In the closed room, Mr. A, whose "demonic" characteristics gradually appeared on the surface of his body, stared eerily at Backlund, who was forced into a corner by himself. On his left hand, a ball of deep red and pitch black flames slowly appeared. combustion.
"Sure enough, 'Shepherd'." Backlund gritted his teeth, having concluded that he would not be able to wait for support in a short time. He slightly arched his body and folded his hands in front of him. The scorching waves of fire continued to surge, holding him tightly. Wrapped in raging fire.
Even for the "Shepherd" who is known for his frontal combat, it is not easy to directly break the barrier built by the "Conspirator" with the help of advanced spells.
The broadsword in the hands of the "demon" Mr. A took shape again, and struck the flame barrier in front of him with a more violent impact like a battering ram.
Although I don’t know how he sneaked in, even if he can kill me, he needs to leave here as soon as possible, otherwise the demigods of MI9 will never let him live... He will definitely hold back. ...Becklund, who was born in a noble family and has the support of a marshal, is very good at considering the overall situation, which is why he can play the role of "conspirator" so well.
In an instant, the flames that enveloped his whole body expanded again, and the weightless flames intertwined with each other, tightly intersecting in a way that violated the rules of physics, and together they formed an absolutely sealed high wall, leading straight into the room. roof.
The master who created all this, Backlund, who was hiding inside, was relatively relaxed at this time. He lowered his folded hands in front of him and touched an item in his trouser pocket.
The perspective changes, and illusory threads grow from the lives of spiritual beings. It is extremely clear to Beckland's eyes at this time.
Boom, boom, boom!
Outside the barrier, the frequency of chopping with the heavy broadsword gradually became faster, and even the flame barrier that was forcibly gathered by relying on the power of the talisman showed obvious and clear cracks at this moment.
However, that's it...Becklund, who had touched the thread of the spirit body, suddenly turned his face and waved his arms fiercely with a grin. The high wall of flames in front of him suddenly collapsed, and a stream of fire was gathered into a gun. The flames rushed forward, shooting like sharp swords.
When the thread of the spirit body is manipulated, even the "Shepherd" whose body is transformed into a "demon" cannot withstand the attack that contains the power of a demigod.
The scorching flames from the "War Bishop" will burn into all enemies!
boom!
The spear, which is like fine gauze as a whole, is as hard as iron under the blessing of spirituality. The scorching spear tip mercilessly pierces the armor made of shadows, making a tinkling sound, making the sound of steel.
In the thick, choking smoke, a tall and burly black knight stood resolutely, with a transparent and blurred ancient book floating in front of him.
The filth belonging to the "devil" has been swept away here. The evil and sacred black knight ruthlessly inspected the only enemy in the room. His scarlet eyes under the dark mask were extremely penetrating, like the purest glass, indifferently caring for Backlund's humble eyes. soul.
"black Knight"!
Backlund, who had just exhausted all the power in the spell, couldn't help but take a step back, his calves covered by luxurious trousers trembling slightly.
Impossible, it is impossible for the demigods of the Aurora Society to come here. What is going on... The vain and frivolous Backlund looked desperately at the oppressive knight in front of him, and the flames on his hands gradually extinguished. .
"I come, I look at the room, and I record."
The belated ethereal voice whispered softly, and the ancient book reacted again. With the gradually boiling shadow, the "Black Knight" who was originally just stagnant in place suddenly took action.
The two-meter-three-four-meter-old little giant took a long stride, raised his straight and heavy sword with both hands, and slashed downwards.
"No, no, no!" The demigod aura that suddenly hit him just now and the disadvantage of losing his trump card first briefly took away his sanity. Backlund suddenly struggled desperately, and with the final roar, clusters of or
Illusive or real flames rose from under the surface of his skin, almost turning him into a burning man.
He raised his hands in desperation and blocked it in front of him. The rising rationality in his mind quickly passed away, and there was a strange sound of crazy ravings coming from nowhere, which seemed extremely far away and yet very close at hand.
"Sauron, Einhorn, Medici, Tudor, Salinger, za..."
boom!
In the blink of an eye, before the straight sword in the hand of the "Black Knight" slashed down, the ambassador, who had reached the end of his strength, suddenly exploded and took the initiative to face the dark and gloomy sword blade, which seemed to have never existed.
The endless curse devoured the heat of the flames, gradually revealing the rotting flesh and blood of Backlund that had not yet been completely transformed.
Compressed to the point of being almost solid, the extremely rich shadow is like being cut on a piece of soft butter. Dirty blood and orange-red sparks are flying everywhere. A shrill voice screams helplessly. It seems that even the last soul is easily shadowed.
