Orc Tyrant

In addition to the eight elders, the room was also full of towering butchers, as well as various mutants of high-level believers.

The deputies hover around the chairs of their elders like eagles. Their roles are not informal or permanent, but are derived from the continuation of the ancient discipleship tradition of blood worship—that is, an elder expects to have what he can trust behind him. People.

According to the regulations, as the most senior person in the Eight-pointed Star Council, the elders of the Silent Star stalked the outer edge of the Eight-pointed Star Council, as if to outline a spiritual protection zone.

In this room, this gathering has not been seen for several years, but more than half of the space is still vacant.

The bishops and attendants, the butchers and the rebels, all crowded towards the lighting column of the curved chair, like refugees in a war crowded towards the crackling flames, and no one dared to sit on the chair that was still empty. .

Charles Manson looked at every face, especially those who echoed a hundred responses, and divided everyone into factions in the upcoming debate.

Some of them are very clear.

For example, Colin Bartley, the elder of the Silent Star.

Others are not easy to guess.

Locheri may be Manson's favorite, but he is not someone else's minion, the two of them are more cooperative.

Only that Luosen was an out-and-out thorn.

Molière's attitude is the most difficult to guess. According to legend, he is a moody person. The only thing he knows is that the ancient warrior in the blood armor will never bow his head to anyone.

At the same time, Morvalis, the temptress of the Blood Girl sect, has the character of being a rudder.

"Obviously, the patriarch doesn't seem to want to come here."

After a while, Manson whispered.

Others also murmured, not like a sound, but more like an expected tremor, soft and calm.

"Where is he?"

Brigadier General Morvalis asked, looking around, as if the supreme ruler of the blood worship would appear from the shadows.

"The patriarch is thinking."

Charles Manson said.

"He is worried."

Colin Bartley corrected the other's words, but did not raise his gaze staring at the floor.

This statement did not cause a gasp of denial, as it might have been six months ago.

"Since the fall of the great elder of the Diocese of Tyre, he has stopped visiting the Eight-pointed Star Council."

Elon said, getting bold by Colin Bartley's candid comments.

"But I looked for him in his private room."

Manson's words made everyone's eyes turn to him.

"And I."

Bartley added, and then the two elders exchanged their eyes, their chairs facing each other at the end of the eight-chair arc.

Manson nodded first, because someone wanted to speak after a while, and Bartley nodded in response.

The old rules of negotiation are reflected here. After all, it is not proper to see the most senior elders of the council arguing here.

"We didn't find him."

"Neither will you."

Locheri's voice was like a tendon stretched on a stone mill.

"If he wants to hide, he won't find it."

"Why does he want to hide?"

Rocheri asked, his hands folded, his fingers interlaced on the table.

"Why doesn't he want to see the world of false gods burning?"

"Because it is not us who is burning it, but the green monsters."

Manson said sharply, then took a deep breath, adjusted himself with a more calm tone, and continued.

"Those despicable animals have launched fierce revenge because of their contempt. This is the end. Looking at every inch of land they destroy, so much blood is not dedicated to the blood god, it is the proof of our failure."

Hearing this, Luosen, who had always been unsmiling, suddenly looked sad.

They invested a lot of blood and hard work in this way of extinction, but these hard work was ruthlessly crushed by Ouke, and they were almost in vain.

"After the patriarch joins us, let's start this debate."

"He won't join us."

The elder of the silent star suddenly mumbled.

This was the first time he had spoken since sitting down, and the other elders immediately looked at him for explanation.

But he just shrugged and did not respond.

"Are we going to start without him?"

Bartley said, and he stood up, echoes of footsteps echoing through the room as he paced.

"It must be so."

"agree."

"agree."

After all the elders approved, the elder of the Silent Star also nodded.

The real silence fell in the assembly.

It was not the power of Manson or Bartley that calmed them temporarily, but a tense grasp of the weight of the decision they had to make.

Usually, such a decision should fall into the hands of the patriarch, because what is being debated here will determine the destiny of the cult and the destiny of mankind itself.

"Then a decision must be made."

Manson announced.

"Either continue the ceremony or give up immediately, and everyone evacuates Dunwich."

Before he finished speaking, Locheri cleared his throat nervously.

As the chief intelligence officer within the order, he is a calm and focused person with a diligent and low-key command style, but he has to admit that standing in such a rare and highly influential assembly must make him a little nervous.

But as the "opening" of this rally, this is his duty and right.

Rocheri stepped forward, bowed down on one knee to the empty throne of the patriarch, and then the clothes of the people who had not yet sat rustled, and they all knelt with him.

Those who were allowed to carry arms drew their weapons amid the scraping of steel, and their tips stood on the floor.

It is common in the past to gather high-ranking slayers and chosen lords to hold such secret meetings before the war, but these days it is very rare. It seems that the patriarch will feel more uncomfortable when accompanied by everyone.

He became more like isolation, only summoning a small number of senior leaders at a time, or more inclined to one-on-one.

"Elders, adults, soldiers of the Blood God."

Locheri paused, lowered his head before the brassy imprint of the blood god, as if praying for courage, then stood up and turned around.

At the same time, everyone who kneeled in the room also got up at the same time, and those who pulled out their weapons also recovered their murder weapons.

"Since 8:56 today, the ceremony of Brass Gate has completed 80% of the project schedule."

The priests applauded respectfully, the soldiers applauded loudly, Manson was tapping the wooden mat of the chair with his knuckles, and Bartley hit the edge of the table with the round handle of his sheathed sword.

This is far inferior to the cheers of the twelfth Great Jihad victory nine weeks ago.

At that time, they all witnessed the death and destruction of the oldest church of Kaimon Church in the Old World, and experienced the joy of revenge.

It is very different now.

In the end, the goal became dim, like a once-clear water pool, revealing the silt deposited under it due to the agitation of the prey.

The goal of the Order is to establish a stable channel so that the Legion of the Blood God can attack the enemy unscrupulously. At that time, the entire world will become a ruby ​​on the Crown of the Blood God, and all the believers will enter the realm of the Blood God in glory. , Get eternal sublimation.