The conversation between the two sounded a bit nonsensical, but in fact the exchange between them was quite shocking.
So, Vivian was a little moved.
The man who read the newspaper slashed to death the Apocalypse Knight of the chaotic evil camp, and drove back the man in white who was probably from the evil camp. He also drove back the Samsara Cultist who claimed to be absolutely neutral. Instead, he accepted the Storm Giant from the lawful neutral camp. This
Represents many things...
At least the man who read the newspaper did not resist the strong man of the lawful camp.
Originally, as a follower of the night in the lawful good camp, she was likely to be the target of public criticism and besieged by all the powerful cultists. Now that a newspaper-reading man appeared in front of her, she was safer.
Interestingly, in this blood moon baptism, the cultists did not have a numerical advantage?
Vivian couldn't help but recall the Nadal family's instructions:
The first thing is to protect yourself, her safety is the top priority.
The second step is to see if you can meet that dandy kid from the Destiny family, [useless] Mark. On the premise of ensuring your own safety, you might as well give him a hand.
Finally, these are the words of old Nadal:
"Vivian, your talent is outstanding among your peers. But in the long history measured in hundreds of years, your talent is above average. However, if you don't have enough talent, you have to get lucky. If you really have a chance,
, you can try to sit on 'that chair', as long as you go in, you can still come back alive. You will at least become the judge of a large area in the future."
Now that the situation is more favorable, Vivian decides to give it a go.
The heroic figure stood in front of Mark, and the flowing wind under the red moon shone with red light, flowing on the folds of her black robe.
The eyes exposed between her hood and mask were astonishingly bright.
In front of everyone, she showed off the magic-breaking silver crossbow under her black robe.
Mark noticed that the atmosphere at the scene had changed slightly, and he pretended not to care: "Oh?"
"I don't know who you are, where you come from, and what camp you belong to, but I admire your method of killing cultists. I swear in the name of the Lady of the Night, as long as you don't plot against me, I will be your hero in this blood moon ceremony.
eyes."
Vivian's sonorous and powerful words seemed to have some mysterious power, causing a silent commotion among the people around them. They kept looking into each other's eyes, trying to find the possibility of forming a new alliance.
Unfortunately, they failed.
Mark's record determines his control of the situation. Before he shows a truly convincing performance of weakness, he has the highest say here.
"Oh? What if, I mean what if... I said 'To hell with the Lady of the Night'?"
If Mark's words were put to the outside world, they could be regarded as a blasphemy against the Church of Light and Night.
Words full of fun and temptation.
Vivian's eyes suddenly opened to their maximum size, and suddenly there was an evil feeling in her heart, which drove her to make a move that even she would regret the next second.
In front of everyone, she sat down on the empty seat on Mark's left. Her muscles were like a compressed spring, stretched to the extreme, ready to explode at any time. The silver crossbow in her hand was pressed against Mark's left shoulder at almost zero distance, aiming.
The red lips under the mask spoke the sharpest words:
"If you really dare to do this, I will drag you out of this damn chair even if I try to annihilate my soul here."
Courageous! Spicy! Tough!
Facing a strong man like the newspaper reader, most people are unwilling to abide by the rules he forcefully set. But whoever dares to be the first to start a group against the strongest man will most likely die first.
No one is willing to do this kind of thing that harms others but does not benefit oneself.
Of course, if she dares to do this, someone will dare to join the group, such as the man in white who seems to be planning to retreat.
It can be said that Vivian's wonderful performance attracted everyone's attention.
The atmosphere suddenly became extremely tense.
In the eyes of most people, even if you are as strong as the newspaper reader, you may not be able to please this rose with thorns by force.
Someone must take the seat, and if the man reading the newspaper continues to exert pressure, even if the punisher of the night is eliminated, there is no guarantee that the next person who comes up will sincerely cooperate.
Just when everyone thought that Mark would use tougher words to persuade this stubborn punisher of the Church of the Night, the four words that came out of Mark's mouth that could decide life and death were...
"Oil! Paint! Not! Dry!"
At this moment, Vivian's bright eyes widened to the extreme, and her mind was completely blank.
There are question marks on the foreheads of all the melon-eating experts.
How can you play like this?
No! How dare you play like this!?
For a moment, Vivian thought Mark was lying, and then she smelled a faint smell of paint.
To be precise, it is something similar to paint made of special spiritual matter.
The Punisher of the Night is no stranger to this kind of thing. Every time he lets a light priest purify a place contaminated by evil spirits, it always smells like this afterward.
It's just that these diluted spiritual qualities made from demon generals bear the mark of Mark's spiritual power.
Vivian jumped up as if she was electrocuted, and while ducking back, she couldn't help but twist her body and look behind her.
Damn it!
On the surface, it looked like nothing, but in the soul vision, there were five horizontal marks on both sides of her buttocks, which looked like...
A pair of big handprints!
Vivian's blood pressure suddenly rose, and she was just a little bit close to pulling the trigger of the crossbow.
Unfortunately, when faced with the joking look in the newspaper reader's eyes, she suddenly calmed down.
Being manipulated by the other party, in the final analysis, she was too impulsive.
