Deep Sea Embers

Thus, the Annihilation Cultists began to pray.

In the dim light of the oil lamp, in the stagnant atmosphere of death, in this deep and cold assembly hall, under the gaze of the deep and deep Lord.

A member who was insane and acted recklessly brought that inexorable shadow into this meeting place. From now on, anyone who leaves the meeting place may bring that shadow to other compatriots, just like the one who just now As happened, so, they will not leave here again—under the witness and encouragement of the messenger, these devout and fanatical believers will choose a peaceful and loyal sacrifice.

They have made up their minds to bring the secrets they hold to the kingdom of the Lord, and will not reveal any more to the ghost.

At least, that's what they've decided now—a moment of courage is always easy to come by.

The cultists prayed silently, constantly calling out the blessings of the secluded Holy Lord in the secret room, while the messengers sat quietly at the round table, watching every face in the room calmly, watching the steadfastness and strength of these people. Nervous, brave, fearful and shaken.

Time passed like this for an unknown amount of time, and the oil lamp on the table was flickering and flickering. During a certain flame jump, some of them seemed to hear a faint voice:

"...I'll give you a chance."

Someone raised his head in horror, looking for the source of the sound, someone closed his eyes tightly, as if he was afraid of seeing something, but the sound had already dissipated in the air, as if it had never appeared before.

"Keep praying," the messenger said softly, with some deceptive power in his words, "the specter is helpless, he has nothing more to threaten us except death, and death itself is the way to the Lord. the quickest road in the country."

In the past, these words of the messenger have always brought courage to people and quickly re-established the most restless followers, but for some reason, every word he said this time can only make people feel more and more terror is approaching the cold—

An increasingly intense uneasiness is spreading in the assembly hall, fear is approaching the border of reason, shaking is gradually growing in silence, not everyone is the most devout saint, and for those who are not devout... now is the time to lose their minds up.

One of the believers finally screamed, the thinnest one—he jumped up from his chair as if he had seen something terrible, and shouted: "I say! I say! I know how Something happened!"

The messenger stood up from the chair in an instant, and shouted loudly with shock and anger: "Hold him!"

Several figures around the round table immediately rushed up, grabbed the thin figure roughly and angrily, pressed him firmly on the table, and tried to cover his mouth to prevent him from revealing the secret of the Lord—but the thin figure But the figure of the man erupted with astonishing resistance. He struggled violently, and black chains appeared around him. Terrible bone spurs and keratinized structures appeared on his limbs, which made him almost break free from the shackles of his "citizens". while yelling continuously:

"It was the missionaries of the end who gave us the information! They claimed that the truth of the beginning of creation was hidden in the 'dream of the unknown', and the most primitive blueprint of the Holy Lord was hidden...

"The dream of the elves can lead to the dream of the unknown! This race itself is the carrier and channel of the dream, because they have defects in the blueprint stage...

"The followers of the Black Sun are also in action, but they are looking for something else, and I don't know what they are looking for!

"The last preachers say the time is near, but that's all I know...that's all I know, Mr. Duncan, and only the prophets and saints know more, and the last preachers, they I know... that's all I really know!"

The skinny cultist screamed while struggling. In the great fear, he inspired another level of courage—the courage to betray the faith, but then he raised his head with all his might, tears streaming down his face Looking at the "messenger" not far away, a new fear followed the brief courage: "I'm sorry, I just want to live, I want to live..."

Then he screamed again: "Mr. Duncan! Please protect me! Don't let the messenger kill me! I kept my promise - you said you would give me another chance! You said... you would..."

The heavy pressure on the shoulders subsided, and the thin cultist screamed halfway in horror, and finally noticed the change in the atmosphere belatedly, so he stopped slowly.

From the beginning to the end, only his screams echoed in the assembly hall. His "compatriots" pressed him, but no one really stopped his shouts. The messenger was watching him, but from beginning to end Never really made a move.

He widened his eyes, watched the envoy slowly put his hands on the round table, and smiled gently at himself: "Look, it's not that difficult to say it."

Around the round table, those believers who had worked together to push him on the table also retreated one by one.

These "citizens" surrounded him and stared at him. They had slightly stiff and gentle smiles on their faces, and then clapped their hands one by one.

