Chapter: 340
Klein was interested in extending his spirituality, and saw the young man who spoke Giant's language again, and saw him kneeling in front of a pure crystal ball.
The boy was still wearing a black tights that were different from the styles of other countries in the Northern Continent. His appearance was blurred and distorted, and only his brown hair was faintly visible.
He knelt there, praying continuously in an extremely painful tone.
Klein listened attentively, and barely understood what the other party was saying by relying on the giant language he had finally learned: "Great god, please turn your attention to this place that you have abandoned."
"Great god, please let us people of darkness get rid of the curse of fate."
"I am willing to dedicate my life to you, to please you with my blood."
...
Abandoned places... People of darkness... Great gods... Klein meditated on these key words, and suddenly remembered a place mentioned by "The Hanged Man": "Land Abandoned by God!"
It was also mentioned in Roselle's diary! He also sent a fleet to search, but found nothing... Klein narrowed his eyes slightly, not sure if his guess was correct.
He tapped the edge of the long bronze table with his fingers, and after three taps, he made up his mind, stretched out his right hand, and touched the imaginary crimson star.
The crimson ball burst out immediately, and the light flowed like water.
City of Silver, Mortuary Hall.
Derrick stood in front of the steps, looking forward with red eyes, looking at his parents lying in two coffins.
There was a simple silver straight sword stuck on the stone slab in front of him, and the straight sword shook slightly amidst the thunder that shook the house from time to time.
The Bergers inside the coffin hadn't really died yet. They struggled to keep their eyes open, panting weakly and sometimes violently, but in the eyes of some people, their lives were irrepressibly bleak and irreversibly bleak.
"Derrick, let's do it!" An old man wearing a black robe and holding a hard cane looked at the young man with a distorted face, and said in a deep voice.
"No, no, no!" The brown-haired Derrick shook his head continuously, taking a step back every time he uttered a word, and at the end, he screamed like his heart was being torn apart and his lungs were being ripped apart.
Boom!
The old man swung his cane and said, "Do you want the whole city to be buried for your parents?"
"You should be very clear that we are the people of darkness abandoned by the gods, and we can only live in this place full of curses. All the dead will become terrifying evil spirits. No matter what method is used, it is difficult to reverse, except, except People of the same blood will end their lives with their own hands!"
"Why? Why?" Derrick asked, shaking his head in bewilderment and despair, "Why are the people of our City of Silver destined to kill their fathers and mothers right from birth..."
The old man closed his eyes, as if recalling what he had experienced in the past: "...This is our fate, this is our curse, this is God's will..."
"Draw your sword, Derrick, this is a respect for your parents."
"After that, when you calm down, you can try to become a blood warrior."
Berg in the coffin wanted to speak, but after heaving his chest a few times, he could only make a loud noise.
Derrick took a difficult step, returned to the side of the silver straight sword, and stretched out his right hand tremblingly.
The cold touch spread to his brain, reminding him of the blood ice his father brought back when he went out hunting. Just a piece the size of a palm can keep the room cool for several days.
In front of his eyes flashed the stern father who taught swordsmanship, the kind father who patted the dust on his back, the gentle mother who mended the clothes, and the mutated monster who stood in front of him. The brave mother flashed a picture of the family gathered together, sharing food with flickering candles...
Woo... There was an extremely suppressed and extremely low voice from his throat, and he pulled out the straight sword violently with his right hand.
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The boy was still wearing a black tights that were different from the styles of other countries in the Northern Continent. His appearance was blurred and distorted, and only his brown hair was faintly visible.
He knelt there, praying continuously in an extremely painful tone.
Klein listened attentively, and barely understood what the other party was saying by relying on the giant language he had finally learned: "Great god, please turn your attention to this place that you have abandoned."
"Great god, please let us people of darkness get rid of the curse of fate."
"I am willing to dedicate my life to you, to please you with my blood."
...
Abandoned places... People of darkness... Great gods... Klein meditated on these key words, and suddenly remembered a place mentioned by "The Hanged Man": "Land Abandoned by God!"
It was also mentioned in Roselle's diary! He also sent a fleet to search, but found nothing... Klein narrowed his eyes slightly, not sure if his guess was correct.
He tapped the edge of the long bronze table with his fingers, and after three taps, he made up his mind, stretched out his right hand, and touched the imaginary crimson star.
The crimson ball burst out immediately, and the light flowed like water.
City of Silver, Mortuary Hall.
Derrick stood in front of the steps, looking forward with red eyes, looking at his parents lying in two coffins.
There was a simple silver straight sword stuck on the stone slab in front of him, and the straight sword shook slightly amidst the thunder that shook the house from time to time.
The Bergers inside the coffin hadn't really died yet. They struggled to keep their eyes open, panting weakly and sometimes violently, but in the eyes of some people, their lives were irrepressibly bleak and irreversibly bleak.
"Derrick, let's do it!" An old man wearing a black robe and holding a hard cane looked at the young man with a distorted face, and said in a deep voice.
"No, no, no!" The brown-haired Derrick shook his head continuously, taking a step back every time he uttered a word, and at the end, he screamed like his heart was being torn apart and his lungs were being ripped apart.
Boom!
The old man swung his cane and said, "Do you want the whole city to be buried for your parents?"
"You should be very clear that we are the people of darkness abandoned by the gods, and we can only live in this place full of curses. All the dead will become terrifying evil spirits. No matter what method is used, it is difficult to reverse, except, except People of the same blood will end their lives with their own hands!"
"Why? Why?" Derrick asked, shaking his head in bewilderment and despair, "Why are the people of our City of Silver destined to kill their fathers and mothers right from birth..."
The old man closed his eyes, as if recalling what he had experienced in the past: "...This is our fate, this is our curse, this is God's will..."
"Draw your sword, Derrick, this is a respect for your parents."
"After that, when you calm down, you can try to become a blood warrior."
Berg in the coffin wanted to speak, but after heaving his chest a few times, he could only make a loud noise.
Derrick took a difficult step, returned to the side of the silver straight sword, and stretched out his right hand tremblingly.
The cold touch spread to his brain, reminding him of the blood ice his father brought back when he went out hunting. Just a piece the size of a palm can keep the room cool for several days.
In front of his eyes flashed the stern father who taught swordsmanship, the kind father who patted the dust on his back, the gentle mother who mended the clothes, and the mutated monster who stood in front of him. The brave mother flashed a picture of the family gathered together, sharing food with flickering candles...
Woo... There was an extremely suppressed and extremely low voice from his throat, and he pulled out the straight sword violently with his right hand.
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