Countless monsters attacked Boluogo one after another like a school of fish, with severed limbs and internal organs flying everywhere. Sometimes Boluogo didn't even swing his sword, but just raised his body to bite, and these monsters would rush towards him.
On his own sword, he cuts himself into pieces.
The corpses piled up into mountains, and the blood kept flowing in the gaps, and even gathered into streams, pouring into the large library along the cracks in the door. Thousands of blood basins opened their mouths, emitting mixed sounds like ocean waves.
The roar was like a roar, and the noise piled up layer by layer, almost tearing Boluogo's eardrums.
But Boluogo couldn't feel the pain. His whole body was dominated by the power of rage, and his blood also burned. This is a skill among hunters called boiling blood. Now through the power of narrative, it is blessed.
On Boluogo's body.
This power penetrated into the bone marrow, just like the three trials that Bologe experienced, and it seemed to strengthen Bologe's strength from all aspects.
He is like a rock that separates the sea water, standing at the forefront of the monster tide. Behind Boluogo is Palmer. Like a sorting machine, he kills the monsters that cross Boluogo. Then comes Aimu, who
Responsible for guarding the final gap to prevent monsters from rushing into the big library.
It stands to reason that the devil cannot directly interfere with the material world, but through the power of broken reality, Asmodeus breaks this restriction. This is a wrestling match between mortals and devils. Asmodeus's dark power is summoning a large number of monsters, and
Endowed with great power, they are as numerous as a swarm of ants in the sea of sand.
At this moment, not only did the monsters rush into Daisy Castle, but even the outside of Daisy Castle was filled with many undulating monsters, besieging this lonely castle.
They are as numerous as the sea of sand, and the Daisy Castle is like a lonely boat on the sea of death, accompanied by the rising waves, waiting for the waves of destruction to break the boat.
For a moment, Boluoge felt a sense of powerlessness, but soon this powerlessness was replaced by the desire to kill.
Boluogo's way of thinking is very simple. Worrying can't solve anything. If he keeps slashing, he might be able to kill all these monsters.
It might take months, it might take years, but as long as you keep at it, Bologna can do it.
The resentful bite cut open the body of another monster smoothly. Boluogo noticed a strange sound in the roar of the mountain and the tsunami. The next moment, thick vines were like whips, whipping towards Boluogo quickly.
Ge.
Retreating vigorously, Boluoge also swung his sword and cut off some of the vines, while other vines struck the monsters, causing their bodies to fall apart.
“Is this also the power of narrative?”
Boluogo shouted loudly, he had long felt that something was wrong with these vines, and now they were much more threatening, with each whipping bringing up large swaths of blood.
"Yes!" Palmer responded, "If you read the book carefully, this evil power will affect all living things, even humans will be distorted."
"Have it!"
Boluogo carried half of a monster's body and blocked another whipping. In his hands, the body was quickly broken into large pieces of minced meat.
"Of course!" Palmer threw the storm feather, and the flying knife quickly spun in the darkness, cutting off dozens of vines, "You fake fan!"
"I never consider myself a fan," Borrowgo corrected, "I'm just a casual reader."
The piles of corpses were piled up in front of several people, as if they were standing in a trench fighting. Bologg stepped on the corpses to stand higher. He suddenly felt a sense of relief. In the long torture of the past ten years, if there was Parr
It should be easier if you keep talking to yourself about the bad things.
Boluogo can endure loneliness, but he prefers to have someone by his side unless necessary.
The situation is a bit bad. Monsters are constantly coming, causing great pressure. But the good news is that the current terrain is favorable to Boluogo and others. They only need to hold on to this door, and they don't have to hold on to it all the time.
Just wait for Irwin to end this.
Irvin…Irvin Fleischer.
The familiar face appeared in Boluogo's mind. Sometimes Boluogo thought that if thirty-three years ago, Irwin had encountered the Bureau of Order instead of the Happy Garden, he would have become an excellent person.
As a field clerk, all the necessary good qualities are shown in this mortal, and he even does better.
This guy might be able to become a power bearer or even a defender. With his devilish rationality, he might even become the leader of an action group.
But this is just a thought. The current reality cannot be disputed. What's more, Boluogo is very worried about Irwin.
Boluogo knew that Irwin's wish was very simple. He just wanted to see that woman again. In the Happy Garden, Asmode ruthlessly laughed at Irwin's fantasies and crushed all his good things.
Irwin may be frustrated. He has always been a rational and sober person, otherwise he would not have made such a wish, but now, Irwin has found an opportunity again.
Asmodeus used the power of narrative to imprison Irwin, but Irwin also used this power to imprison her.
The devil's arrogance made Asmodeus never look directly at Irwin, and even Irwin's wishes were mercilessly laughed at by her. Asmodeus refused to face Irwin with that beautiful side, but under the power of narrative,
Then Irwin twisted Asmodeus and asked her to use her beautiful side to seduce him.
Regardless, Irwin's wish came true, and then came the final test.
If Irwin gave in to temptation, they would lose, but Irwin survived...
Boluogo didn't know what would happen next. To be honest, after calming down now, he couldn't think of how Irwin could continue to write the story.
