A little while ago, at the Kesa tribe's sacrificial place, the Kesa high priest stood outside the ancient altar and looked at the sky in the direction of Yiyanpu, which had returned to calm.
Dekuta below was still chattering and cursing Likoris who had deceived him before.
Now he is cursing the other party's shamelessness more, not even giving him the instinctive temptation, and no longer putting the lost things first.
"It seems they want to go in too, who else could be there?"
"Are we going to just ignore it? High Priest, please ask the Mother of Desire for help. She will definitely help us."
"Shut up, how could there have been so many accidents if it weren't for you?"
What he wants to say more is, don't ask for unrestrained gods, especially those who have no secret existence of joy, anger, sorrow and joy.
If you can't give enough returns, the price won't be what it is now.
Of course, there is no need to keep talking for the fanatical believers who have almost lost their instincts, even if it is from one's own side.
The aura of destruction gathered and disappeared. For a few moments, he felt palpitations as he carefully sensed it. They were already so far away.
"Just finish what you have to do." After stating his position, the High Priest Kesa turned around and returned to the ancient altar.
Dekuta, who stayed here, removed the darkness in his eyes, turned around and headed towards Iyanpu.
"It's because you are like this that you will never be able to achieve anything, and that you will never be able to escape the shadow of death."
Dekuta whispered a few words about his inner unhappiness. He remembered that the 'lost heart' from before should still be on the west coast, and he should be able to catch up with him through the spiritual world passage.
With him around, I should be much more confident about going to Lake Guadevita. I just become impulsive because of desire, but I'm not stupid.
A fiery red light flashed across the sky and disappeared into the night. Many residents of Lake Guadevita were still frightened and decided to leave the place overnight.
The explorers looking for Death's legacy ship ticket speeded up the search process, and the dark areas were lit up with lights, either scattering in all directions, or heading deeper into the mountains.
Guimarães, who escaped, did not stay far away and returned here with his injured companion Christy Cole.
He thought for a long time about how the people of the Rose School knew the true information of his team, so that they lost two companions in a targeted manner. If someone hadn't helped him, he would have died that night together with Christie.
Christie's eyes were closed tightly on the bed, and the paleness of her skin could not be stopped even by the yellowing and roughness caused by the wind and sun.
At this moment, he missed that old-fashioned companion of the sun path, the warmth that could drive away death.
But after just one encounter, it melted into a ball of dirty yellow liquid, leaving only a few thorns emerging from it and waving around randomly.
The apocalyptic scene that had just ended meant that the support he was waiting for might not arrive in time. In such a high-level battle, officials would not rush to send anyone again until it was clear.
And now the two sides are facing each other across almost an entire continent. It's really funny. On the one hand, they are cooperating, and on the other hand, they are fighting.
He is the representative of Loen, and Christie Cole is the representative of Intis. The two who died belong to each other in half.
A little while ago, he was trapped here and helped Christie, thinking that she was about to sink into the cracks that the lake would never be able to fill.
Unexpectedly, it turned out to be as if nothing had happened in the end, but the chaotic environment told him that they had really died once.
"I'll go there again by myself. You have to rely on yourself during this period."
Having already paid so much, he couldn't face himself if he couldn't take out the goal of this trip from that decaying house.
"You have to be careful about that old druid, he is not as simple as he appears."
A weak voice came, and Christie Cole opened her gray-blue eyes, looked at the ceiling and finished speaking intermittently.
"Who would underestimate a man who can win the ferry feather?"
Disappearing with the sound was the figure who climbed out of the window. Christie Cole, who wanted to ask him to close the window, had no choice but to pull up the gauze curtain and cover herself with a quilt.
The streaking flames finally reached the roof where Hermione was. She no longer deliberately concealed her aura. You could notice her if you got close to here. This way, Likoris no longer had to find such a boring excuse.
"Are you here to get addicted to fighting?"
Georg, whose red hair was parted by the wind, landed steadily in front of Hermione, his attitude changed greatly from before, and he stood there friendly.
Hermione, who was waiting for someone, looked around for a while, but it seemed that no one else came. Could this guy have any special quirks?
"You misunderstood. I'm just here to convey some family information. After all, there is no one more suitable than me here."
He looked at the person lying lazily on the chair, and was affected by the charm naturally emanating from him if he didn't restrain himself. However, it didn't have much effect on him. It was more of a vigilance caused by the difference in strength.
"Then tell me, nine times out of ten it's just going back or something like that. There's nothing new at all." Hermione's words made Georg not know what to say for a while. He would die if he followed someone else's path.
"Yes, the family members hope that you will go back. After all, we are all a family. If you have anything, you can go back and tell us."
"Have all the characteristics of weather warlocks been lost? Otherwise, you wouldn't be what you are now."
Hermione asked directly what she wanted to know, ignoring the polite words, and finally met a senior executive.
She was very confused about how the current family, with its background, could produce an angel. With him around, he would not decline or be replaced.
When Georg was asked about his pain, he had no choice but to squeeze out his first smile when facing Hermione, a wry smile. It was exactly what he expected.
"Yes, this is not a top secret. Both the church and those opponents know about it."
"what is the reason?"
Georg lowered his eyes and thought for a moment before continuing to answer.
"A share belongs to ancestor Frederick. His life and death are unknown after he failed in promotion. We cannot reclaim it.
The other is that of Leo's ancestor, who failed to be promoted in the Battle of Oath-Breaching. Although he recovered the unfused conqueror characteristics, his own were lost.
We suspect that it was secretly taken away by people from the church. Strangely enough, we have never been able to find any traces.
Another copy was stolen by a traitor, and he became one of the founders of the Iron Cross."
At the end of the story, Georg became filled with hatred and clenched his fists unconsciously. There were many objects of hatred.
"It's not surprising that it has become like this. After the rise, it will fall."
Hermione knew the whereabouts of one of them, but she would rather not know anything. Every time she thought of the past, it would be mixed with those memories, making it difficult for her to distinguish, making it even more uncomfortable, like her heart being squeezed tightly.
