Stray

    Nemo knew very well that at this moment they should remain calm and take up the conversation calmly. The truth is the truth, and it is much harder to do it yourself. He brewed for a long time, and finally had to bite the bullet and say "um".

    The superior demon in human skin smiles brighter.

    "A friend of Mr. Edwards?" The bishop was a slightly fat, kind-hearted old man. He was grinning, his face was ruddy, and he looked beaming.

    "One side," said the demon, looking away from Nemo. "Then I won't bother you for now, Lord Bishop. I will consider what you said."

    The bishop nodded with satisfaction, "May the glory of Tsinny always shine on you, dear Mr. Edwards—you two, please come with me."

    The devil accepted the blessing calmly, and the smile on his face did not change. The bishop stepped into the room first, Oliver took a breath, and followed. And just as Nemo was about to follow, the voice of "Cahill" sounded from behind him—

    "What an outsider." He said softly, "If you want to know about Ed, it would be nice to ask me directly."

    He winked at Nemo, and for a few seconds his right eye was not an ordinary eyeball - countless pupil-like things flowed over the red eyeball, squeezing and merging with each other. Nemo nearly vomited, and he slammed back into the room, slammed the door, and then pushed his back against it—like a thin wooden door could withstand a superior demon.

    It's just a piece of flesh and blood from a superior demon. He tried desperately to comfort himself in his heart that Cahill, like Baglmore, was just a piece of flesh and blood, and they were not yet desperate.

    When he calmed down and looked up, he found Bishop and Oliver staring at him.

    "Your friend...is really unstable." The room was divided into two parts by a silver railing, and the bishop opened the small metal door and sat on the leather chair opposite the railing. Behind him is a spacious window, and the afterglow of the setting sun has added a golden outline to the fat old man, which looks a bit sacred.

    The old man snapped his fingers. The other side of the railing—the ceiling, the ground, the surrounding walls, including the wooden door they just passed through, were all sealed tightly by thin silver fences, and the two were instantly locked in a silver cage.

    "Don't be nervous, children." The bishop looked at the livid faces of the two and reassured them. "It's a routine that saves us a lot of trouble. Your friend might be in a little pain next time, boy, sit down first." He turned his head to Oliver.

    Oliver didn't have time to ask what "a little pain" was, when the wall on one side slowly slid open, revealing a huge holy emblem - the center of the triangle formed by three feathers was no longer blank, but Using silver wire as the strokes, a complex array was cast. A white dot the size of a fingernail was embedded in the center of the circle, and it was shimmering silver under the effect of the circle.

    Nimo naturally noticed that too, but he didn't suffer any form of pain. He stared at the gleaming white dot and stretched out his hand like a charm.

    Even with the back light, Oliver could see the Bishop frowning. He hurriedly unleashed his charm - thank goodness, the bishop's clenched brows relaxed. The expression on his face turned blank.

    "Don't touch!" After confirming that there was no problem, Oliver immediately warned.

    Nimo came back to his senses instantly. He stared at the dot in confusion for a moment, then withdrew his hand and turned his gaze back to the bishop.

    "Please... um, please tell us everything you know about Adrian Cross." Although the charm was activated smoothly, Oliver's voice was still a little uncomfortable.

    "He's a filthy traitor, a hateful heretic." The bishop said in an unwavering voice, "A man who will do anything for status."

    "How?" Oliver asked.

    "Adrian Close and Mr. Edwards were friends who grew up together," said the bishop, "and I have to admit that he was a genius that was hard to ignore from a young age - His Majesty the Pope at that time. Even praised him as 'the radiant grace' 'the morning star'. We trusted him, taught him, loved him from the bottom of our hearts, and believed he was the man of miracles foretold. And he ruined everything!"

    Even in a state of being charmed, the bishop's breathing was still rapid.

    "He lost all his mana after the battle of Kandal. If I say he did something absolutely blasphemous, I've never heard of anyone whose grace can be completely Disappeared—but even then, that old fellow Mercer trusted him and didn't kick him out! He even allowed that heretic to stay and work at the Inquisition, which is ridiculous."

    "But a heresy is a heresy, and he won't even live for two years - he must have found himself unable to regain his strength, unable to bear his low status, and delusionally find other shortcuts to climb up. The heresy actually falsely accused him of Dear friend, our hero Mr. Edwards is a superior demon - oh, Danny is just, he certainly won't let that **** **** get away with it. Mr. Edwards' innocence is impeccable, and instead we found the devil in that perfidious villain The engraving, how ironic."

