Deep Sea Embers - Chapter 172

[Chapter 172 The Crossroads of History]

The figure at the fork in history is very tall, even taller than Judge Fanna, that figure is very thin, as if what is wrapped under the dark long windbreaker is only a piece of dry flesh and blood, he is closed here There was a large umbrella in the room, and the lowered umbrella covered the face of the uninvited guest—but with just one glance, the old priest could see the profane and distorted shadow on the other party’s body.

“The residue of the black sun?” The old man looked at the figure in astonishment, and then roared, “How dare you step into this sacred library!” The next second, a loud

bang broke the tranquility in the archives, and the old man The priest has already pulled out the large-caliber revolver at his waist, and the blessed bullets are surrounded by flames and roars. However, perhaps because the old man’s limbs are too slow, the figure has already moved before the gunshot—the hem of his clothes suddenly Two phantoms jumped out, the first phantom directly blocked the bullet in the air, and the other phantom instantly crossed a distance of ten meters and hit the old priest on the shoulder.

There was a piercing sound of metal rubbing, and the old priest’s body flew out horizontally and hit a nearby bookshelf. The huge bookshelf shook suddenly, and countless classics and files fell down.

The weird black figure holding the umbrella stepped forward and walked towards the direction where the old priest landed, a low and chaotic murmur came from his body, the sound sounded like dirty flesh and blood churning in a boiling pot.

However, in the next second, a roar suddenly came from the pile of collapsed books and books, and then the figure of the old priest jumped out of it—a sharp steel sword appeared in his hand at some point. With a sharp sound of chopping the sky, he swiftly slashed at the figure that invaded the archives.

The intruder stopped suddenly, and the black umbrella was slightly tilted to block the sharp blow. A series of sparks burst out between the steel sword and the umbrella ribs, and then the old priest turned over and fell to the ground, and the long sword turned in a circle without stopping. Arc, and slashed towards the side of the intruder from another direction!

The long sword swirled, metal and iron sang, and the old man’s mechanical limbs let out a deep and hoarse roar. The storm swordsmanship that had been honed for decades showed its power again after many years of silence. The blasphemous enemy is splashed like a sea wave, and between the arcs drawn by the long sword, layers of illusory waves are faintly visible. These illusory waves are becoming more and more realistic, more and more The heavier it is, the more impact and power it has gradually shown like a real ocean wave!

The power of the Storm Goddess is filled in the continuous arc cuts, and the heavy pressure of the waves is poured into the specially forged steel sword. Each sword cut is accompanied by a salty sea breeze, causing the surrounding air and ground to tremble slightly.

The black umbrella in the intruder’s hand was extremely hard, and it remained unmoved after more than a dozen slashes, but the figure itself was constantly retreating, retreating to the edge of the nearby bookshelf little by little under the impact of successive superimposed waves, feeling a little irritable The low growls and whispers came from his body, full of demagogic power.

But the old priest has already blocked all unnecessary perceptions, completely ignoring the noise made by the intruder – he knows that his attack must not stop, what the storm sword technique needs is this continuous pressure, like the waves cannot stop halfway , and these “residues” split from the Son of the Sun all have a power that cannot be underestimated. Once the suppression on one’s side is interrupted, the opponent will break away from the fight in the next second.

At the same time, the old priest was also full of doubts—how did this blasphemous dross infiltrate the archives? This church is filled with the power of the Goddess, with countless mechanisms for protection, and more than a dozen layers of guard posts from the inside to the outside. Even if the son of the sun comes, he will be blocked. How could he fail to find a “residue” intrusion?

Could it be… Isn’t this residue a church that entered through the normal space-time structure?

At this moment, a sharp sound of piercing the air suddenly sounded, and the muscles of the old priest’s whole body tensed instantly. The experienced warrior immediately realized that the long sword in his hand did not stop, but slightly adjusted an angle, ready to meet Sneak attack on intruders.

Severe pain came from under the ribs.

The continuous sword light stopped, and the old priest looked at the tentacle wrist that penetrated his body in astonishment, watching the blood gradually fall from the edge of the ragged clothes, the brass prosthetic limb exuded scalding heat, and was severely worn and rusted The gears creaked to a halt with the last noise.

Another second passed before the old priest realized what had happened—he was old.

He and these gears on him are old.