Cut open and corroded.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The aura belonging to the demigod quickly passed away from Mr. A, and his figure shrank to its previous size again. Only a thin layer of shadow lingered, as if he was fighting against something.
Seeing the fireballs and filthy blood flowing from the corpse before Beckron died, the solid load-bearing wall collapsed under the impact of the dissolution of filth and the explosion. Mr. A, who had completed the task, took the initiative to lift up without mercy.
hands.
The transparent and blurry ancient book reappeared, the illusory pages flipped, and there was another ethereal sound. The fallen beloved angel disappeared silently into the rumbling room along with a burst of starlight.
Viewed from above, a room on the second floor of the Intis Embassy is slowly collapsing as brightly as gold.
............
Underground in Backlund, in a hall somewhere.
The hazy figure with a dilapidated figure leisurely looked at the exquisite statue of the god that had stood in the secret room for thousands of years. The emotions hidden in the red eyes were slightly invisible.
There is something missing on his left chest, replaced by a huge jet black crystal, with three phantoms vaguely intertwined and rotating inside.
Tick tick tick, this underground hall forgotten in the corner of history is constantly dripping turbid water from the ceiling, leaving bit by bit along the anti-human patterns on the ground, converging on a pool of water that gathered in the center from unknown time.
middle.
Medici, who had just sent away a disappointed guest, felt unprecedentedly tired at this moment, a familiar, nostalgic tiredness that did not belong to an evil spirit.
He sat back on his seat, looked at the equally unlucky "companions" on both sides of him, and couldn't help but feel a sense of joy.
Although he has lost his uniqueness, this former king of angels seems to be able to influence extraordinary people on the same path again after experiencing adventure.
There was a sharp arc at the corner of Medici's mouth, and Medici's sight seemed to penetrate the deep land and the stacked houses, and landed on the moving golden villa.
He admired the farce there and whispered softly.
"I hope you like my gift, ambitious 'conspirator'."
............
The clouds were thick, crimson and pale, and shadows stained with filthy aura lurked in the darkness, moving forward quickly.
Mr. A, who had just escaped through "travel", was now running madly on the streets of Queens. The pain on his body, which was like being tortured, tortured his soul, constantly driving him to hurry up, and hurrying up, forcing him to rush to the destination as soon as possible.
The temporary residence of the angel who came with him.
The shadow hidden under the streetlight suddenly turned sharply, as if it had grown limbs, and the viscous fluid climbed up the wall, trying its best to slip into the gap of a closed window.
thump!
Mr. A, who had exited the shadow transformation, but still had a large number of strong shadows on his body, was crawling and struggling on the ground, his pale lips chanting the name of the true Creator over and over again.
"Mr. Medici's pollution?" Edmund, who had just escaped from Augustus' search, stood up slowly. His eyes were instantly dyed deep purple, and silvery white and golden light slowly moved in his eyes. "Peeping
The Eye of Secret easily determined the source of the pollution.
If it were normal, Mr. A would definitely cry and kiss the ground when he heard that he had come into contact with the aura of the war angel, praising the true Creator.
But at this time, the severe pain from his soul had caused him to lose most of his thinking ability, and he could only use his remaining reason to continuously praise his only Lord.
Edmund looked at his helpless and painful look, frowning slightly, and with a wave of his lowered left hand, brass spiders crawled out from under his robe, and quickly climbed up to where Mr. A lay trembling.
body of.
The brass creation was attached to his body, and the small mouthparts at the bottom opened, and streams of gunpowder smoke were sucked out, swallowed by the brass spider itself, and decomposed ruthlessly.
After about a few seconds, these familiar-like beings suddenly disintegrated and turned into tiny particles of light. Mr. A on the ground regained his ability to move and got up shakily.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness Edmund, I have already eradicated the Intis ambassador, but he lost control in the end. The pollution penetrated the simulated 'Black Knight' armor and contaminated me." Mr. A recounted with clear logic.
He was reflecting on his own experiences, but the twitching muscles on his face from time to time still showed that he was in a worrying state and continued to cultivate.
Edmund, who had roughly made a guess through his "Peeping Eyes", nodded lightly and immediately walked back to the easy chair where he had just been sitting, his movements lazily.
"You have done well. Even if the favored one of the Lord does not provide reward, I will compensate you personally."
Mr. A, who was a little nervous, was suddenly startled. He immediately folded his hands in front of his chest and bowed seriously. After slowly straightening his body, he collapsed into a pool of shadow without warning and left the place quickly.
Edmund, who was taking off his robe, was staring at the wall of the room. His "peeping eyes" that had not yet been closed were staring blankly at a non-existent viewpoint, and his thoughts were confused.