    "Mr. Edwards even interceded for him, but the heresy didn't appreciate it at all. He was determined not to take back his lies, and he refused to mention a word about the engraving, probably still fantasizing Someday it will work. I personally hope he dies in the dungeon, of course, Chenni must have his own arrangements - there will be no filth left in Chenni's glory."

    The bishop's anger almost overwhelmed the calming effect of the charm spell, and Nemo couldn't help but be surprised - I have to say, according to the bishop's words, Mr. Cross seems to be with the judge knight in Ankou's mouth There is a considerable difference in length.

    "No...nothing else?" Oliver tried his best to keep his voice dignified.

    "Except for the fact that he will decay in the dungeon? No more." The bishop's tone was mixed with the hatred of the betrayed.

    There is less information than they thought. Nemo sighed silently and nudged Oliver with his elbow. "Ask him what that thing is - I don't feel the slightest bit uncomfortable right now. If I don't figure it out, I may be exposed later after you lift the spell."

    "What is that?" Oliver pointed at the huge sacred emblem with kindness.

    "The skull fragment of the previous demon king Ulysses." The old man's tone returned to calm, "Before the skull was lost, His Majesty the Pope just took off a piece - a very effective weapon against demons. Even if the superior demon comes in person, it will feel uncomfortable. Unfortunately, the skull has been lost for too long, and its residual magic power is thinning day by day, and now it can only suppress the demon warlock at best."

    Nimo took another look at the small bone fragment, only to feel that his hand was itchy. He obeyed his heart—he reached over the silver railing and poked it carefully.

    It turns out that some things can't be touched for their own reason - it seems that a sharp ice pick ripped open his skull and slammed through the back of his head. Nemo shook his head sharply, hissing cold air from his mouth. Oliver gave him a disapproving look.

    "What were you going to do with us?" he asked.

    "Put the shackles on the black-haired child and begin preparations for the ceremony. He has an evening to embrace his family and lovers with his hands - I will invite the nobles at sunrise tomorrow to They sacrificed to Zeni."

    Nimo rubbed his forehead and was about to stand up when Oliver pressed his head down again.

    "What are you doing?" he asked in dissatisfaction.

    Oliver did not answer him, "What is the holy flail?" He returned to his usual cautious style, and the question was much smoother. "What is its effect?"

    "The sacred **** which the deni bestows upon us, it makes it impossible for sinners to cast spells. If it is not lifted by the hands of those recognized by the Holy See within the time limit, its radiance will burn the body of sinners."

    "What kind of unlucky thing is that—!" Nemo squatted on the ground and cried, "Isn't Ann too reassuring for us, is this really okay?"

    "Are there any usage restrictions?" Oliver asked.

    "It only works on demons and humans below the strength of a demon warlock."

    "...not the same! What if I'm really just a demon believer-"

    "I could insinuate him to think he'd put the shackles on you, but I couldn't charm everyone in the church at the same time...that might leave holes. Nemo, You decide. Are you willing to trust Ann?" Oliver said very seriously, "I have no right to choose for you."

    Nimo held his head and took a few deep breaths.

    "Come on." He gritted his teeth, "It's nothing compared to Pandora."

    Oliver nodded. He called the bishop to the railing and patted the old man on the arm.

    The old man glanced at Nemo, who was squatting on the ground, and his expression became more natural.

      "What a lucky boy, God will surely smile at you."

    Nemo laughed dryly.

    "Come, stretch out your hand." The old man smiled, "It's just a small restraint, don't worry - but please remember, be sure to come back here before sunrise tomorrow, otherwise it will It will cost you your life. You must not turn your back on God, do you?"

    Nemo exhaled a long breath and stretched out his hands - dazzling white light poured from the old man's fingertips, twisted into two thin glowing chains, and wrapped around his arms. The silver fence slowly closed, and the bishop even took a few steps forward and gave Nemo a hug. "May Chenni's glory live forever."

    "...May Denni ignore me completely." When they walked out of the church, Nemo scratched the chain on his arm and sighed bitterly.

    An Zheng was leaning against a marble statue of an angel, and its wings blocked most of the female warrior figure, and they almost didn't find her.

