The "girl" wrapped in a gray and complicated palace skirt had a weird smile on her face. She raised the corners of her skirt slightly with both hands, raised her hands and lowered them, performing a nondescript palace salute.
The man in a white gold-rimmed robe did not change his expression. He continued to strengthen the seal on the spiritual world and space. He put his right hand on his chest and answered the question raised by the "girl" just now.
"I am the follower of my Lord, Roman Ambrosius."
"Great 'Uncertain Mist', if you don't slowly rot in the valley of Honazis and wait for death, why are you interested in becoming a thief?"
The "girl's" expression did not change, she still had a standard smile. She looked Ambrosius up and down, avoided the question, and joked:
"Is it because 'Secret' spent too much effort sealing the "City of Disaster" and even lost himself?"
"How come you bugs hiding in the gaps between time and space all have the faces of 'hunters'?"
As she spoke, she looked around at the irregular marks on the surrounding cave walls, like the marks of knives and axes, and suddenly changed the topic, with a hint of ridicule in her tone:
"Speaking of which, after all, you are just mortals who have stolen the authority of the gods. You are just crudely imitating the behavior of the gods, dreaming of truly taking control of the power and putting on a gorgeous coat to accept the worship of humbler mortals."
Ambrosius looked at the neurotic one-man show of the "girl" opposite him expressionlessly, gradually tightening the space around her and accelerating the cutting of them.
The "girl" at this moment is like a specimen built into a diamond!
But she remained calm, facing the huge cave and talking to herself:
"Solomon, that clown, whose understanding of order and distortion only touches upon the worst."
"In the vast starry sky, I have seen many thieves who wanted to touch the authority of order, but he was the only one who did it so despicably." At this moment, the voice of the "girl" suddenly rose, and the pattern of the gray and complicated palace skirt on her body also followed.
The distortion seems to be integrated with the distortion traces of the surrounding cut space.
"This child-like asymmetrical aesthetic is just as ridiculous as your poor spatial arrangement."
"Although that guy 'Secret' is shameless, he is still unmatched as a liar. You have too much bottom line."
Ambrosius frowned. He was about to adjust the arrangement of the surrounding space and divide it again, but he was surprised to find that he was locked in his own trap!
Immediately, his eyes broke into pieces and bleeded as he looked directly at the witch demigod who had been completely controlled by the "Uncertain Mist".
The essence of this altar is a memory for the Tamara family to summon and solidify the power of the "Uncertain Mist". The performance of the "Uncertain Mist" just now in front of Ambrosius was not an insane complaint. As the "prime"
A part of Him would never have had any mental problems from this!
Everything he did just now was to delay time and take the opportunity to transfer the power he had stored in the bodies of the Tamara family members on the ground!
And the existence in front of us that uses the witch demigod as a container is not the "mist of uncertainty" in the true sense.
She is more like a spiritual suture body that has accepted part of the Uncertain Mist and part of its consciousness!
While Ambrosius tried to imitate "fraud" and throw himself out of the ruins, he closed his eyes tightly and asked carefully:
"You manipulated her to accommodate that planeswalker trait?"
"Uncertain Mist" raised his eyebrows carelessly, and while tightening his control over the space, he played with his hair like a little girl, wrapping it around his fingertips bit by bit, and then bit by bit.
Spread out little by little.
"Actually, my initial target was you, so I had no choice but to choose her as the container."
"Oh, this body is just that of a naive, stupid fool. The only thing she can be praised for is that she is easy to fool."
"It's a pity that you have the aura of Source Castle on you."
"Although I am very interested in the power of 'mystery', I don't want to be put into a lamp like my other self."
"You are indeed very smart. You deliberately avoided communicating with me from the beginning. It was only because of 'bribery' that you distorted your thoughts and answered my questions."
"To be honest, I don't think my 'distortion' is more worth guarding against than your 'fraud'."
"Besides, you really have a bottom line and your moral standards are quite high!"
"Obviously, as long as I kill all the remnants of Tamara, I can eliminate the hidden danger of me quickly accumulating strength."
"You should really learn from your master on this point. Leaving risks to yourself is always the stupidest choice. In this regard, you are far behind the other mysterious angel - the 'sage'."
"How could I not know how many angels He has after having been in contact with Him so many times? Your response is my best key to unlocking the Shadow of Order."
The words of "Uncertain Mist" were deliberately compressed into crazy syllables. These superimposed sounds tore Ambrosius's thoughts, and the invisible words turned into tangible irons, stinging
His soul caused substantial expansion and contraction of his body, and endless fragmented light spots and insect heads made of starlight emerged, which seemed to be about to collapse into a ball of scattered worms in the next moment.
