A Tale of Strategies For the Throne

It was late at night, and the bright crescent moon hung in the night sky. Countless stars shone brightly, and the stars towered over the moon.

In a deep mountain valley, there is a piece of land surrounded by rugged black stones, which seem to be natural or artificially polished. They have different shapes and glow with a faint black and blue luster under the moonlight.

Most of these black stones have dense holes. When the night wind passes by, they make a permeating whine one after another. Among the piles of black rocks, there were ethereal lights and shadows intertwined, as if there were some invisible monster lurking in the darkness, struggling to come out, it was creepy.

The bonfire is burning.

The huge red flame, as big as a house, burned in the dark night, spitting out clusters of bright tongues of fire into the night sky.

At the foot of the red flame is a large black and blue stone slab.

The hundreds of square meters of black bluestone slabs were spread out on the ground, forming an irregular circle.

There are countless lines carved on the stone slab, obviously all carved by humans. The lines are exquisite and there is no error. Those carved lines that snake across the entire black bluestone slab look like patterns, patterns, or runes, with an indescribable mysterious aura. When you look deeply, it feels like your entire soul will be sucked into it. The feeling of terror.

The lines carved on the black bluestone should have been the same color as the slate, but under the firelight, the edges of those lines had a faint blood-red color.

It was the blood color that had been stained by the blood flowing along those lines for a long time.

The looming blood color under the firelight makes this black bluestone even more evocative and dark.

At this moment, it was like a greedy monster from the dark abyss, opening its big mouth, never satisfied to devour the flesh, flesh and soul it longed for.

The man in black robe stood quietly in front of the bonfire, the blazing firelight reflected on his body, but strangely could not drive away the shadow on his body.

His face has been hidden in the darkness, and no one can see his appearance.

He stood by the bonfire with his hands down, motionless, like the pitch-black flagstones erected around the bonfire. There was no breath of life from him.

It wasn't until those fanatical believers came from a distance to deliver the sacrifice he was interested in that the black-robed man finally made some movement.

He turned his head and looked in that direction.

The face hidden under the hood of the robe could not be seen clearly, but the shaking air could feel the heat of his eyes at this moment.

A soft seat made of woven wicker was carried by four believers and walked slowly towards the altar.

The young children sat quietly among them.

In the dark night, the child's pale golden hair and snow-white skin were extremely conspicuous, and seemed to glow slightly under the firelight.

Because she had just been forced to purify herself in the lake, the pale blond hair hanging down by her cheeks was still a little wet, and occasionally a drop of water would drip onto Garlan's cheek.

The dust and dirt stained on his body during his escape have also been washed away, revealing his fair skin.

The female believers who were responsible for cleaning him gave him a change of clothes after cleaning him. The clothes that had become extremely worn out in the past few days were thrown away. He is now wearing a black suit that is as black as these believers. Cyan clothes.

However, it was not a robe, but a sleeveless short robe, leaving his neck, lower chest, hands and legs exposed to the dark night. Garlan could probably guess the reason for exposing these parts of his body.

Garlan, who was sitting on the chair, gritted his teeth and tried hard to move, but his body was so limp that he couldn't even move his fingers.

Those people forced him to drink a cup of potion. He didn't know what it was. After drinking it, he couldn't exert any strength at all. His body seemed to be completely paralyzed. They could only let those people put him on the seat and lift him. come over.

There was a sudden coldness on his back, as if a chill was coming over him, and Garlan looked up.

His breath suffocated slightly because he saw the man in black robes who made him feel scared slowly walking towards him.

The man's eyes were fixed on him, as if he were looking at a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

The man in black robe nodded slightly. Then, the two fanatics standing nearby grabbed one of Gallan's arms, lifted Gallan to his feet, and almost lifted him towards him. The man in black robe walked away.

The man in black robe stood there and stretched out a hand from the tightly wrapped black robe.

A female believer came forward and knelt at his feet, holding a black wooden plate. On it lay a quill pen and a small dish of blood-red paint.

The unusually pale hand held the snow-white quill on the plate and dipped it in the blood-red color. The man in black robe leaned over and used the pen to carefully and meticulously draw complex and mysterious blood-colored runes on the skin of the child in front of him.

First the calves, then the arms, and finally the neck.

Normally, the sacrificial runes would be drawn on the sacrifice by the fanatic believers in advance, but this time, there must be no mistakes in this important sacrifice, so he did it himself.

After the man in black robe put the red-stained quill back on the wooden plate, almost all of Garlan's exposed skin was covered with dense blood-red patterns.

The snow-white skin contrasts with the blood-red patterns and reflects the red firelight, giving people an extremely strange feeling.

He wanted to struggle, but he couldn't move his body. He could only be supported by the two people next to him and stood in front of the bonfire.

The man in black robe stretched out his hand towards him, and his fingers quickly changed into various gestures in front of his eyes.

He didn't know what the other party wanted to do, he just frowned and looked at the hand moving in front of him in confusion.

After a while, the hand suddenly stopped.

