"'Animal Tamer', what do you need the 'Animal Tamer' formula for?" Emlyn said loudly in response to Klein's expectations, echoing in the church at night.
Seeing Bishop Utravsky, who was explaining the believers' doubts, cast a vague glance at him, he shuddered suddenly, then pulled Klein over and asked in a low voice:
"You are not from the 'Medicine Master' path, why do you want the 'Animal Tamer' formula?"
"You know, I have attended some extraordinary parties." Crane opened the vampire's arm without leaving a trace, and replied with a smile.
Attending a party... Although he is fifty years old, Emlyn, who has been visiting doll shops more than meeting extraordinary people since he was an adult, reflected for a while, then frowned slightly and said unhappily.
:
"At the party you attended, someone wanted to buy the 'Animal Tamer' attribute, so you wanted to take this opportunity to act as a middleman."
"That's true." Klein shrugged, unable to comment.
He looked at Emlyn who was thinking and quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
"No, I won't give it to you." Emlyn looked at Klein seriously and repeated again: "I won't give it to you."
Klein didn't understand what the other party meant, so he frowned and explained:
"I'll pay the regular price."
Emlyn looked at Klein's doubtful eyes, turned his face away, and said firmly:
"Every unexpected 'pharmacist' of the Vampire family may become a despicable and low-level artificial vampire, and the characteristics they most commonly use when promoted to Sequence Seven are the relics of our Vampire family."
Artificial vampire?
Klein looked at Emlyn up and down and curled his lips helplessly.
"Well, I haven't agreed to that 'pharmacist' yet, I just want to see if there is a chance."
Seeing that the hope of the transaction failed before it even showed up, and Emlyn was still immersed in the entanglement of "how to pray to the 'Fool'", Klein simply stopped staying. After saying goodbye for a while, he missed the opportunity to still receive believers.
Bishop Utravsky greeted the tall priest from a distance and quickly walked out of the church.
...
Silver City, under the Round Tower.
The halo of morning light belonging to the "Crown of Glory" restrained this huge circular underground building. In the small cells separated by iron walls, wailing and roaring could be heard endlessly.
Crouching in the corner of his small cell with his knees folded, Derrick stared aimlessly at the light source slipping through the cracks in the iron gate and fence, looking at the brightness that was especially cherished underground, ignoring the flow and growth of time.
He hasn't communicated with anyone for a long time.
Since waking up that day, the elderly prisoner in the next cell has stopped responding, and the guard who came in to deliver meals will not communicate with him. Moreover, underground, in a completely enclosed space, he cannot even record the changes in lightning frequency.
How long has passed, I can only try to practice extraordinary abilities over and over again, pray for the protection of light, and digest the magic potion.
Dang Dang Dang Dang...
The sound of metal colliding with each other became clearer. Derrick, who was blinded, did not notice the changes around him. He knew that the figure making the noise walked outside his cell and blocked the only light source that supported his heart.
It brought back the young man's consciousness.
"Lovia...elder?"
The young "Light Prayer" wiped his eyes and looked at the "Shepherd" elder with silver hair and gray eyes in disbelief, who was even slightly taller than himself.
In the heavily shadowed corridor, an indifferent Lovia looked at the shadow under Derrick that almost blended into the environment. Her foggy gray eyes were rippling, and she was isolated from the invasion of the outside world in a psychedelic state.
Enduring the sudden pain, she closed her eyes.
"Derrick Berg, your quarantine is over. After you register at the top of the round tower, you can go home."
Go home... Derrick, who slowed down his thinking in solitude, tried to understand the meaning of this word, and the light gradually returned to his eyes.
"Elder Lovia, my isolation is over, right?"
Loosing his hands in front of him, the big boy, who was nearly 1.9 meters tall, ran towards the iron gate in disbelief. Lovia, who closed her eyes tightly, answered his question with actions. The closed fence creaked and flashed.
A crack was opened.
But before Derrick's excitement could continue, two "Dawn Knights" in heavy armor quickly caught up at the four corners that he couldn't see just now, guarding both sides of Derrick, and led him towards the road leading to the road.
Upper road.
The big boy who was confused but didn't know what was wrong kept looking back. But under the weak white light, Lovia, who was wearing a deep purple color, still had her eyes locked. It wasn't until Derrick had completely gone away and disappeared that she finally
I voluntarily gave up listening to the nonsense from the true Creator and opened my eyes.
