After a while, he hurriedly asked in a low voice: "Then where is 'Origin Castle'?"

Pallez Zarathustra laughed like a sigh and laughed at himself: "Actually, I don't know too much, I just heard some rumors.

"That's not the same as the creation myth you know. According to the rumor, the original creator left nine different things. Some of them are kingdoms, some are cities, some are rivers, some are oceans, and some are keys. 'Origin Castle' is one of them.

"It may not actually be a castle, but some other form, and you may know better than me what it looks like.

"The reason why I'm sure it exists is because when I was promoted to an angel, I sensed it, but I couldn't see it and establish a connection with it.

"My great-grandfather made a guess, saying that the nine things might be related to the 'source quality' recorded on the second 'blasphemy slate'. Unfortunately, at that time, due to various reasons, what He saw was limited and could not decipher' Source quality' related part."

Leonard calmed down quite a bit, leaned back on the back of the sofa, and asked thoughtfully: "Old man, do you suspect that Mr. Fool is the embodiment of 'Essence'?"

Based on what he saw and heard at the Tarot Club and what the old man Pales occasionally told, he already had a certain understanding of some things about the rank of gods.

Pales Zarathustra was silent for a long time before responding: "Maybe..."

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On the night when the curfew was strictly enforced, there were almost no pedestrians on the streets of Backlund, and occasionally a carriage passed by, and the people on board were all people with sufficient status.

After Klein arrived at the agreed house, he was not in a hurry to go in. He half-closed his eyes, raised his right hand, scratched forward, and pulled out another man wearing a black double-breasted coat and half-height silk. Top hat, Sherlock Moriarty holding a gold cane.

This is him when he went out just now, and it is the image in the pores of history.

Because Klein himself was opposite, the image was stiff, like a prop on a stage.

According to several previous experiments, Klein knew that this was the "unique principle of time and consciousness" in occultism. That is to say, at the same point in time, the essence of each person is unique. meeting.

The same is true after the historical pore images of the dead are summoned. Klein suspects that his current level is not enough. In short, other people's projections can only do more mechanical questions and answers and more instinctive battles. "Ancient scholars" don't know. Things, even if they have experienced it personally, they cannot give corresponding answers.

This confirms one of Klein's conjectures, that is, the fragments that "ancient scholars" can see in the fog of history have been understood by him in reality, and he has done some research. Scholars" themselves lit up piece by piece.

Of course, Klein also suspects that if most of the historical fragments of the same event have been lit up, the rest will likely be revealed naturally.

"At least the corresponding ability won't be missing because I don't understand enough. As long as there is an image in the historical pores, the state at that moment will be completely recorded... This is enough..." Klein glanced and could only rely on The historical projection of instinctive actions, the body suddenly disappeared and entered the gray mist.

Since it is not a complete "Ancient Scholar" that the Forgan's dog can live in the historical pores, there is no reason for the real "Ancient Scholar" to do so. The only problem is that there is a time limit. My secret puppet will definitely die, but this is just a different form to accompany the "ancient scholar".

And as Klein's body entered the spot of light in the gray mist, his consciousness suddenly came alive in the historical projection.

Raising his hand and pressing the top hat on his head, Klein, who looked like Sherlock Moriarty, came outside the house. As agreed, he directly took out "w�n n�ng y�o ch�", pressed it against the door, and turned it lightly.

His figure directly appeared in the house, and he took a quick look around under the crimson moonlight.

The sofas, cabinets, high-back chairs, coffee tables and other furniture here are obviously not young. They seem to come from the last century and look quite old.

In the dark environment, Sharon, wearing a gothic court dress and a small soft hat of the same color, suddenly appeared on a high-backed chair.

"Good evening." The "puppet" lady nodded slightly and greeted her.

If she doesn't speak or open her mouth, she is the most standard and most exquisite puppet.

At the same time, at the position of the sofa, Maric in a white shirt and black vest is also outlined.

...Sir, it's already winter, won't you be cold if you wear this? Ah yes, you are a "dead", and a "dead" will not be afraid of the cold... Klein complained a few words in his heart, took off his hat, and walked towards Sharon with light blond hair, blue eyes, and pale face. A salute: "Good evening, Miss Sharron."

He then turned around halfway and said to Maric, "Good evening." JrNovels.com