Crown of Silence

Chapter 563 Remnants

A noisy sound.

In the huge basement, there is a huge conference table. The walls are nailed with dense war maps, which are already filled with various marks.

There are all kinds of information and files everywhere, and there is almost no place to stand.

The whole conference room is busy and full of anxiety.

The smoke from burning tobacco permeates the air, with the pungent smell of saliva and sweat. The hot warm wind blows out from the constant temperature matrix, mixed together, almost suffocating.

"Our defense line collapsed!"

Next to the conference table, the old man with bald hair in a wheelchair held the report, his hands trembling: "Due to the operational mistakes of the commander of the Western Fleet, the defense line has completely fallen! Avalon has fallen!"

At the end, he almost lost his voice, pounded his chest in grief, suddenly spit out a mouthful of blood, and fell on the wheelchair.

"General Norin! General Norin!"

The people around him were in chaos and shouted, "Medic! Medic!"

Two lame old men ran up and pushed him away.

In the chaos, the old man at the innermost angrily swept the files on the table and roared, "Coward! Coward! Where is the commander of the Western Fleet! Go to the stake! Burn him to death!"

"Burn him to death!" The others waved their hands in agreement.

"No! You can't do this!"

The commander argued loudly, "I only have my own strategic considerations! The current territorial depth and food reserves of Anglo cannot directly compete with natural disasters... You can't do this! I want to see the Grand Inquisitor! I want to see the Grand Inquisitor!"

"Coward, die!"

The old man next to him, who was still wearing a qi mask, stood up angrily, pulled out the decorative sword on the wall, and stabbed it into the commander's stomach. No blood flowed out, and the cables of the mechanical internal organs were exposed under the torn clothes. The blade passed through the gap between the internal organs, without any pain.

But the commander held his stomach exaggeratedly, screamed, and fell to the ground.

"Come on, drag him down!"

An old man with a metal pipe on his neck, wearing the hat of the supreme commander, waved his hand and said: "At this moment, we can only look at the Southern Legion, bring the map of Asgard!"

"Report to the commander, there is no map of Asgard, you can make do with a copy of the Caucasus."

"Damn it, can these two be the same!"

The supreme commander roared: "You are dereliction of duty! Dereliction of duty! Military police! Military police! That white-haired kid, I'm talking to you, come here! Yes, you are the military police, drag this guy down! Burn him to death!"

Ye Qingxuan was stunned, and walked forward at the urging of the old man. He didn't know what to do. The old man who was regarded as dereliction of duty winked at him and gestured for a long time. Ye Qingxuan awkwardly pushed him aside. The old men who were eating melon seeds on both sides covered him with a red cloth and used it as a burning.

Under the red cloth, the old man even screamed in a particularly cooperative manner as if he was burned to death.

What the hell is this?

Ye Qingxuan was confused at this moment, while the command center was still in full swing. People kept bringing out urgent reports from the next room. There were also orders constantly issued in the command center to mobilize troops from all over the country to defend and counterattack.

However, the orders were thrown into the trash can in the corner, together with cigarette ashes and leftover fish bones, and no one cared about them anymore.

Soon, with the command of the command center, the corrupt situation improved slightly, but then, ten minutes later, it began to take a sharp turn for the worse. After Anglu, the Western Desert and the Northern Ice Field were lost one after another. Asgard fought to the death and fell, Burgundy split, and the Caucasus was ignited into a hell of fire with the strategic movement of the saints, and no one was left alive.

In the end, only the Holy City was left to fight against the dark world alone.

In the suffocating silence, the supreme commander took off his hat and said in a hoarse voice: "Comrades, we have reached the most critical moment! We must defend the Holy City! We must not lose! The 10,070th Eastern Expedition will never end because of this!!!"

He shouted the last sentence hoarsely, and all the other old men shouted enthusiastically. But in the midst of the excitement, a discordant voice sounded.

"Wait!"

The old man who had just been "stabbed to death" by the friendly army climbed up, waving a book thicker than a dictionary in his hand: "The host calculated it wrong! There are clearly six barrier concerters on my flagship, fully charged, how could I be wiped out by a charge of the demons?"

The old man in charge of the calculation rolled his eyes: "One hundred points of dice, you rolled 9 points for "weather", a big failure! Stormy weather, demons have a bonus. Besides, your fleet is not well supplied, half of the musicians are damaged in the battle, and the concerters are self- Ruined!"

"I clearly have the terrain advantage!"

"The terrain advantage is offset!"

"Bullshit! That's not what's written in the rulebook! You bastard, you miscalculated! And I bought two airships! You ate them! Give me my fleet back!"

The old man was embarrassed when he exposed his own disclosure: "I wrote the rules for the naval battle! I changed it! You have objections!"

"I'll kill you, the heretic, with one sword!"

"Come on! Come on! If you don't come, you're my son!"