Accompanied by a disgusting sound, the ugly tentacles shrank back into the intruder’s clothes little by little. This inhuman thing slowly approached the old man who was supporting his body with a long sword and tried not to fall down. The umbrella reveals a “head” that is constantly expanding and shrinking, like a blooming fleshy flower, and a hoarse voice comes from its “stamen”.

It was a barely recognizable lingua franca:

“Go and tell your god, this ugly era is over, and the sun will rise from history…” “

History…” The old priest’s body trembled, he hadn’t fallen yet, But he was no longer able to raise his sword, and suddenly, he reacted, “You polluted history?!”

The intruder seemed to laugh, even though it was just a blooming flower of flesh and blood, its trembling “petals” and chaos There still seemed to be a hint of a smile in his teeth: “On the day when the fire ignited, everyone’s wishes were fulfilled.” The

old priest lowered his head slowly, and the vitality quickly faded from his aging body. It seems that he finally gave up the struggle in the world, and began to calmly wait for the final moment to come.

The intruder seemed quite bored with this result, and it put up its umbrella again, ready to leave.

However, in the next second, the roar of metal friction suddenly sounded, and the noise of gear rotation and oil pump pressurization came from the mechanical prosthesis that had completely stopped. The intruder turned around in shock, only to see a sword light attacking Come.

“Please witness!”

The old priest let out a roar, and the steel sword slashed at the intruder’s body without any hesitation. This time, without the obstruction of the black umbrella, without the interference of the tentacles, the blade pouring all its strength was almost like tearing a rag. Straight across the body of the enemy.

The intruder was split by a sword in astonishment, and the two bodies fell to the ground.

However, in the next second, the two severed bodies suddenly made disgusting sounds of flesh and blood wriggling, and countless tiny granulation tentacles spread out from the inside, and began to move closer to each other and reassemble.

The intruder reshaped itself bit by bit, and a low growl full of anger came from its body.

The old priest had already lowered the point of his sword, and his body slowly fell to the ground. With his cloudy eyes, he watched the intruder stand up again, with a relieved smile on his face.

He knew that even with his last strength, it was impossible to kill this monster, even if it was residue, it was also the residue of the Son of the Sun, far from being able to contend with a dying and aging guardian with a steel sword, but at least, he was On his deathbed, he proved his allegiance to the goddess.

The storm has been witnessed and it is time to end.

The intruder stood up again, and in anger, tentacles full of pollution power spread out from his body, and sharp teeth clustered on the edges of the tentacles.

And in the sight of the old priest, he saw a fire ignited behind the intruder, a fire ignited in the archives, and the entire church was burning in the fire.

The icon of the goddess collapsed in the distance.

A Purand that was completely burned by the flames is emerging in his vision, and a branch of history that “shards of the sun have successfully descended and the defenders of Purand have been wiped out” appears in his eyes.

In this way, the old man’s consciousness gradually sank in this branch of history generated by pollution, but suddenly, he saw something else from the corner of his eye.

A cluster of dark green flames is spreading vaguely in the raging fire field, along the gap between light and shadow, along the phantom in the rising flames, the dark green flames split and flow everywhere.

Behind a collapsed bookshelf nearby, a cluster of dark green flames seemed to suddenly “smell” something, and rushed over suddenly, like a hunting dog that had found its prey, pounced on the intruder who was about to deliver the final blow.

The old priest looked at all this in confusion. His consciousness was already floating between reality and illusion. He could hardly tell whether what he was seeing was reality or an illusion. He saw that the intruder was suddenly surrounded by green flames, containing the sun However, the body of the child’s power melted as quickly as wax, and he heard the scream of the other party’s dying echoed throughout the archives, filled with unbelievable madness and panic.

Then, everything quiets down.

The sea of fire receded, and the polluted history temporarily returned to the depths of the veil. This archive located between the two branches of history fell into dead silence, no one visited, no one came.

Only an old man who died in battle with a sword lay quietly on the ground, his half-closed eyes looked into the distance, one eye reflected the safe and surviving Prand, and the other eye reflected the historical branch of the sun’s death. .

And he wasn’t one of them—he didn’t die in the fire, he didn’t survive it.

Cold blood flowed out from under the old priest’s body, as if controlled by a powerful will, the blood flowed quietly on the ground, condensed into a series of footprints, slowly extending to the administrator’s control not far away Taiwan…

(End of this chapter)