Accompanied by the almost murmuring declaration, the shadows in the entire corridor boiled instantly. Under Lanerwus' linen shirt, the ligated sarcomas shrank and swelled, squirming like snakes.
Looking down at the "Nighthawks" who were taking action under the stairs, the sarcasm at the corner of Lanervus's mouth became even more intense. He suddenly tore off the shirt on his chest, and the bulging tumors were connected with each other, and they were deep in the skin-less area.
The red muscles formed a ferocious hanging figure.
At this moment, judging from his breath alone, he is the true Creator!
He is the true God!
"Crimson!" Faced with this situation, Crestel, who was holding the bone sword tightly, thrust it into the ground without hesitation. The lightless darkness expanded again, spreading at a speed and area far greater than the range radiated by the breath of the true Creator.
wide.
Before this inevitable disaster, he chose to take a gamble and believed in the mysterious man who had the same aura as the holy sword in his hand and had just taken action!
In the absolute realm, smooth silk threads crossed the sky with the sound of breaking through the sky, and quickly intertwined into a network. Dunn, who already had a few swollen tumors on his waist, bent down slightly. The shadow that enveloped him was extremely thin, and he only did part of it.
On the disguised face, the sharp fangs and vertical needle-like pupils reflected a strange light.
He had no reservations and directly released his strongest ability in the "darkness".
"This is a quiet and pure land."
"This is the holy kingdom of heaven."
...
The two "Requiem Masters" holding the sealed objects chanted loudly, and Clément, who was holding the silver mirror, raised his hands high. On the silver mirror with a blurry surface, a rich shadow marked a cross mark domineeringly, a majestic power.
The impact on the mirror image caused the sealed object to tremble.
Standing at a high place, Lanerwus still had his hands open, and his whole body was like a cross. Even though the threads were constantly beating and piercing, even though the quiet singing turned into sharp swords and went into battle in the spiritual realm, he still looked like that contempt.
Everything is arrogant and safe.
Upon seeing this, Crestel, who was clenching his teeth, suddenly exerted force on his arms and slashed out with the pure white bone sword.
The pale light mixed with the aura of destruction was vast and powerful, cutting through all obstacles in its path. It seemed that it would continue to move forward in the next moment and split Lanerwus in half.
"Ah."
Faced with such a desperate situation, the curve of Lan Erwusi's mouth became more and more crazy. The hanging figure still bound on his chest expanded instantly, and the blood-red flesh and shadows intertwined and rose up from the ground, like an upside-down banyan tree.
, covering the sky and the sun, and intertwined.
boom!
In the electric light and flint, pale light collided with illusory figures, sticky threads divided the space, and peaceful poems echoed through the darkness.
Huge energy erupted at the intersection of light and darkness, and pure spirituality erupted in an instant. The huge air wave blew away the four "Nighthawks" who persisted in fighting, and colorless shock waves shattered the wall. This column,
The long staircase collapsed along with the dust all over the sky. Lanerwus, standing in the middle of the huge shadow, fell down to the first floor due to the pull of gravity.
"Clément, Bell!" The bone sword in Crestel's hand was deeply inserted into the ground again, and several spirit bodies rushed out from behind him. Following the master's wishes, they opened their arms and wrapped up those who had been lost in the impact.
The two night-watchers of consciousness.
Amidst the dust in the sky, Crestel Sesima was in ragged clothes, with bright red blood flowing down her cheeks, her blue eyes dyed light red, and her short golden hair was dull and mixed with some red spots.
Bang bang bang bang bang!
Suddenly, a crisp round of applause sounded again. Amid the flying dust and dense darkness, a shirtless Lanerwus walked out with his trademark sarcasm still on his lips.
Crestel, who was kneeling on one knee, kept struggling, and his hands on the sword hilt couldn't help shaking. Even though blood foam continued to pour out of the corners of his mouth, the strong Nighthawk did not stand up again.
Lanerwus, who was still applauding, looked down at him, far away, and bowed deeply provocatively, with a hint of ridicule in his tone.
"Thank you, the great 'Sword of the Goddess', for saving another innocent soul from the true Creator."
After speaking, he stood up straight and retreated step by step into the shadows behind him, but his voice was still clear.
"Actually, I have always wanted to escape from them. These brainless lunatics have been enslaving me and trying to use me as a container."
"But they probably didn't expect that even though the tight surveillance destroyed my escape plans again and again, the last time, the last time I actually met your informant, hahaha, he actually reported my situation to the church, and I
Thank you, really thank you."
"Asshole!" Cresty, who had grown short black hair on his cheeks, was trembling all over. The anger kept attacking his reason, making him pursue the voice that had been lingering in his ears.
Unfortunately, the sound became farther and farther away, but he still found it difficult to get up.
Lanrewus stood on the edge of the half-collapsed brick-red building, with the open sewer entrance behind him. He bowed deeply at the end with a low voice.
"Finally, I wish you good luck, kind sir."
.............