    She raised her eyebrows at the chain of light on Nemo's arm, "I can't tell, you two are quite obedient."

    Nimo rolled his eyes at her. "You'd better tell me you have a way to fix this," he waved his arms pitifully. "I don't want to go back to that shit."

    Ann smiled. She softly recited the tongue-in-cheek incantations, then tore them apart with ease—the chains of light turned into blobs of light that slowly dissipated in the air. "Look - Nemo, if I really wanted to kill you, I wouldn't do it in such a roundabout way."

    Oliver pursed his lips and gave her a deep look.

    "I wonder why I know how to unlock the spell?" Ann clearly understood Oliver's eyes, "Don't worry, who didn't click on it?"

    "You're not like a Rad."

    "It's a long story." An cleared his throat, "...so I decided not to talk about it."

    "But—"

    "If the time comes, I won't hide it from you two - Nemo!" Her joking words turned into an exclamation.

    Nimo fell silently. Oliver responded quickly, grabbing the back of Nemo's neck, preventing him from hitting the base of the marble statue. He tried to wake Nemo up, but the dark-haired youth closed his eyes and breathed slowly, as if he had fallen into a deep sleep, with no response.

    "The holy flail definitely doesn't have this effect," An whispered, "Take him back to the hotel first."

    Nemo had a dream.

    It was darkness at first, then he heard someone singing.

    Although he prefers to be quiet at the moment, for the sake of the singing, he decides to put up with it. The singer was a young man, his palms cold and sweaty - for some reason, he was taking the man's hand and advancing in the darkness.

    "I'd like to follow you, walk through the ruins and gunpowder—" the youth hummed, "Sandra, Sandra. The dew on the tombstone is shining... Forget it, This is not very lucky."

    "You can shut up." Nemo suggested unkindly that the voice didn't sound like himself - it sounded fantastic, and while it was Common, it was by no means a human voice.

    "It's too quiet here." The young man replied, "It's so quiet that it makes people nervous."

    Nimo was silent for a while, then opened his mouth tentatively. "Are not you afraid?"

    "My love and companions are still waiting for me - I am so happy, I will definitely survive! Hey I tell you, my fiancee she..."

    "Enough, shut up." Nemo heard himself interrupting the youth, "You've said it nineteen times!"

    "Make it all together." The young man's voice was a little aggrieved.

    "Not far." Nemo changed the subject. "Human, do you really have the confidence to kill the Demon King?"

    "Maybe." The young man replied, the joy in his voice was gone. "To be honest, since I got here, I've been thinking—"

    “…you answer my question first.”

    "If everyone does their best...can."

    "Then I have a request," Nemo heard himself say, "cut off its head and bring out the abyss—so the abyss can sleep longer, just what you want."

    "But according to legend, once its corpse touched the ground it would..."

    "That's because the warriors before were too useless." The wonderful voice continued, "Your magic power is amazing - as long as you keep wrapping its head with pure magic power, its head will not Devoured by the abyss. Your magic should be enough."

    "But you...are you a rogue? Isn't the Demon King your kind, why tell me this?"

    "You don't need to know."

    "...I see the lights of the team! Thank you very much, kind wanderer." The youth cheered, "God, I don't know how to express my gratitude, why don't I give you this —If you have a chance to go to the ground, you can find me with this, and then we can talk again."

    He shoved something into Nemo's palm.

    "It's a life saver after all... My name is Flint Lopez and I look forward to seeing you again. Do you have anything else to wish for? If I can—"

    "I want to take a look at the surface, and that's enough—but that's not something you can do, human."

    Nemo sat up from the bed suddenly, not because of a dream, but because of a bit of coldness. He found himself lying on the soft bed of the hotel, and it was late at night—Oliver was lying beside his bed, fast asleep.

    He grabbed Oliver who was still asleep and rolled to the ground. A giant sword swept across the place where Oliver was lying, and then pierced the mattress neatly and inserted into the ground.

    "Alertness is good." A deep voice came from the darkness, "Why...you could have died more happily."

    The light of teleportation magic lit up, and around them was no longer a comfortable hotel room, but a vast desert. A tall man stood in front of them, his whole body covered in dark armor. He casually threw the grey parrot, who was still talking in his sleep, into the cold sand, and raised his great sword again—

    "Farewell, boys."

    (m..=)