So what if Irwin can withstand the temptation? How should he continue to write the story? Now endless monsters surround this place. Although Asmode is limited by the narrative, Irwin cannot imprison her forever. She will escape sooner or later.
of.
Under the wrath of the devil and the invasion of darkness, Boluogo couldn't figure out how Irwin could write a slightly hopeful ending for the story.
Deus ex machina?
Boluogo no longer thinks about these things. Since he has promised Irwin, he should stop thinking about it. Trust is also a very important part in the face of danger.
Irwin proved his nobility to Bologg, and for this reason Bologg was willing to believe in him again.
"Bologo!"
Urgent shouts sounded from behind, and then a slender arm hugged Boluogo's waist, quickly moving Boluogo back a certain distance, and then the narrow claws split open Boluogo's body just now.
At that location, the piled corpses were all cut off.
The sharp claw was embedded in the pile of corpses, and then it slowly pulled away. Under the dim light, Boluogo could see clearly that it was not a sharp claw at all, but a sharp tail blade.
Boluogo murmured and asked, "I remember that there are some elite and powerful beings among the monsters, right?"
"At least you have read this part carefully."
Palmer nodded and helped Boluogo up. The surging monsters around him gradually receded. Several people understood that this was not the end of the offensive, but that another, more terrifying existence was approaching.
A cold breeze blew in from the darkness, carrying the breath of death. The ground began to tremble slightly, and ripples appeared on the pool of blood.
A hideous outline gradually emerged in the darkness, and as it got closer, the blurred outline became clearer, and everyone could clearly see the huge monster that was several meters high and was almost squeezing through the corridor.
.
Borogo has seen this monster. At the end of the novel "Night Hunters", there is a double-page illustration depicting the monster's hateful face.
"How do you feel now?" joked Burlogo. "You're really in the story now."
Palmer shook his head, "I began to recognize the gap between fantasy and reality."
"This is a good start."
Bologgotti faced the enemy with his sword.
…
There was only a door, and outside was a mountain of rocks and a sea of blood. Along the collapsed crack, pieces of flesh and blood rolled down endlessly. The spreading blood drew gradually extending lines on the ground, spanning the large library.
The world inside the door remained as it always was, maintaining a kind of eerie tranquility. Everything was normal, but everything revealed disorder and madness. Irwin slumped in his chair, almost paralyzed by the injury to his abdomen and the continuous tapping of buttons.
All the strength was gone, like a dying person, with his back pressed against the back of the chair, almost inlaid together.
"I like Boluogo's character." Irwin stared at the direction of the blood flow, and could vaguely hear the sound of the sword slashing. "When he believes in something, he will completely believe it. This kind of trust has
Sometimes he even seems a little stupid...but that's how he is, like an arrow leaving the string, he never hesitates."
The woman slowly came to Irvin, she put the novel on the table, then came behind Irvin and put her hands on his shoulders.
"Long time no see, Irwin," the woman said, "your book is great. I really hope I have time to read it all."
"Actually, you've already read it all," Irwin looked forward, "I mean...the other part of you."
The woman chuckled a few times. She moved the papers away from the workbench. They fell to the ground like snowflakes. The woman crossed her legs and sat on the workbench. She leaned on her face and tilted her head to look at Irvin.
.
For Irwin, the last time he saw a woman was thirty-three years ago, but for the woman, it was like yesterday. She was just one of the many incarnations of Asmodeus.
The memories are shared with each other. The only difference is that she and Asmodeus have completely different personalities, just like Cinderella is different from them.
"What are you thinking about right now? Irwin."
"I'm thinking that you are as beautiful as I remember, and time has not affected you at all."
The smile on the woman's face became even brighter. She reached out and touched Irvin's grooved face, "But you have changed into Irvin. Look what time has done to you."
"Time has only changed my appearance," Irwin said. "To this day, I still feel that I am a young man. My body is aging, but my soul and will are still lingering on that train. I put myself
Trapped in memories, I remain young forever."
She held Irwin's blood-stained hand and asked, "What are you still thinking about?"
"What are you still thinking about..."
Irwin was silent for a moment, complaining in distress.
"I'm thinking, thirty-three years ago, if I hadn't boarded that train, maybe none of this would have happened. I might have died in that station, but at least I wouldn't have been troubled by this endless nightmare."
Irwin's voice became relaxed again, filled with emotion.
"I'm glad again, that was the luckiest moment in my life. I boarded that train and the blue jay came back to life.
God, it's amazing, isn't it? It's like a deal with the devil, you get something, but you lose something."
This is Irwin's sincere sigh. Just like his previous theory about talent, without this trip, Irwin might have become a sailor, a worker... whatever.
He didn't know what it felt like to touch the pen and write stories, and he might not devote himself to writing until death. However, his encounter with a woman changed everything, and she led Irwin to embark on a completely different life.
She was the opportunity for Irwin to go astray and the driving force, inspiration and source of romance for all his creations.
She gave birth to the blue jay.
Irwin's eyes sparkled as if he knew all the truths in the world.
"I left just to return, to see you again."
The woman said nothing, but kept her holy smile, just like the stone statue of the Virgin carved by craftsmen.