The pale gray eyes were filled with bloodshot eyes, and the increasingly pale "Shepherd" closed the iron door of the empty cell and walked sideways to the next door.
A ball of fire ignited from her palm, and the dancing flames bloomed and spread, illuminating the darkness ahead and penetrating the fence and shadows.
The completely stiff old corpse was leaning against the iron wall. The eyes on the head split from the center were wide open. The light blue that had lost its luster was as cold as the steel behind it. It was forever frozen in the moment before the alternation of reason and madness. It seemed that it was not even possible.
The souls that should be affected by the curse were also quietly stolen.
Outside the fence, Lovia, who was stroking her belly with her palm, watched all this in silence, her gray eyes clearing the fog for the first time, clear but solemn.
...
"There is nothing wrong with your condition and you can leave."
The voice of the "psychoanalyst" responsible for checking his condition still echoed in his ears. Derrick hurriedly crossed the street, passed through the neighboring houses that were particularly empty and had closed doors and windows, and rushed back to his home.
Squeak.
The highly exaggerated wooden door was gently pushed open. Derrick, who had attracted sunlight in advance, raised his right hand high. The warm sunlight quickly illuminated the entire living room, driving away monsters that might have been hiding in the darkness due to a long-term lack of light.
He raised his right hand and gently touched the wooden cabinet with a thin layer of dust. After confirming that the touch was real and not his imagination, he breathed a sigh of relief and lit the remaining half candle.
, cleaned up the hygiene at home.
After doing all this, Derrick, who was already a little tired, suddenly staggered and almost fell down.
But in the next second, the big boy's skills suddenly became flexible. He stabilized his body with quick movements, pinched the socket of his right eye with sweaty fingers, and looked at a plain place in his home as if unintentionally.
Unremarkable shadow.
A strange smile appeared from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes, which were crowded with brightness and banter, slowly glanced around, as if there was another person observing the nearby environment.
He expertly gathered the basic materials for the ceremony from the drawers and corners where Derrick usually hid his belongings. The silver dagger flew up and down between his fingers, and with a few haste, he carved "
A strange symbol formed by a mixture of "childless eyes" and "twisted thread".
As the last stroke fell, a powerful distortion came from nowhere and separated the room. An invisible wall lay between Derrick and the empty space behind him. The shadow that he had been looking at surged up and hid in it.
The "hermit monk" is like an insect trapped in amber, struggling crazily, stirring up the boiling shadows around him, trying his best to shout something with a face full of traces of time, but he is trapped under this inexplicable restraint.
It can only fall into silence.
The candle symbolizing the direction of the ceremony was placed in the center. Derrick pinched his eye sockets from time to time to admire his masterpiece. His wrist was close to the ritual track. The silver dagger gently scratched the skin, and the extraordinarily bright red blood was drawn out of thin air under the influence of the ceremony.
It rose up and condensed into a thin stream, following the direction of the ritual, all flowing towards the foot of the candle in the center of the ceremony.
The crimson liquid was filled with patterns and symbols. As Derrick, or Amon parasitic in Derrick's body, chanted in a cadence, the flame at the top of the candle suddenly expanded, and a crimson wave danced in the flame, majestic.
The spirituality comes to reality from a higher place, and the abstract illusion replaces the original scenery in the living room.
"The 'fool' who does not belong to this era."
"The great master who is farther than the distance."
"Rooted in the ancient mystical gods."
Every time a line of honorary name is spoken, the frightening red color on the ground becomes redder. Until the end of the last syllable, the strange symbols engraved on the body of the candle burst out with a huge amount of light, swallowing up Qianxin and kneeling down.
Derrick in front.
Above the gray mist, the almost stationary gray mist suddenly boiled. The "Mystery" who was at the top looked at the ripples in the middle of the long table with doubts, and immediately gathered the scattered mythical creatures in a state of being as if they were facing a formidable enemy.
Who "visited" Origin Castle at this time?
Zaratul or another attempt by the "Fallen Mother Goddess" to use Bethel?
Could it be the uniqueness on the top of the mountain... Several of the most likely crises were quickly eliminated by "Mystery". She stretched out her index finger and took the initiative to touch the ripples that were constantly shrinking and spreading. Although it was tight, she still said
There was a hint of gloominess on his calm face.