The thin cultist's eyes were wide open. He looked at everyone in the assembly hall in horror, and finally said with trembling lips: "The messenger... Your Excellency Duncan, and Duncan, Duncan, you are all..."

Creepy whistling and roaring sounded one after another, and one after another appeared in the assembly hall, one after another, ghost demons were disintegrating or struggling to break the chains, escaping from the real world, and with the disintegration or escape of these symbiotic demons, Every figure in the eyes of the skinny believer (including the "messenger") began to ignite rapidly and spontaneously.

The last burning figure walked towards the thin cultist before collapsing, and patted him on the shoulder with a smile: "You too."

The assembly hall fell silent.

The thin figure stood quietly among the countless black ashes. After a few seconds, he blinked suddenly, then quickly returned to the round table, reached for the pen and paper on the table, and brushed I wrote a page in a hurry.

Then he grabbed the piece of paper and walked to the exit of the basement—the "thorns" summoned by the messenger before still firmly blocked the door, and sinister and dark forces surged in the thorn bushes.

But in just an instant, the thornbush blazed into flames, and the dark green spirit fire reduced it to ashes, and the door behind the thornbush was pushed open.

Duncan quickly walked through the embers of the basement door, through the dilapidated buildings on the surface, and then his figure soared into the air in the flames...

A patrolling guard watched in astonishment as a mass of dark green flames fell on the street in front of him. Just as he subconsciously raised his weapon, he saw a shambling figure walking out of the mass of dark green flames, which seemed to be constantly collapsing and disintegrating. figure.

The thin and dangerous figure that was constantly collapsing and disintegrating walked over quickly, with a bright smile on his face: "Hello, I want to report heretical activities."

The guard who was about to blow his whistle and swung his sword at the same time froze for a moment.

He has served the church for many years, and it was the first time he met this kind of...an informant, and subconsciously asked in astonishment, "Report?"

"Yes, it's in the basement of the house at the end of the alley ahead, the house with the blue sloping roof. This is a report letter, with a general situation of their party on it, and an anonymous bank account at the end. Please transfer the reporting bonus directly to the account, thank you."

The guard stared blankly at this suspicious and weird guy, and after listening to the other party's crackling words, he finally couldn't help but raised his finger and pointed at the other party's face that was constantly turning into ashes and collapsing: "Mr. , your complexion doesn't look very good..."

"I know, I tried to maintain it as much as possible, but it still doesn't seem to be the right way, it's only stable for fifteen minutes more than usual-don't worry, just don't forget to pay..."

The young guard accepted the report letter almost in a daze, and before the other party completely collapsed, he finally remembered a question: "Sir, what's your name?"

"A zealous heretic..."

...

Homeless, in the captain's room, Duncan came back to his senses and let out a long breath.

His main consciousness returned to the ship.

The goat's head on the edge of the nautical table reacted immediately, and immediately turned to this side: "Ah, Your Excellency the great captain—it seems that you have gained a lot?"

"I heard useful information from a group of cult members who were gathering in secret. Unfortunately, the time is too short to confirm which city-state it is, and whether there are other gathering places near them," Duncan breathed out and raised his hand. He started to rub his eyebrows vigorously, "But it's not a big problem, I think we will continue to deal with them soon..."

On the wall not far away, layers of shadows floated on the surface of the simple oval mirror. Agatha's figure emerged from the mirror, looking at Duncan curiously: "Are you okay? You look a little tired?"

"I just tried a relatively new method of avatar control, and I'm not used to it," Duncan waved his hand. "It seems that schizophrenia is really not something that can be tried casually. Maybe I have the opportunity to ask Heidi for advice." ...How could she divide dozens of them at once without getting confused?"

Agatha: "...?"

But Duncan didn't continue on this topic, he frowned slightly soon, and began to recall and sort out the information he had just obtained from "afar".

Originally thought it was just an ordinary dream invasion, thought it was just a weird nightmare phenomenon, thought that the appearance of those cultists was just an accident... but unexpectedly, behind this incident suddenly revealed a shadow beyond everyone's imagination.

"The Dream of the Nameless..." Duncan raised his head in thought, looking at Agatha in the mirror and the goat's head on the table, "Have you heard of this term?"