He heard the man in black robe laugh. The laughter was deep and deep, with a faint air of satisfaction and joy.

"As expected of having..."

The man in black robe retracted his hand and said, "The power of God cannot confuse you."

Garlan was stunned for a moment, and then understood instantly.

He remembered the sacrifice he saw for the first time. The child stood on the altar with eyes blank. Even if his hands and feet were cut, he did not move. Even when his throat was cut in the end, he did not move. .

Come to think of it, the child was probably under something similar to hypnosis.

And just now, the man in black robe also wanted to hypnotize him and make him voluntarily let them bleed like other children. But for some reason, it seemed to have no effect on him, so the man in black robe gave up.

The two male fanatics next to him held Garlan with one hand and grabbed Garlan's hand with the other, asking him to stretch both hands forward toward their priest.

The black-robed priest took the golden dagger presented by the believer kneeling at his feet. He held the golden dagger with the symbol of the All Things Religion in his hands, placed it against his forehead, and whispered a few prayers.

Then, with a wave of his hand, he cut Garlan's wrist with the golden dagger.

Blood flowed out, covering the blood-red patterns on Garlan's wrist, flowing down the slender arm, and dripping drop by drop on the black bluestone where Garlan stood.

The dripping blood instantly blended into the lines carved on the stone slab, and slowly flowed forward along the winding lines, filling the dry and thirsty carvings little by little.

The firelight was shining, and the dim carvings seemed to suddenly light up the moment they touched the flowing blood, like a ferocious monster making movement and waking up little by little.

At the same time, the long and soul-stirring chant of the man in black robes sounded in the dark night.

He stood in front of the bonfire, raising his pale hands and the blood-stained gold dagger in his right hand.

His deep voice was not loud, but at this moment, it seemed as if there was an invisible force spreading his heart-shuddering voice across the land.

Countless believers in black robes knelt devoutly around the bluestone slabs, prostrated themselves around the bonfire, and buried their faces deeply in the ground.

The wound opened by the man in black robe was neither light nor serious, just enough to allow blood to flow out slowly.

Garlan was stood on top of the bluestone slab with his hands raised in the air.

He couldn't move and could only watch as his wrist continued to bleed, like broken beads, falling drop by drop in the dark night.

Then, there was a sharp pain in his ankle.

The man in black robe who finished chanting leaned over and cut his ankle this time.

Garlan couldn't see his feet, but he could feel the warm liquid gushing out from the area of ​​severe pain and flowing through his heels.

The world in front of him began to shake unsteadily, and the excessive blood loss in his body made him feel dizzy.

Not only that, in addition to the sharp pain of being cut apart on his body, there was also some indescribable feeling of fear that gripped his heart tightly.

In this oppressive darkness, in the strange blood-red eyes, he had to watch his blood continue to flow... He had to feel the blood in his body flowing out bit by bit, along with the My own vitality is disappearing bit by bit...

This feeling of slowly dying is an extremely long and terrifying process.

This extreme fear can almost drive people crazy.

Did he die in this way at the hands of such a guy this time?

he thought in a trance.

...It would be better to die at the hands of Heimos.

His vision began to blur, as if even his oxygen was gradually losing. Garlan felt his breathing begin to quicken, and his chest heaved more violently.

The firelight in his vision was dimming, and darkness was coming, slowly eroding him and taking away the light from his eyes.

The child's once bright golden eyes had completely dimmed at this moment, and the drooping eyelashes cast dark shadows under his eyes, like an ominous omen shrouding the slowly dilated pupils.

Heimos...

asshole.

You don't mean what you say.

In his last consciousness, he cursed Heimos, and Garlan fell completely into darkness.

boom!

The campfire suddenly flickered violently.

That was the moment when the blood flowing down the winding carvings touched the bottom of the bonfire. In front of the black-robed man who raised his hands and chanted loudly, it suddenly shot towards the sky and burned fiercely.

An extremely subtle shadow that could not be felt by ordinary people emerged in the blazing flames.

The chanting came to an abrupt end, and the man in black robe looked at the shadow in the flames and was so excited that his whole body trembled.

For the first time in such a long time, he felt the breath of the god he served with all his heart.

Even just such a tiny bit of invisible breath had already made him extremely ecstatic.

God——

Timiyat! O Mother Goddess who created all things!

After a long time, you are finally about to wake up from the abyss of death again!

Oh my God!

Did you hear——

Your humble but loyal followers will sacrifice everything for you——

The ecstasy made the man in black robe tremble with excitement.

He thought, indeed, offering this sacrifice is the most correct thing to do.

Now, he only needs to sacrifice all the flesh, blood and soul of this precious sacrifice to his god——

Thinking of this, the man in black robe couldn't wait to turn around and walk towards the sacrifice.

The child who was being held had lost a lot of blood, his breath was weak, and his head was hanging weakly. His light golden hair, which was wet with sweat, seemed to have lost its luster at the moment, and was scattered messily on the bloodless cheeks.

