing a spacious secret room. The entire secret room was empty, except for a thick tome on the first desk on the left after entering the door.
This is a record that was absorbed into Mark’s soul when the [Lair] was blown up.
Mark opened this large book covered with unknown leather and opened the pages made of a parchment-like material. Lines of text that he had never seen before appeared from the slightly yellowed pages.
He couldn't understand the words.
This does not prevent the font from communicating directly with the soul, directly overcoming the language barrier and turning it into the language of the soul that he understands.
[July 8, 999, in the calendar year of Balan God. I, XXX, have been ordered by the Supreme God XXX to establish an outpost in this space crack that is extremely close to the real plane. 】
The name that appeared here seemed to have become some kind of lost taboo. Mark tried to touch the name, but his finger was bounced back. He could only estimate that these names have been blocked and spurned by the next batch of gods, and even the names have been blocked.
They are all banned by some mysterious law and are not allowed to appear in this world.
Mark continued reading.
[August 9th. The establishment of the outpost went smoothly. Although we were harassed by those 'greedy' guys, we successfully defended it.】
[September 3rd. Too bad, the entire Seventh Legion lost contact. They were not simply wiped out. What on earth is going on? 】
[October 11th. Damn it, how could this storm in the spiritual world be so big? There are cracks in my Lord’s Kingdom of God? My Lord is XXXX’s XXXX!]
What follows are more than 20 battle records, but the date and who they fought with are all blacked out by mysterious power. Only the words "Battle" and "Storm" can be barely seen.
[November 20th, farewell, my Lord! I am your most loyal XXX]
There is no more records here.
Mark turned the page and saw nothing but blank space.
He touched his chin: "Obviously, since the old era, there has been a great purge once in a thousand years. All the gods know about it, otherwise they would not have sent forwards to serve as outposts in advance. It can be judged from the fact that the [Greed] Church is still alive.
Maybe the Demon God has some way to circumvent the Great Purge?"
"Then this supposedly powerful god miscalculated, and his kingdom began to collapse."
"Too little information."
"However, it seems that this divine war arsenal was not completely destroyed, but became a [nest] of powerful evil spirits, serving as an advance base to corrode the real world. The destructive power of that storm seems to be limited?"
"Or maybe all the angels have died, and only the factory is left? Then why do we need the factory?"
"There's absolutely no point in doing this."
"If I get this factory but lose the people, what will I do?"
Mark shook his head to drive these bad thoughts out of his mind, closed the big book, turned around and walked out of the Hall of Valor.
"Huh?" Mark noticed that there was actually a Lake of Souls behind the Hall of Valor.
Walking over, Mark saw a small wooden dock. The 'ghost ship' used for the last boat trip in the spirit world was still moored on the dock.
Mark seemed to be caught in memories, subconsciously walked onto the ship, entered his cabin, and then saw the broken body of the Valkyrie still lying on his bed.
He was surprised to notice that the spiritual thread at the gap on Valkyrie's left shoulder had become thicker.
"This is……"
Mark understood clearly, and with a thought, he returned to reality.
Looking at the steel ceiling above his head, Mark felt a little disappointed.
He somewhat understands that in this world where gods are about to rush to the streets, there is little point in pursuing the so-called godhead. The real plane will most likely become the main battlefield. It is hard to improve one's strength and establish a foothold on the main battlefield.
reason.
There was no time for him to rest.
Mark walked out of the door and came to the lowest level of the ship, which was Helena's workshop.
Despite various sound insulation measures, the sharp and harsh sound of the lathe working was still heard when going down the stairs to the lowest floor.
There was a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door, but Mark pushed the door open and went in.
As soon as you enter the door, you can see a slim and fit figure operating a huge milling machine, using a milling cutter to process a shield.
Compared with the traditional slowly chipping with a knife and an axe, milling cutters are more efficient and bring greater risks.
After all, when the shield embryo was forged, [Sun Sand], which is the easiest to exert the power of light, was used. Although this extremely fine gravel can enhance the light power of the shield, at the cost, it will become quite difficult to process, and the talisman will be carved in the process.
You can't make any mistake in writing. If you miss it, your shield will be destroyed.
To process tons of metal mixed with [Sun Sand], the light array must be turned on during processing, which makes the temperature near the lathe reach an exaggerated sixty degrees Celsius.
Even with protective clothing on, it was still as hot as a steamer.
Mark just watched Helena's work quietly until she finished processing the shield in one go, slowly stopped the high-speed rotating milling cutter, and turned off the heated light circle.
When Helena stopped and took off the tight protective suit, she was stunned when she saw Mark behind her.
"Ah! Young Master... Mark, I... um, when did you come?" Helena lowered her head and had nowhere to place her hands. She seemed to feel that her calloused hands were unsightly after years of using tools.
He retracted his hand towards his back.
As a result, as soon as she retreated, her left hand was grabbed by Mark.
"Hey, is this the same girl who rushed at you regardless of everything that day? Why does it look like a different person? Don't run away, I think we need to have a good talk."
"That time, I offended, uh, I'm sorry..." Helena was incoherent. She wanted to retreat but couldn't. Her eyes had nowhere to focus.
Mark grabbed her arms with both hands, making her feel like an ostrich.
According to common sense, Mark felt that Helena would not run away and should be able to calm down and talk to him.
Unexpectedly, Helena seemed to be stimulated by something, or she mustered up the courage to fight.
Her body suddenly sank, and she made a standard wrestling move. She grabbed Mark's waist, rushed forward, and pushed Mark onto the sofa next to the lathe where she was resting.
Looking down at Mark condescendingly, with tears falling like pearls, her red lips spoke like a machine gun:
"What are you talking about? What do you want me to talk about? I'm just an idiot's illegitimate daughter raised by a mechanic. I don't know anything about literature, music, or dance, and I don't have that kind of talent. I don't do anything except fight and tinker with machinery.
Yes. My hands are covered with calluses, and my body is covered in oil all day long. Do you dislike me like this, Mark?"
Mark was stunned for a moment: "Dislike you? No! I have never disliked you."
This time, it was Helena's turn to give up. Seeing that there was no falsehood in Mark's clear eyes, she suddenly broke into tears and smiled: "You really don't dislike it?"
"Of course not!" Mark said decisively, and he regretted it.
Because Helena's next words were: "Prove it to me!"