I will be crowned king

Anson, whose face moved slightly, looked in the direction of the voice. A man wearing a brown hooded robe with the original ring pattern on his face was staring at him with a bit of ridicule in his expression:

"Why, you don't really think that you have received the oracle of the true god, the privilege granted by the Tower of Originality, right? Ha...hahaha...haha...hahaha, it's not like you can't say that..."

"It's just not the privilege of a trial, but the privilege of being imprisoned and dying!"

"All the true believers of Boridim, as long as they disobey the apostles' wishes in the slightest, or are simply dissatisfied by them, if they do not participate in the trial of the Original Tower, they will be awarded this 'privilege'."

"Most fools will agree immediately without thinking. Only a few people with some brains will think about it seriously - but it's useless, because if you dare to refuse, the apostles will personally take action and turn you into a creature of blood and pus. Part of the fog!”

"Lock all the restless elements into the original tower, let them fight each other, risk their lives to pass impossible traps, and then call it a 'trial' - this is how Boridim prospers, is stable and harmonious the truth!"

"Looking at your expression, you must be the kind of lucky person who thinks you are so glorious and worthy of pride, right? Hahahahahaha...ahhahahahaha...hahaha..."

The man was laughing hysterically, as if he was a prisoner bound by infinite malice, roaring at the sky in despair.

Anson stood there silently, looking around at the surrounding environment and structures.

He came in through the "door" opened by the tomb keeper, which meant that this place, like the Grand Corridor Hall and the Alchemy Room, was part of a twisted realm, and at the same time, he was bound inside the original tower, because he didn't feel it. To the breath of blood and pus mist.

Could this conversely prove that the entire original tower was a huge twisted field, and what he saw outside was just an illusion created by some kind of black magic or curse magic?

Just as he was thinking wildly, the laughter gradually stopped.

"What, are you scared to death, or... are you mute?" The man continued to mock, perhaps because he didn't get a response, he sounded a little annoyed and impatient:

"Great, those bastards have started to spare even the mute; will the next step be to arrest a few more blind men and accuse them of peeking into the secrets of the Original Tower..."

"Excuse me, which floor of the Original Tower is this?"

Before he could finish complaining, Anson stepped forward and said, "Also, when will the first round of trials start?"

The man who was intercepted was angry at first, and then stood there with his eyes wide open for a long time. It took more than half a minute before he reacted:

"Pfft! Pfft...ha...hahahaha...uh ah hahaha...hahahahaha...!!!!"

"This, this fool...he...he was sent in without knowing anything!"

"Pfft hahahaha... The original ring is above. How can there be such a pure fool in the world who dares to come in without knowing anything about the original tower? Do you think you are some kind of 'oracle', huh?!"

"Hahaha...haha...ah, I can't do it anymore, I can't do it...it's so...so amazing...it's so amazing...ah hahahahahaha..."

The man kept laughing wildly, and began to shake wildly as if he couldn't control his body. He held his stomach and rolled over and over on the steps.

After a long while, he finally climbed up from the stairs and said while wiping his tears: "Okay, I tell you, I tell you, this is the original tower, but it is not anything you know. One floor—if I have to say it, it’s probably one and a half floors!”

"The first floor is the Evolver Hall, a large cloister hall and a variety of messy institutions. It is the place where tombkeepers and department heads who work for big plans often go. Most people have reached this level. .”

"The two to six floors above that are where we unlucky guys and fools will participate in the 'trial', or go to jail." The man breathed softly, his calmer voice still carrying a sarcastic smile. : "The seventh floor on the top is the legendary territory of the apostles. No one knows what the secrets are."

"As for this place... it does not belong to any level of the Original Tower. It is just a twisted area forcibly opened by the tombkeepers for us prisoners to have a place to rest before we go to die."

"After every trial, you will come back here and wait for the next trial call - I know what you are thinking, as long as you stay here, you will be safe, right?"

