Crown of Silence

Chapter 532 Holy Object

boom!

The abyss is furious.

The majestic divine power burst out from the crack and impacted on the body of the hundred-armed giant.

This is a spectacle that no one has ever seen before - the way 'life' is ignited. Thousands of deaths were overlapped at this moment and imposed on the hundred-armed giant.

If death can be quantified, then a death that is enough to turn all humans, birds, animals, and even vegetation in an entire country to ashes has arrived at this moment.

Die, rebirth, die, rebirth, die, rebirth...

Just cycle through the purgatory-like torture.

Ye Lanzhou's face was expressionless.

“■■!!!”

Ludovic roared, and the abyss shook, roaring with him.

But this time, the meaning He expressed was much easier to understand than before.

--let go!

Ye Lanzhou smiled and shook his head slightly:

"I'm just reacting now. Isn't it a little late?"

bright.

——

Asgard North Icefield

It was midnight, but it was as bright as day.

There are clouds lingering in the sky that have not gone away for thousands of years. The iron-like clouds are glowing like iron at the moment, as if a fire has been lit in the clouds.

Countless blade-like tiny pieces of ice and snow fell from the sky, carrying a soul-piercing coldness.

Ice and snow were swept up in the hurricane and fell to the ground.

As a result, there was only a desolate whiteness left between heaven and earth.

Only the faint firelight on the barrier is beating and burning, and black smoke rises. Thousands of firelights are thousands of wisps of black smoke rising into the sky. The smoke was stretched in the hurricane, intertwined in one place, and then disappeared together.

Like a burning soul dissipating in the wind.

And just between this miserable white sky and earth, the countless smog-shrouded land is engraved with patches of scarlet. The frozen blood covered the snowfields in layers, overlapping each other. After hundreds of years, they are still as bright as ever.

The dead people left their blood and souls here and turned into that color.

Now that color is moistened by new blood, it seems to have come to life, like ashes being rekindled, emitting a coquettish light of death like a flame.

Touching.

In comparison, the countless dead things on the snowfield that had long since lost their lives were insignificant.

There are countless monsters.

The moment those demons set foot on the snowfield, they encountered an unexpected and terrifying force and were doomed to death.

This is true even if it is a horrific natural disaster.

Right in the middle of the snowfield, in the deepest part of the spider web covered with layers of ice and snow, the half-human, half-spider creature still stood in its original posture.

But there is no longer any interest left.

It's still burning.

The green flames danced lightly on his head, using blood as fuel, but there was no warmth or even light.

It's like an illusion.

Scourge: Son of the Spider.

The terrifying existence that has been sleeping under the wasteland of the north wall for hundreds of years was a huge threat that once breached the outer barrier.

But it had already died the moment it broke out of the ground, along with countless heirs and descendants, and even the countless spider eggs hidden in the frozen soil were also petrified and buried together under the blue flames.

The battlefield at this moment was full of soldiers and musicians running around to clean up the mess, but there was silence here, and everyone avoided that area in awe.

"——As expected of the Blue King."

In front of the burning spider, two figures stood.

The young man wearing a cloak with an eagle emblem sighed softly. He was wearing a light and flexible robe. The robe was white and almost blended into the academy.

The five slender fingers with black iron rings were pressed against the command sword at his waist that had never been unsheathed.

He seemed to be sick and weak, his face was colorless, he was as delicate as a girl, and he spoke slowly and slowly.

He doesn't look like an Asgardian at all, nor does he look like the third emperor's son who has been sitting alone in the wilderness on the north wall for ten years since he came of age, ambitious and seeking the throne.

Contrary to the arrogance and frivolity of the past, he stood behind the gray figure, his expression became respectful and gentle, full of awe and coming from the heart.

The King of Blue.

The guardian of this world and the pioneer of the dark world, the well-deserved strongest man, the well-deserved... King of Musicians!

"It's so cold."

Bach looked at the burning natural disaster in front of him and suddenly murmured softly: "I have been here so many times, but I still feel that it is so cold here. The wind is strong and the sky is gray, which makes me feel unhappy. Asgar It’s hard for Germans to live here, right?”

"Although the wasteland is frozen soil, it can still support people."

The third emperor's son said: "The frozen soil on top is dug up, and the soil below can be used for sowing. If you are lucky, you can cultivate for three months every year before the cold wave comes."

Although living is harder, at least it is better than dying. "

"It's a pity that every time we open up, we can only find this kind of wilderness... Go deeper next time, maybe we can find a warm place for you."

