"The great master who is farther than the distance."
"Rooted in the ancient mystical gods."
"I pray for your attention..."
In the dim tomb, countless corpses were piled in the corners of the surrounding walls. Tristan knelt on the ground, with a long corridor in front of him that was vaguely illuminated by the breeze.
The gray mist descended from the top of the tomb with low pressure, and the abundant spirituality stained the surrounding walls, and the complex and delicate murals gradually took on color.
The thin mist turned into a hazy veil, slowly covering the surface of the murals. Some of them represented war, or there was a god carrying light standing between heaven and earth, with another being surrounded by mist beside him.
Random pictures.
The thin mist constantly reshaped these seemingly ordinary paintings, but Tristan, who was in the middle of the mist, still had his eyes closed, even though the response he was expecting did not appear, and he showed no sign of getting up.
"The Lord has fallen into a deep sleep. Unless you go to the top of Mount Honakis to see Antigonus now, or break into the main hall, the Lord cannot hear your response."
At the main entrance of the tomb, Edmund Yin Asong, dressed in rich clothes, walked in silently, looked at the figure that was very similar to himself on the wall mural, and slowly stopped.
"But I still hope to get the Lord's blessing." A pious Tristan stood up straight, holding the mist rising in the air with his hands, his eyes blank.
"If everything in this tomb today hadn't been too shocking, I wouldn't have thought about praying for the Lord's blessing."
He looked around at the shimmering murals and couldn't help but sigh.
"With the help of the 'Sage''s own mythical creature state, he can incarnate the special state of information, and the simplified copy is engraved on the wall in the form of a painting."
"Relying on the Lord's scrolls, relying on the projection existing in the fog of history, echoing the copy here, and finally achieving a resurrection effect similar to that of the 'Miracle Master' through loopholes."
Tristan turned to Edmund, who was staring at him closely, and sighed slowly:
"Your Highness, after seeing your insurance, how could I not long for the Lord's care and for another miracle to come?"
Looking at this "mystic mage" who looked young but was actually born more than three hundred years later than himself, Edmund raised a sarcastic smile.
"Now I regret lending you the mausoleum here as a protection for your promotion."
Butterflies covered with dark blue light flew from her feet. Edmund applied more protection to the mausoleum and his tone gradually softened.
"No one is omnipotent. Whether it is the 'Miracle Master' or I who have been resurrected with the help of this tomb, they are essentially pre-arranged with the help of their own authority and some external forces."
"Although during the Pale Catastrophe, the minions of the God of Death always claimed that death is not the end, those 'undead' can also return again and again under the protection of the gods."
"But in fact, they will also die, just like the God of Death who fell in the violent sea at the end..." The flying butterflies left gorgeous traces in the air. Edmund paused for a moment before continuing:
"Just like the Creator died in the rebellion, the three emperors in the War of Four Emperors fell on the spot. Nothing is absolutely eternal."
Looking at Tristan's surprised gaze, Edmund suddenly lowered his voice:
"These words are the Lord's teachings before he fell into deep sleep."
Before the stunned Tristan could react, Edmund suddenly retracted the butterflies flying around him, and his body suddenly collapsed, turning into a torrent of information that rushed around.
In response to the gray fog and scarlet stars, the huge torrent of information turned into a closed ring, rotating at high speed, actively dividing the corresponding area where the mausoleum is located from the spiritual world.
The sound was amplified several times, and the distorted sound echoed in Tristan's ears.
"Get ready to sleep, the Lord never shows mercy to the useless."
The gray fog that had dispersed to the point where it was almost impossible to see clearly was carried by the sudden hunting wind, and crowded towards the faintly illuminated corridor.
Tristan followed the pace of this mist, the light in front of his eyes became more and more real, and the movement in his heart became more and more irrepressible.
Finally, the corridor came to an end.
The thin gray mist did not escape again, but tightly adhered to the surface of the strange cocoon hanging from mid-air.
This dark gray cocoon is suspended in the air and above the water waves. It is essentially an item that stores enough nutrients and "lifespan" to support the demigod's state until the completion of the ceremony three hundred years later.
However, Tristan did not pay attention to this important item to him at this time, but looked at the transparent ice coffin placed next to the cocoon.
Black curly hair fell from her shoulders to her chest. The beautiful Yin Fulin lay in the ice coffin, her pale cheeks still retaining the same trace of blood.
In Tristan's sight, several illusory black threads spread out from the lady's body, connecting the top of the cocoon.
This is the thread of her spiritual body. If Tristan is successfully promoted, this "Crazy Mage" will open his eyes again after more than a thousand years.
The gray-white cocoon opened its coat, and the tentacles with mysterious patterns hidden behind them pulled the "mystic mage" in front of them into it.
Facing a foggy future, Tristan's lips curled up into a smile little by little.