"It's useless! Every time a trial starts, at least one evolver must participate, otherwise the entire twisted field will collapse instantly. Unless you are strong enough to be at the apostle level to resist the collapse, you will be crushed into dregs along with the field! "

The moment the words fell, the brazier in the center of the podium in the hall suddenly lit up with dark purple flames, and the strange light shook the devil-like shadow.

"And that is the signal for the trial to begin." The man stared into Anson's eyes, with a hint of playfulness in his smile:

"One hundred breaths... within one hundred ordinary deep breaths, one of us must walk through the door and kill the unlucky guy who participated in the trial with you, otherwise we will all die."

Anson looked at the dancing fire without saying a word, then turned back and glanced at the man who was still sitting there with no sign of getting up.

"Don't look at me, I will never go in - either you go or we die together, I really don't care!" Facing Anson's gaze, the man grinned and said:

"You still have...hey, ninety deep breaths. If you don't hurry up, you will be buried with me!"

While talking, the man did not forget to hum an unknown tune, showing no signs of caring at all.

There was a sudden chill all over my body, my calves were shaking slightly, and my palms were so wet that they started to sweat...

Anson narrowed his eyes slightly, turned around without speaking, and walked up the stairs to the door directly in front of the podium; while walking down the stairs, the man's cynicism kept ringing behind him:

"That's right, go ahead...go and die to your heart's content, and see how glorious the 'privilege' granted to you by the Three True Gods is..."

"A stupid idiot like you will never understand how pathetic you are unless you see the cruelty of the truth..."

"I was tricked into this and thought I was such a glorious fool...ah hahaha...hahahahaha...hahahaha...hahahahaha..."

"boom!"

The slamming of the door interrupted the man's wild laughter.

Letting go of the disappearing door, the expressionless Anson quickly looked around at his new surroundings.

There is flat ground under your feet, and there are no obstacles blocking the view nearby; there is no light, but it doesn't feel particularly dark - except for the virtual darkness at the outermost periphery, the visibility is almost 100%.

This kind of occasion is really suitable as a gladiatorial arena.

And while Anson was looking around, the figure walking out of the darkness on the opposite side was also looking at him.

"Hey, why can't I feel any breath at all?"

The caster, who was wearing a robe similar to Anson's and covered most of his face with a mask, frowned slightly and said in a daze: "You, you dare to participate in the trial before you have mastered any evolutionary path... "

Before he finished speaking, he saw an afterimage rushing towards him with the thick fog surging wantonly!

The caster, whose expression suddenly changed, did not dare to neglect, and suddenly blocked his right hand in front of him. The ordinary arm expanded and transformed at a speed visible to the naked eye, turning into a giant claw half a meter in diameter, full of veins and barbs.

"boom--!"

With just a slight grab, the giant claws and the dissipated smoke left traces of knives and axes on the ground. Almost at the same time, the caster saw Anson, who was supposed to be torn into pieces by himself, leaping over his head, holding the gun in the corner of his mouth. The strange pipe is still pouring out thick mist rich in magical reactions.

So, what is that? And why can't I feel his aura at all? Is this guy a black mage?

The caster was full of suspicion, but he did not hesitate at all - his left arm that suddenly began to twitch crazily shattered like ceramic, and tiny tentacles spewed out from the end of the arm, attacking Anson who was about to land.

"Puff puff--!"

The tentacles full of mucus and barbs roared in the ears, tearing the air. The expressionless Anson frantically moved and dodged. He was only a few centimeters away and could directly open cracks on the ground. The mucus could also corrode the soil. tentacle.

At the same time, the caster, who was gradually surrounded by thick fog, continued to mutate. His rapidly expanding legs changed from bending backwards to bending forwards, and sharp claws grew out of the exploded boots. A vein started to spread from the mutated part to the whole body like a squirming python.