"Amon."
The majestic gray mist and the mighty spiritual world projection instantly suppressed the ritual constructed with the help of the connection between Derrick and Origin Castle.
In Derrick's house in the Silver City, Amon, who was parasitic in Derrick's body, allowed himself to be swallowed up by the dream that came with the falling black veil, and curiously looked at everything strange.
Looking at the scene similar to the "Secret" memory, I was amazed.
"It's really your style. This is the 'dream' stolen from the night."
A piece of extremely deep black peeled off from the night sky that formed the dream sky, slowly landed in front of Amon, rotated and twisted, and turned into a figure in a robe with the hood pulled high.
"This is a 'record'."
A touch of silver floated under the hood where the face should have been, and a "mysterious" flat voice came from it.
"It's almost the same. It's not our own ability anyway." Amon waved his hand nonchalantly, looking at the shadow robe in front of him with interest, and adjusted the monocle in his eye socket.
"I always thought you were really out of control, but I didn't expect that this was just another layer of your disguise."
"Ha, it's indeed interesting. If I hadn't sensed a strange movement from Origin Castle before and someone was using my authority, I'm afraid I would have continued to be deceived by you, just like what my father did at that time."
Hearing the faint complaint in Amon's words, "Secret" shook his head slightly and asked instead.
"Did you also disclose your plans before committing the fraud to avoid making others worry?"
"Of course not." Amon kept smiling.
She turned her head and looked at the colorful neon lights in the distance, trying to decipher the text on the billboard.
"Enough secrecy itself is an important prerequisite for the establishment of fraud, and why should I consider whether others will be worried?"
"Secret" stared at the crystal glasses on Amon's right eye, feeling a little confused for a moment. She thought about it from the perspective of a born mythical creature:
"Maybe because you care?"
"Care..." Amon repeated the word subconsciously and looked away.
She re-examined the appearance of "Mystery" in the dream, and the flowing brilliance flashed through the monocle. In front of the "God of Mystery" who had established a notorious reputation in the Second Age, she analyzed her unscrupulously.
Current state.
Unfortunately, the mere analysis of Sequence Four could not reveal the reality behind the disguise, and the frustrated Amon spread his hands in frustration.
"Actually, I've been very curious recently, if you didn't lose control, how could little Zaratul steal a copy of the 'Sequence One' trait from you."
"She took advantage of the spiritual imprint left by the 'Lord of Mysteries' on the characteristics of every angel of the corresponding path in Source Castle."
"By allowing her to recover to a certain extent on her own body, she deceived me who was indeed out of control at the time." "Secret" answered mechanically.
"Were you really out of control at that time?"
Amon repeated this sentence in a long tone, looking at "Secret" in a funny way, with sarcasm on his lips.
"I have yet to hear of a mythical creature that has recovered from a loss of control without outside help."
"As far as I know, neither the Hanged Man nor the Night, nor even the Paranoid, should have the ability to approach a King of Angels who has a high degree of willpower recovery, let alone help you get out of control.
"
She looked directly at the silver-white mask floating out of thin air under the hood, and her black eyes, which were full of teasing, turned rare and serious.
"What's wrong with you? You have to deliberately throw away a trait to suppress your instinct to aggregate?"
"Secret" shook his head slightly, as if he didn't notice Amon's seriousness, and talked about other topics.
"Do you remember the game I told you about before?"
"In my time, my motherland, there was a chess game called Go."
The hollows on the silver-white mask turned toward Amon, and the two black hollows had the same purpose as the completely black eyes of "Mysterious".
"Go was once regarded as a game for wise men because it contains too many changes and trade-offs. Compared with direct attacks, deliberately giving up something is an important way to win in Go."
"Perhaps this is also the reason why the state of the ancient gods of the Second Age can be relatively stable."
Amon laughed again and sighed frivolously.
"Voluntarily giving up, you're not talking about those guys who voluntarily gave up on their so-called humanity, are you?"
The silver mask with no facial features stared at her silently. Amon looked at the two holes, and Ben's bright smile froze at the corner of his mouth.
The "mysterious" inorganic voice floated out of the robe again, and the hollow of the silver-white mask was filled with dazzling gilding.
"From the perspective of a born mythical creature, do you see my humanity?"