The two became more and more excited as they talked. They were obviously old and frail with life-support tubes and mechanical organs inserted all over their bodies, but they were unambiguous when they started fighting. They started fighting immediately. The people around them wanted to pull them apart, but the "dead" who were judged to be destroyed fanned the flames and stepped on the wrong places. After a few minutes, a group of people were fighting in a ball.

It seems that the 10,007th Eastern Expedition will stop like this...

Ye Qingxuan squatted beside and shouted a few times, but found that no one paid attention to him. He could only sigh and wait for them to finish fighting. But a melon seed shell was thrown on his head.

He looked back and saw an old man sticking half of his head out from behind a curtain in the corner of the room and waving at him.

"Hey, young man, it's you... come here."

Ye Qingxuan lowered his head helplessly, not knowing whether he was going to let him drag out another heretic, but after getting behind the curtain, he couldn't help but gasp.

Behind a curtain, the atmosphere has become completely different.

As far as the eye can see, in addition to the piles of unorganized files, there are metal and plastic cables, and machines that have accumulated to occupy an entire wall.

Ye Qingxuan has seen those things in the hospital.

Artificial oxygen synthesizer, heart rate monitor, hemodialysis pump...

Dense cables extend from the equipment on the ceiling, the ground or the wall, and connect to the old man sitting on the heavy iron chair to maintain his life.

The half face that Ye Qingxuan just saw may be his only remaining flesh and blood.

Not only has half of his cheekbone been replaced by metal, but the rest of his body can hardly survive alone. The thin old man is almost completely embedded in the iron chair, wrapped by dense machinery.

Blood is pumped by an artificial heart, breathing is maintained by steel lungs, artificial solution is injected into the spine, and even half of the skull is transparent. Through the transparent skull, you can see the silver electrodes inserted into the withered brain...

He sat on the chair, unable to turn his head except for a slight movement forward and backward, facing the wall. There was a long and narrow window carved into the wall, and flames burned on the dark ocean, monotonous and boring.

It was like torture.

"Are you scared?"

The old man motioned Ye Qingxuan to sit down and laughed, but the laughter was strangely hoarse and sharp when it came out of the metal vocal cords:

"Your Excellency has come from afar and cannot go out to greet you. I am sorry for the impoliteness."

"It doesn't matter. I'm still young. If I can see the person in charge, it doesn't matter if I run a little more."

Ye Qingxuan looked at his face, the dense wrinkles and age spots on his remaining face, but couldn't tell how old he was...

"I know what you want to say, Mr. Ye."

The old man sighed softly, and the only flexible left index finger tapped the armrest: "Mr. Ye, you want to see us, but we may not be what you think - there is no person in charge here, there are just a group of remnants abandoned by the times.

The Ministry of Faith has collapsed long ago, and we are hiding in this forgotten corner. licking wounds in the desert, even the leader has died in the Holy Wheel Court.

You hope to find the temple here, but there is only a pile of ruins here, worthless, isn't it, Mr. Ye? "

Ye Qingxuan was silent for a moment, took off the holy belt that symbolized his identity, threw it aside, and just looked into his eyes: "I need your help."

"I know."

The old man looked at the holy belt beside Ye Qingxuan, his eyes became emotional, his fingers moved, and pointed: "Can I see it?"

Ye Qingxuan put the holy belt in his hand, and he held it tightly, stroking the pattern on it with his fingers, and a nostalgic smile appeared on the remaining face:

"The holy belt of the Grand Inquisitor... It's great, I see it again after a hundred years."

Ye Qingxuan sat quietly beside him, looking at the same scenery as him, and did not disturb him, allowing him to reminisce about the past.

After a long time, the old man retracted his sight.

"Thank you, Mr. Ye, you can call me 'Shi Dong'."

The old man introduced himself: "I am the same as the group of old ghosts you just saw. I can be regarded as... the last remnants of the Inquisition."

Ye Qingxuan was stunned.

The last remnant is not the Ministry of Doctrine, but the Inquisition...

The Inquisition was disbanded more than 90 years ago!

How many years have these guys lived...

And when the people of the Ministry of Doctrine left the Holy City, they were almost left with nothing, and there was no room for any property to take away. According to what Ye Qingxuan saw, the mechanical organs, artificial blood, and life-support facilities of these old people were a staggering number every day.

What kind of identity is the person who can make them go bankrupt, sell all their pots and pans, and build, maintain and support these facilities at all costs?

"Mr. Ye, don't worry."

Shi Dong made a strange sound of gasping, as if he was laughing: "If we still have any advantages, it's just living a long life. When the Inquisition was still there, some of us were ascetics, some were judges, some were purification musicians, and some were knights of the Witch Hammer... Now, we are just a bunch of old trash who can't survive for more than five minutes without oxygen tubes."

Ye Qingxuan smiled, but didn't take it seriously.

Whoever takes it seriously is an idiot.