Crossing The Dragon: The King Sacrifices The Princess At The Beginning

The bishop's name was Dolor.

Before he became the Bishop of the God of Pain, he was a new street hustler.

The laws of the Winter Empire are strict, and idleness will be punished by the empire. However, Dawn City is not Winter City after all, and the supervision is not that serious. In addition, not everyone must have a job, and there will always be one or two exceptions.

And Dolor is such an exception.

His father was a rapist, and his mother was a prostitute in a brothel. His father paid no money to prostitutes, which was considered rape, so he was arrested and hanged by the Winter Guards.

His mother drank expired birth control pills and got pregnant and gave birth to him. This kind of life experience is almost no different from having no father or mother, and is even worse than ordinary orphans.

Because orphans will at least be sympathized with.

But he will only be despised and disgusted.

Dawn City Orphanage is where Dolor grew up, where he received a basic education.

But no one wanted to be friends with the son of a prostitute, so Dolore grew up in isolation.

When he became an adult, he left the orphanage and worked as an unloader in the market of Dawn City. The work was very hard, but at least it was a job. According to the standards of the Winter Empire, no one dared to deduct wages.

At this point in his life, Dolore still feels good. He plans to save a lot of money every month and buy a house in Shuguang City in three to five years.

If you don't want to live in the city, you can immediately hire a group of people to build houses outside the city. The only disadvantage is that it is inconvenient to start work.

Dolor naturally wanted to stay in the city.

He longs to live as a normal person.

There are so many beautiful girls in Dawn City.

If his life experience cannot be changed, then he will work hard and build a future with his meager salary... However, these good wishes collapsed a week ago.

A girl he liked suddenly scolded him for his filthy life experience and sternly claimed that she could never be with him. People like him were only worthy of living in stinking ditches with maggots; then his boss, a parade businessman, said: Inexplicably, he became extremely irritable. The old man who usually seemed to have a good temper fired several clerks for various unbelievable reasons, one of which was him.

The reason is outrageous.

She said she didn't want to see his disgusting face.

When he dragged his exhausted body back to his temporary shabby house outside the city with doubts and confusion, his mentality completely collapsed. His house was burned down, and insulting words were carved on the ground. , the money he saved was also burned in the fire. In just one day, he changed from an ordinary person with hope in life to a homeless man with nothing.

He can't find a job.

No one wanted to give him a job.

The whole city has become cold and unfamiliar, and everyone's malice is unabashed. As long as they look at him, no matter how kind a person is, they can't hide their disgust and contempt.

The physical pain was bearable.

The mental anguish had broken him.

At this moment, the God of Pain came to his mind. The benevolent Lord sympathized with his suffering and was willing to grant him the ability to gain strength from the pain. The price was to become that Lord's bishop and help those people. An adult spread his faith, and he agreed without hesitation without thinking too much.

Even though he knew very well that the God of Suffering was the Evil God.

But things couldn't get any worse.

He is already stuck in the quagmire, and he is the dog of anyone who is willing to pull him out, no matter if that person is an angel or a devil.

At this moment, Dolor has already felt that the pain in his body is transforming into his own strength in some inexplicable form. The pain of not having a father or mother's love, the pain of being ridiculed and ridiculed since childhood, the pain of being looked down upon after work, The pain of life and the pain of mental breakdown, everything is transformed into violent power.

"Roar--!!"

Those pains became a part of Dolor's body.

The cold eyes and ridicule turned into a thick carapace on his body, and pieces of dark red muscle tissue bulged, turning him into a giant more than ten meters tall; the torture of life caused huge blades to grow on his arms, enough to tear him apart. Everything he was not used to; the mental pain caused his head to become distorted and turned into an extremely ugly and ferocious appearance. His entire face was filled with blood, his lips were split to the base of his ears, and his dense teeth were exposed - now it is his turn to bring people Fear and despair.

He wants everyone to taste the pain he endured!

At this moment, a ray of light suddenly flickered in the dark sewer, and the light shone brighter and brighter. It turned out that there was a warrior galloping towards him, and the light was emanating from him.

"What's so bright!?"

"Ah, so flashy!"

"My eyes are going to burn out!"

The believers howled in agony.

At this moment, the power of pain absorbed in the altar suddenly surged.

Dalabeng, let’s take a look at this. Is this okay?

He was here to deal with the evil god, not to let evil spread, so he quickly lowered the brightness of his body, and the dazzling light gradually became softer.

"Who are you?!"

Dolor let out a hoarse roar.

A ferocious figure like black mist behind him also asked the same question. It was the will of the God of Pain. Dolor gave him many surprises. This tortured soul was in so much pain that it was a perfect container.

"I am the Glory Hero."

Dalabengba drew his sword and pointed it at Dolor and the God of Suffering.

"Your conspiracy has been exposed, let's capture him without mercy!"

"Glory Brave? What the hell! Kill him!" A hoarse roar commanded from the black mist.

Dolor roared and rushed towards Darabengba.

At this time, Old Bart's figure also appeared in the sewer, but as if no one noticed him, he walked next to the believers and talked quietly with them.

"You are not a believer of the evil god, are you?"

Believer: "I, I am the letter of the God of Suffering..."

Old Bart: "No, you're not."

Believer: "I am..."

Old Bart: "You're not."

Believer: “Okay, I’m not, then whose believer am I?”

"You all believe in the great Emperor Xiwei." Old Bart said with a smile: "Go back, the sewer is not the place you should stay."

This group of suffering believers were confused. Although they felt something was wrong, they still nodded and turned around to leave the sewer. With such a disturbance, the power of suffering obtained by the God of Suffering plummeted like a cliff.

"Damn it, where are my followers? Who is it?! Who deceived my followers?"

Even if Old Bart is standing there smoking comfortably, the God of Suffering is like a blind man, unable to see anything. At this time, Old Bart does not dare to speak. Gods are different from mortals. If he takes the initiative to expose himself, the power of ignorance will It will still be partially resisted by the evil god's divinity, and when the evil god gets a flat A, he will die.

Darabengba was beaten up and down by Dolor. His attacks could not break through his defense at all, so he could only shout anxiously: "Brother Black Storm, Miss Elementalist, I need your help for the mission!!"

The words fell.

A rotating dark portal appeared in front of Darabengba. In the blind corner of his invisible vision, a hand wrapped in black armor stretched out from the portal. The palm turned into a dragon claw and opened. With a "hiss" sound, the dragon's breath flame spurted out, cutting Dolor into three parts. The two bodies were directly vaporized, and the dark shadow behind them was instantly strangled.

After all this is done.

Dragon Claw shrank back in disgust.

Darabengba sat on the ground, staring dumbly at the dying monster. He couldn't help but tutted: "What kind of strength is this black storm brother? Can the evil god incarnate in one move?"