Standing motionless, he stared coldly at Anson, who was being chased by his own probing attack and moving around continuously. His inner uneasiness became more and more serious - he obviously couldn't feel any magic aura, but it was mutated due to the blood magic pathway. His enhanced intuition kept warning him that this guy was dangerous.

Although it is not clear what the reason is, the caster does not intend to delay it any longer and is preparing to end this deadly battle with the next blow.

Just when Anson, who had escaped the tentacle attack, tried to get closer through the smoke, the caster's swollen right arm suddenly made a fist, hitting the incoming figure like a battering ram.

"Boom!"

Amidst the loud bang that shook the eardrums, the caster's feet clung to the ground, and using only the inertia of his arms and the twisting power of his waist, he fired a blow that was comparable to a six-pound infantry cannon.

The terrifying force whipped up the strong wind and blew away the surrounding smoke, revealing the figure that was hit by him.

The expressionless Anson stood only three steps away from him, the howling wind blowing his hair wantonly, revealing a pair of dark brown, extremely calm eyes.

The caster's pupils suddenly shrank.

It wasn't just that he was hit by his full strength but escaped unscathed, but at the moment of his attack, the opponent, who was no different from ordinary people, exuded an extremely powerful magical aura.

With the pipe in his mouth, he held his right hand upright, only a few centimeters away from his right paw... But it happened that these few centimeters formed an insurmountable chasm, blocked by the barrier formed by the thick fog.

This... he, how on earth did he do it... His whole body was penetrated by countless "smoke spears", and his left arm tentacles were nailed to the spot. The pupils of the caster were shaking violently, and his face was full of disbelief.

Gently blowing out a smoke ring, Anson backed up while maintaining the effect of [Smoke Entertainer]; the caster who immediately realized what he wanted to do began to show a panic expression:

"No, no, no, no... don't do it, I surrender! I am willing to surrender! Don't kill me, I don't want to die... I... I..."

He struggled desperately, enduring the pain of being torn open by the "smoke spear" and desperately begging for mercy. The blood flowing out had accumulated in a thick pool under his body, and his whole body was soaked in dark red.

Seemingly moved by the other party's sincerity, Anson silently took away the pipe from the corner of his mouth; almost at the same time, the "smoke spear" inserted all over the caster's body began to loosen, showing signs of dissipating.

But just when the caster was about to show his joy, Anson, who seemed to be soft-hearted, snapped his fingers.

Cursed magic, [Rising Fire].

"boom--!!!!"

The golden-red flames directly ignited the caster's body, and the smoke that was released from the "smoke spear" was immediately transformed into "smoke flames", burning crazily under the effect of the rising fire.

The fire light dissipated, leaving only charred flesh and blood on the ground.

After repeatedly confirming that the opponent's magic reaction had disappeared, Ansen finally let out a sigh of relief before dispelling [Yan Yujia].

Of course he knows how powerful he is. The only reason why he can succeed is that the evolvers of this time and space don't know the "stealth" technique - because they don't need to master it at all - if they believe the other party's begging for mercy, they will become flesh now. It's you who should be the one to blame.

A few minutes later, a door that was exactly the same as before appeared behind him without any warning; and the body that had turned into charcoal on the ground also disappeared without a trace.

Sure enough, the people who participated in the trial must be killed to complete the trial... Ansen frowned slightly and thought to himself, walking towards the gate without looking back.

Pushing open the door, the familiar staircase hall appeared in front of us again, but this time it was no longer from directly behind and the lecture hall, but from a corner of the stands.

Slowly raising his head, he saw that the man who had entered the door was sitting opposite him, as if he had seen something beyond the scope of his understanding, his wide eyes almost falling out of his sockets.

He froze in place in shock at first, and then raised his right hand tremblingly, pointing at the uninjured Anson with his unstretched index finger. His long mouth seemed to want to say something, but no sound came out.

"What, are you scared out of your wits?" Facing his gaze, Anson raised the corner of his mouth slightly:

"Or...are you mute?"