The cold wind was still biting, and on the towering bell tower of East Balam Dockyard, a clown with a happy smile was holding his mask, and the corners of his dark blue clothes were rustling, standing independently under the night sky.
He stared at the small brick-red building with flickering light and shadow in the window not far away, like a sculpture, and never looked away for a second.
In the darkness, he could only rely on this method to judge the course of the battle and try to witness the enemy's final outcome.
At this moment, an unprecedented light flashed, followed by unprecedented darkness.
The street lights near that area went out in an instant without exception!
Bang!
The cane, which was dyed completely black, slipped from his hand. The clown holding the mask staggered back two steps. He could not help but tremble all over and his legs became weak.
Klein was very sure that for a moment just now, an extremely strong aura of the true Creator flashed there!
That was the aura that once shattered half of the Tingen Nighthawks squad!
That was the terrifying aura that Klein could not face directly!
Suddenly, this strange darkness disappeared in an instant, the tranquility of the night returned to reality, and the almost substantial sobs that had been pressing in Klein's throat also disappeared.
Disappeared, the attack hedging just now destroyed the breath of the true creator?
He crouched down tremblingly and picked up the cane that had fallen on the steel platform.
In order to verify the life and death of his enemy, Klein just grasped the cane and stood up eagerly. Looking up, he happened to catch a glimpse of a black dot leaving the nearly half-collapsed building and diving into the ground.
There is no doubt that this is definitely a member of the Aurora Society, most likely Lanerwus!
The smiling clown was so excited that his limbs were stiff and unable to take care of himself, but he still followed his reason and prepared to lower his pendulum for divination.
"Don't worry, he has lost the power of the Hanged Man. Your chance has come."
"Secret"'s peaceful voice suddenly sounded, and a stream of information suddenly appeared in Klein's mind.
In the illusory picture, a shirtless Lanerwus is running. Surrounding him are ditches with sewage, dark and dirty passages, and rusty metal pipes.
This is the sewer, Lanruth is in the sewer now!
"Captain, this is my first step in revenge for you." Klein once again touched the clown mask on his face, his voice was vague and his eyes were blank.
As if he didn't see the high sky ahead without railings, he walked firmly towards the end step by step.
In the night sky, the clown's figure falls from the clock tower.
During the high-speed fall, he still maintained his original posture, making people worried whether he would just fall to the ground.
However, this scene did not happen. He only fell halfway down, and bright flames lit up in the night sky, killing his body.
On the path leading from the bell tower to the distance, brilliant sparks bloomed one after another, drawing a perfect arc when viewed from high altitude.
This is a clown's smile.
............
The collapsed rubble was like a fallen giant, lying quietly on the ground without making any sound.
The small brick-red building that served as the battlefield was dilapidated, and scenes like this were everywhere. The red moon was still obscured by clouds, and shadows continued to dominate the land.
In the shadows further away, in a corner close to the entrance to the sewer, there was a surge of darkness, and Dunn, half of his face stained red with blood, limped out of it, looking miserable.
"If I didn't have the characteristics of a 'hermit', I would probably be buried alive under the ruins." He looked deeply at the other half of the brick building behind him that was still standing firmly on the ground, and then jumped down and jumped in.
In the open sewer entrance.
The battle is not over yet, the murderer with many crimes is still at large, and he must continue to pursue him.
Whether it's the blue butterfly that appears on the Aurora Society's envoy or the possible remaining aura of the true Creator, this will no longer be a reason to stop him.
Dunn Smith, who has been resurrected from the dead, will not back down, and his companions who exist in his extraordinary characteristics will not allow him to back down.
After this adventure, he felt much younger, as if he had returned to his youth again.
In the dream of "Nightmare", the figures of companions still exist.
"Klein, this will be the first step in our revenge."
............
Deep in the maze-like sewer, Lanerwus ran, jumped, and turned flexibly, seeming to be very familiar with everything here.
At some point, he had returned to the appearance that Klein had seen on the wanted poster, but there was still a trace of deep red in his chest, as if the true Creator's influence on him had not yet completely dissipated.
"Unfortunately, those Nighthawks are still too fragile. If the 'Sword of the Goddess' still has the power to resist, I may not even be able to retain the last bit of its influence on me."
Suddenly, Lanerwus, who was slightly in a trance, stopped, his body twisted exaggeratedly, and he turned sideways. Invisible air bullets flew past his cheeks, leaving streaks of blood.
Then, as if he had predicted the future, the muscles in his legs tightened, he jumped back suddenly, and distanced himself.
boom!
The next moment, a metal chain blade came through the air, and the deep flames attached to the sharp blade were hot and billowing, drawing out a charred black patch on the ground.
"It turns out it's you, it turns out it's you!" After a brief silence, the solemn-faced Lanerwus suddenly laughed, and gradually laughed crazily. He pointed at the darkness in front of him with his right hand, trembling.
In the shadow, a dark blue figure stepped forward, the chain blade in his hand blazing with fire.
On his face, the bright oil paint was thick and messy, and a bright red color was extremely conspicuous.