He couldn't help but speed up the "cheating" on the rules and space, completely giving up the blockade of the surroundings, just hoping that he could stay away from the terrifying existence in front of him.
The next second, everything returned to calm. Ambrosius, who should have used "deception" to escape from the ruins, still stayed in place, but the "Uncertain Mist" opposite him disappeared!
He seemed to have noticed something. The moment the "deception" took effect, he distorted the target of the action, took the opportunity to "confuse" the layout of the space, gave up the idea of using space cutting to kill Ambrosius, and left directly.
It should be the remains of the altar of His own home court.
Ambrosius stared blankly at the silent and empty spiral staircase in front of him. He found that the pollution he had contracted by looking directly at the "Uncertain Mist" was gone!
He hurriedly lowered his head and silently recited the honorable name of "Secret":
"A fool who does not belong to this era."
"The great master who is farther than the distance."
"Rooted in the ancient mystical gods."
"I pray for your attention..."
The dazzling, dazzling stars flickered again, rapidly changing their arrangement in front of Ambrosius, who was praying in a low voice.
He is trying to use the corresponding crimson star symbol on Source Castle to divine the whereabouts of the "Uncertain Mist" container.
After a while, Ambrosius suddenly raised his head, his brows furrowed and his expression heavier than ever.
He did divine the information about that container.
Charlotte Tamara Treville, this is her new name, and her next target seems to be Backlund who is rich in the "Judge" path.
But this was the feedback given to Him by Origin Castle, and the Lord did not respond to his request.
Although the Lord has almost stopped answering prayers since he fell into deep sleep, this time, He can clearly feel that the Lord’s honorable name is no longer effective!
Under normal circumstances, even if a god dies or is downgraded, the honorary name will still point to that god. Only when the god itself gives up the honorable name and blocks prayers can the honorary name become invalid.
Ambrosius frowned and "roamed" himself into the depths of the spiritual world. Looking at the seven rays of pure light from above, he couldn't help but wonder:
"'Lord', are you awake?"
............
Klein stood next to the typewriter, carefully watching Fry write yesterday's task report and the corresponding reimbursement application. Only when he saw that all the materials he had used were included in the list did he nod with satisfaction and stand on tiptoe.
His feet quietly left the typewriter, like a big cat that had eaten cheese.
He spent too much energy and spirituality on last night's divination, and fell asleep quickly as soon as he returned to the Nighthawks Lounge. Only now did he have the energy to determine whether he could reimburse the materials.
After saying goodbye to Dunn and Roxanne, Klein left the Blackthorn Security Company. He had made an appointment with Dr. Duster from the lunatic asylum to meet at one o'clock in the afternoon.
"Speaking of the knowledge I gained last night, I can carefully report some of it in the future. This should increase my 'contribution' and help me be promoted to a clown faster."
"We can't forget that the gray mist seems to be alive."
"Tsk, my sequence is still too low now. Even if it really does harm to me one day, I don't have the corresponding countermeasures..."
Klein had already walked to the "Shooting Club" located at 33 Zotland Street. He did not go directly to the nighthawks' exclusive shooting range. Instead, he found a seat in the lobby and took a newspaper from the small table next to it.
, and looked at it leisurely, pretending to wait for someone.
In fact, he was really waiting for someone. It was here that he met Dr. Dast when he wrote to him.
Nearly ten minutes later, Klein heard heavy footsteps approaching him. He put away the newspaper and saw Dr. Dust, who had a rather gentle temperament, already standing in front of the club's front desk.
Klein looked at Daxter, who was paying the fee at the front desk, wearing a black silk top hat, a well-fitting tuxedo, and gold-rimmed eyes on his face.
He put the newspaper back, went to the front desk to pay, and then followed Dast into the small shooting range No. 7.
After making sure there was no one behind him, Klein quietly locked the door, turned to look at Dr. Dust, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, and joked:
"You seem to have a lot of experience with underground joints, Mr. Dust."
As if being stabbed by something, Daxter suddenly turned around and looked around. It wasn't until he used his "audience" ability to confirm that no one was hiding around him that he said slightly reproachfully:
"Officer Moretti, it is not the behavior of a gentleman to deliberately scare people."
This is humor... Klein shrugged, carefully took out a 10-soul note from his wallet, and handed it to the other party, "I just think Roen's life lacks too much humor."
"This is the cost of your operation. We will not let peripheral members bear the cost of the mission."
Seeing Dast stunned, but still accepting the 10-soul note, Klein immediately said seriously:
"Has that 'mentally ill' Hood Organ behaved abnormally recently?"