This is nothing like her.
A true punisher should not only impose ruthless sanctions on evil spirits, but also have enough calmness and judgment to avoid evil traps when faced with strange situations.
These so-called paints were obviously not applied under their noses.
It was painted there from the beginning, but everyone's attention was attracted by the strange and powerful man reading the newspaper, and they were not distracted for a moment.
He not only teased Vivian, but also everyone.
Even though she felt like a mouthful of old blood welled up in her throat, Vivian finally held it back.
Mark spoke: "From the moment I saw this chair, I had no intention of dominating it all by myself. I was thinking that the right side should be reserved for at least one new friend who is pleasing to the eye, and the left side... can be a friend who is not very pleasing to the eye, but
A handy guy."
The 'paint' coated with special spiritual essence is the mark he has reserved for 'that guy'.
Of course, if that person wipes off the paint without showing any dignity, he can also do it to the other person, or force the other person to apply it himself.
Having said this, he looked directly at Vivian: "Miss Punisher! If you insist on sitting down, I agree. Otherwise, the person sitting on it just now would be a corpse. But if you want to sit, you must sit all the way to the end.
It’s not up to you whether you want to leave midway or not!”
"You..." The domineering man who read the newspaper almost shocked Vivian internally. She wanted to refute, but she didn't know what to say.
"As for them..." Mark crossed his fingers and placed them on his lower abdomen, leaning on the back of the chair in a very comfortable posture: "Who agrees with my decision? Who opposes it!?"
His cold and sharp gaze swept across the entire audience, falling on every heroic face.
Mark's eyes were so unscrupulous that he would never cast his gaze on the next person unless he forced the other person to look away.
The crimson wind blew across the platform.
The tragic corpse of the Plague Knight, complete with man and horse, is the best proof of the newspaper man's strength.
No one dared to look at Mark for more than three seconds.
When most people's eyes meet, they immediately dodge away, lower their heads, or smile awkwardly but politely.
The overall situation is decided!
The final choice once again fell to Vivian.
She could save her own face and choose to leave, or she could continue to attack the newspaper man when the others were completely shocked. But it was unknown how many people would join the group this time.
We can only be sure that there will definitely be fewer people willing to die than before.
Vivian bit her lip and chose the third option.
She sat on it again.
What's interesting is that she sat exactly where she was just now, and the paint area on her butt didn't expand even 1 millimeter.
This is her last stubbornness.
Mark and Conrad laughed unkindly.
No matter which world it is, the status gap is so obvious.
There are always some people who can sit stately.
The loser can only stand aside helplessly, looking at the winner with envy, jealousy and hatred, like the humblest servant.
The moment the three of them officially sat on the bench, there was sudden movement in the world.
Bright red lines extended from the shadows in various places on the platform square. They quickly intertwined with each other to form a hemispherical light curtain, separating the three people sitting on the chairs from the five people in the defeated dog group.
The next second, a bright line of fire seemed to flash at the farthest end of the suspended ruins. Before anyone could react, this line of fire was like a fuse of gunpowder, moving from the farthest to the nearest in an instant.
The entire ruined platform suddenly collapsed!
The five people outside the bench let out large and small screams. They each showed their magical powers, either using their strong body skills or using wonderful secret techniques to save their lives in this collapse.
But without exception, they all fell into the dark abyss below along with the collapsed platform. The screams mixed with the rumbling collapse sound were so harsh, stimulating the minds of the three people in the chair.
But right in front of the three people, the mysterious line of fire that completely shattered the platform and seemed to extend infinitely stopped in front of the light shield in front of the chair.
Then, the opera house platform that was shattered in front of the three of them quickly returned to its original appearance in their sight.
It didn't turn into the ruins where they were fighting over the chairs just now, but it turned back into the original newly built state, with the overall shape of the fan-shaped opera house.
Audience chairs wrapped in red velvet appeared one after another under the stage. In the farthest distance, the fan-shaped auditorium on the second floor and the entrance gate of the opera house were clearly visible. To the left and right of the view were three floors spreading diagonally.
VIP rooms, and behind them, various mechanisms were clicking. Apparently, even the stage area, actor's rest area and stage mechanisms at the back were also being restored.
At this moment, even Mark almost exclaimed. He really never thought that the difference in treatment between those who got a chair and those who couldn't get one would be so huge.
Before the three of them could recover from the shock, a man who was obviously a phantom slowly walked onto the edge of the brightly lit stage.
He wore a very simple robe, but the most eye-catching thing was the pair of blood-red wings behind him.
He showed a strange smile to the three of them, and a word of Gulite broke into their spiritual sea in a way of spiritual communication that could never be misunderstood.
His voice was high-pitched and passionate, with a hint of provocation:
"Brave young people! You have made yourselves the protagonists of your destiny with your strength and courage. Then please show yourself to your heart's content on this final phantom stage - what awaits you will be the deep darkness of despair, or...
It is the redemption of hope... [Goddess of Destiny] is very much looking forward to this."
Without giving the three of them any chance to ask questions, the phantom who had guest-starred as the master of ceremonies suddenly disappeared in front of them.