Monument of Life and Death

  Chapter 311 Glass Church

  "Kill Meng Fuling..." Meng Zecheng's gaze was stunned, and he smiled relievedly, "Yes...it's time to kill..."

  Meng Zecheng's hollow eyes moved down, and a pale smile appeared behind the knife in Xiaolan's hand.

   "He's damned," Meng Zecheng nodded at Xiaolan, "I don't blame you."

  The throat is blocked, and I can't speak.

  Xiaolan's hands squeezed the handle of the knife firmly, making her fingers white.

  Nose, eyes, and chest are all sore.

  The heart thumps and thumps, as if about to jump out.

  Meng Zecheng approached.

  He came to Xiaolan.

   "Ah--" Meng Ze was smelling something like an image, showing an intoxicated expression, "Xiaoxiao is nearby."

  Xiaolan closed her eyes hard to prevent the tears from rolling out.

   Breath, temperature.

  Living heart.

  Blade.

  Xiaolan raises his hand.

  噗——

  The warm liquid splashed on his face.

  Meng Zecheng’s warmth is gone.

  It was cold all around.

   "Xiaolan!"

   "Xiaolan!——"

"what--"

  The voice of the companions is in my ears.

   Xiaolan opened her eyes sharply.

  Meng Fuling still pressed himself under him, his face leaning at a position no more than a few centimeters away from him.

  In his mouth, gurgling blood continued to gush out.

  Meng Fuling looked at Xiaolan in disbelief, and then at his chest.

  The strength returned to the body, Xiaolan pulled out his arm and swung Meng Fuling away.

  Meng Fuling fell to the side, looking at the dagger stuck in the middle of his chest, as if watching a joke.

   Xiaolan quickly got up, feeling a pain in his heart again, and then lowered his head to realize that the injury just now was indeed on him.

  The iron cords on the companions snapped loose.

  Qin Yin was wounded all over his body, dripping with blood, and fainted on Xiaolan's leg, unconscious.

   "It's impossible..." Meng Fuling shook his head, his mouth was full of blood, and he couldn't say clearly. "It's impossible...I won't die...I can't die..."

  "You will die," a weak voice suddenly sounded in the corner, "I'm dead, you're dead..."

  Meng Zecheng woke up.

  He clutched his chest, blood dripping from between his fingers.

  Meng Fuling looked at him, opened his mouth, and spit out another mouthful of blood.

  Dao Chang limped to Xiaolan's side, looking down at Meng Fuling.

   "I won't give you another chance this time." The Taoist said, stretching out his **** hand and covering Meng Fuling's face.

"what!--"

  Meng Fuling's scream was gradually covered by the crackling burning sound, and soon, he turned into a flurry of flying ash, without a trace.

  In this world, there is no longer Meng Fuling.

   Xiaolan flushed his eyes and touched the wound on his chest. The blood had stopped, but the heartbeat was still violent.

  Thump thump thump thump...

  Pump Plop Plop Plop Plop Plop Plop Plop Plop...

   is getting faster and faster.

   Xiaolan pinched the clothes on her chest and found it difficult to breathe.

   Like a force, pulling oneself.

  She took a step.

  The heart is pulling in the direction of Meng Zecheng.

   "Xiao Lan," the poison on the fool's body was also removed. Seeing that she was in a wrong state, he quickly supported her shoulder, "What's wrong? Are you okay..."

  "How could it be okay?" Maple Sugar took the cloth strips handed over in February and March, and was about to help Xiaolan bandage, but found it inconvenient.

  Xiaolan approached Meng Zecheng step by step.

  Meng Zecheng’s life disappeared little by little.

  He opened his eyes wide and tried to look at her.

  In Xiaolan's body, there seemed to be voices hissing.

  Meng Zecheng blinked, as if seeing something unexpected.

   "Xiaoxiao?"

  Wow——

   Anxiety, shouting, and strange power broke out in an instant.

   Xiaolan clearly saw that from the position of his chest, a group of translucent mist appeared, and went towards Meng Zecheng.

   "You haven't disappeared." Xiaolan stared at Xiaoxiao's last touch of Lingxi.

  Under the mist, Meng Zecheng smiled and closed his eyes.

   "I'm waiting for him."

  The fog disappeared.

  Meng Zecheng curled up in a pool of his own blood.

  It's cold.

   "They left together." The Taoist said softly.

   Xiaolan nodded, feeling as if she was not so sad anymore.

  Looking down, the wound is healing quickly, and even the slight sound of tissue regeneration can be heard.

  It turns out that the recovery speed of the body slowed down during this period because I used the heart of others.

   "Let's go forward." The fool hugged Qin Yin and said.

  Baomu also woke up slowly, seeing that everything was over, thinking that he was dreaming.

   "Go forward?" San Yue asked Maple Sugar timidly.

  Dao Chang smiled, "Are you afraid?"

  This question refers to February and March.

  March glanced at her brother.

   replied in February, “I’m afraid there’s no way. Until now, we have to see the king and god, even if we die...we have to see him.”

   "You will not die," Maple Sugar said heavily, "None of us will die."

  A few people walked into the darkness.

  The road gets narrower and narrower, like entering a dark cave.

   Just as a few people began to consider whether they had gone the wrong way, their eyes suddenly opened up, and they suddenly stepped into a rotunda.

  The hall is surrounded by glass walls, the walls are white, but there is no light coming through the windows, the dome is extremely high, and there seems to be something painted on the black gold dome. It is too far to see clearly.

  The hall is neatly divided into left and right parts, with rows of black wooden benches placed on each side, much like the layout of a church.

  The light in the hall comes from a small podium more than one meter high erected in the middle of the room.

  Here...is the king’s lair?

  A few people stepped into the hall one after another, turned their heads, the entrance was gone when they came.

  The dead door is the door that cannot be turned back.

  Bai Su suddenly pointed to the bench on the right.

   "There!" she yelled softly.

  The light is dim at the extreme edge of the first row of benches. After reminding them, several people found that there seemed to be a person sitting there.

   is a man.

  He lowered his head, his shoulders drooped, and the faint light vaguely outlined a thin and depressed back.

  Could it be that...

  Xiaolan looked at each other with excitement, but his expression was very serious.

  I couldn't hold back in February and March, and I wanted to rush up at that time, but I was held tightly by Maple Sugar.

   "No," Baomu frowned and sniffed, "The smell here is not right."

   "What's the smell here?" Maple syrup asked hurriedly.

   Baomu's eyes were sharp, "There is a smell of necromantic prison here."

  "Necromancer is nearby?" The fool changed his arms and hugged Qin Yin.

  Baomu closed his eyes and smelled it carefully, then opened his eyes, stretched out his right hand, and pointed at the man on the bench, "It's the smell of him."

  A few people didn't react, the Taoist leader ran over first.

   "Sure enough," he ran diagonally behind the man and said to his companion, "This is a dead man."

  The man leaned on the back of the chair, his arms were tied to the edge of the chair, his head was hanging low, and the flesh on his face had been rotten for more than half.

  (End of this chapter)