Bach murmured softly and turned around, revealing his white beard and eyebrows: "What time is it now?"

"A quarter past eleven, almost midnight."

"about there."

Bach nodded: "Just start when you're ready. I feel flustered if I keep waiting."

"As commanded."

The third emperor nodded and waved back, and a priest in gray clothes standing in the distance stepped forward.

The two priests were different from ordinary clergymen. They did not wear the emblem of the order, and they did not look kind and gentle.

They wore robes, but the lining of the robes was sewn with armor plates, and the armor plates were connected by chain mail. It was more like a heavy armor than a robe.

They had short beards and beards, and shaved their heads. Instead, they had tattoos of scriptures extending from their necks and behind their ears.

On the back of their heads, there was a gear emblem that was a variant of the holy emblem.

Chainsaw Brothers.

"These two are the bearers of the holy relics of the Chainsaw Brothers." The third prince introduced them and bowed to them: "Thanks to the sacrifice of the Chainsaw Brothers, the Asgardians and the Holy City will remember it in their hearts."

"Just take what you need."

The elder in the lead nodded, not respectful to Bach, nor flattering to the third prince, but said calmly: "Sacred relics that can only be used for worship are meaningless. In the final analysis, it is a weapon to be used on the battlefield. If it can be used, we are happy to see it happen."

The third prince nodded, "Then, have you brought the things?"

The two priests looked at each other, and the one behind nodded, took off his outer robe, exposed his naked upper body, knelt on the ground, and bowed to the elder.

The scars on his back were exposed, and the spine that had long been replaced by steel was also exposed.

The elder drew out the dagger expressionlessly, stabbed it, and tore his flesh apart. Blood gushed out, fell on the snow, and merged into the bright red.

In the half-mechanized body, the black iron box was pulled out from between the gears.

After a hasty bandage, the priest was left.

Everyone's eyes fell on the palm-sized iron box in the elder's hand.

"This is..." asked the third prince.

The elder nodded.

"In order to avoid leaking the news and covering up the characteristics of the holy object itself, Yevgeny carried it all the way." The elder handed the iron box to the third prince:

"There is wax sealed by the patriarch himself, proving that it is intact. Obey the patriarch's order and hand it over to you. Our mission is completed."

In silence, the third prince took the dagger, pried off the wax, opened the black iron box, took out the thing wrapped in silk, and opened it carefully.

Finally, he saw the black iron sheet sleeping inside.

Sensing the breath of the demon, it awakened, emitting a faint golden flame that stung people's eyes. The broken iron piece trembled slightly, bursting out a whistle, echoing in the ear, like a long sigh.

"Is this the last fragment of fate?"

The third emperor whispered softly, "I am so lucky to be able to see it."

Unlike the fate monument standing in the square of the Holy City, once upon a time, this was the unique "fate", a true miracle.

After the first three kings laid the system of the Holy Cauldron, they used it as a foundation to forge a divine weapon named "fate" - the Spear of Destiny.

With this object, mankind opened up its own golden age.

As a price, it fell, shattered, and fell apart in the first war between the Holy Cauldron and the Hundred Eyes. The three remaining fragments of the world also scattered in all directions.

The owners of the fragments in the past were eager to repair it and restore its former glory.

The second pope threw one of the fragments into the furnace, and used alchemy to sublimate the vast amount of metal into "Star Antimony", and then forged the sword of the popes of all generations, the authority of the Red King, "The Gate of Heaven".

The second fragment was later salvaged from the deep sea by the Knights of the Round Table.

Arthur's descendants pinned their hopes on it to cut off their own destiny, hoping that it could kill the curse in their blood and suppress the dragon blood. Therefore, it was made into a holy spear for slaying dragons, and called it "Dragon Slayer" and "Fallen Iron". Unfortunately, the final result was not as expected.

And this is the last fragment held by the Chainsaw Brothers.

"What a pity."

The third prince couldn't help but sigh.

A hand stretched out from the side, picked up the fragment of fate, and held it in his hand: "There is nothing to pity about dead things. As long as humans still exist, they can be recreated in the future."

It was Bach.

He handed the long staff in his hand to the third prince: "Please step back. Ordinary people cannot bear the changes that will happen next."

"I am also a musician."

The third prince stubbornly stopped where he was: "The best one."

Bach glanced at him, smiled, and said nothing.

The next moment, the bass of the harpsichord sounded.

Like a huge bell, the earth trembled, the ether was turbulent, and all music theory was involuntarily involved in that frequency and danced with it.

The third prince changed color, hesitated, and took a step back.

Then, another step.