The man in black robe stood in front of Garlan, grabbed Garlan's blond hair with one hand, and lifted his hanging head.

The child whose hair was pulled was forced to tilt his head back, and his weakly opened lips reflected the light of the bonfire burning fiercely in front of him. There was no color at all, and he was shockingly pale.

At this moment, the child's throat was exposed to the sight of the man in black robes. Dense blood-red patterns were imprinted on the snow-white skin of the neck, making it look even more slender and fragile.

The face of the man in black robe, hidden in the shadow of the hood, showed a fanatical look at this moment.

The gold dagger dripping with blood shone golden red in the firelight.

The man in black robe waved his pale hand in the air.

The golden dagger flashed a cold light in the dark night and stabbed Garlan's throat fiercely——

A little bit of cold light arrives first.

Then the arrows were like lightning.

Like a white light suddenly cutting through the dark night——

The black-robed priest let out a low roar. The arrow penetrated the palm of his right hand, and blood spurted out.

The golden dagger, which only had time to cut through the shallow skin on Garlan's neck, made a clanging sound and was knocked out by the arrow. It spun around in the night and fell to the stone slab with a clatter.

Everything happened so fast. Before the man in black robe could recover from his palm being pierced by a sharp arrow, another sharp arrow shot through the air.

This smaller sharp arrow penetrated the wrist of his other hand, and the severe pain made him subconsciously let go of the child's hair that he was holding.

Holding up his two hands that were pierced by sharp arrows one after another, the man in black robe turned around suddenly.

The next second, his pupils hidden under the hood suddenly dilated.

Under the moonlight, in the bright firelight, a tall and burly figure was riding on horseback.

That one person was like an army galloping forward on the earth.

The momentum is terrifying and unstoppable.

The black horse galloping in the dark night was extremely powerful, and it only took a blink of an eye to gallop from a distance to the man in black robe.

It raised its hooves high, stopped abruptly, and made a high-pitched neighing sound like a dragon's roar.

The golden-brown hair of the tall man riding the horse was flying in the dark night, like an angry brown lion.

His scorching eyes were like coals of fire, with terrifying oppression, looking down at the black-robed priest under the horse.

The man in black robe standing under the tall horse was trembling.

No one saw it, but his hands hidden under the black robe were indeed shaking uncontrollably.

In front of the man standing in front of him on horseback——

Before this king of Aaron Landis—

That was a figure that made all followers of the Cult of Everything tremble.

Like a majestic mountain standing between heaven and earth, no one can shake it.

King Camos.

Aaron Landis' hero.

A few years ago, he strangled the entire Sect of All Things with iron-blooded methods, which made all the followers of the Sect of All Things hate him, but they also feared him from the bottom of their hearts.

The scene of the killing of the unbeatable and terrifying king a few years ago is deeply imprinted in the hearts of every believer.

That was a power that even the power given to them by God could not resist.

They couldn't stand up to the king.

Because the aura of this young king who was fighting out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of ​​blood was enough to crush and crush all the power of darkness.

The King of Sun is as strong as the blazing sun.

All kinds of sorcery and ghostly tricks will be wiped out under the fierce sun.

Even the dark power from the abyss of hell cannot taint this resolute king in the slightest.

——Wherever King Camos goes, there is a place where the scorching sun shines, and all shadows will be invisible——

The man in black robe stood under the tall black horse. He looked at the young king who frightened him and sat on the horse like this, raising his arms.

King Camos looked down at him as if he were looking at a lowly ant struggling to survive in the dark.

He didn't even bother to look at the true face of the man in black robes under his hood, he raised his hand and swung his sword cleanly.

The huge sword blade cut a ray of cold light in the dark night.

Bloody light rose into the sky, and the black-robed man's head and the hood he had never taken off were cut from his body.

The head wrapped in black cloth rolled in an arc in the air, spreading blood in the air along the way.

Suddenly, another horse galloped over.

A young man was leaning on the horse, and he pushed the horse's speed to the extreme.

He happened to gallop past under the head rolling in the air, so the blood scattered from the head in the air splashed a little on his cheeks and stained the corners of his eyes red.

With his golden eyes staring straight ahead, Heimos, who seemed not to have felt the blood spatter, galloped forward on his horse.

The next moment, the long sword in his hand split two marks in the air.

The arms of the two believers holding Garlan, who had passed out due to excessive blood loss, spurted out a large amount of blood instantly, and their shoulders were broken amidst their screams.

The body of the blond child who lost his support fell forward softly and was about to fall to the ground.

On top of the galloping horse, Heimos jumped up and dismounted.

The horse without its rider continued to gallop forward and disappeared into the depths of the night.

Almost as soon as the dismounted boy landed, his knees bent and he knelt on the ground.

His hands suddenly stretched forward, and he took Garlan into his arms as he fell softly forward——

The author has something to say: Ah, I finally finished the plot of the hero saving the beauty before going on a business trip.

Yes, friends, you read that right.

I was scheduled to go on a business trip, so I took two days off_(:3∠)_