Alien Knights

stop!

The old man in a gray monk's robe grabbed the iron whip in the hands of the assailant, and glared at the tall man in black.

A monster made of huge pieces of flesh, with wounds all over its body, crawled under the old man's feet, with both hands hugging his thighs.

Myris, mission failures will always receive some punishment. Is it any wonder? Throat sat on a stone chair deep in the cave, resting his chin on his right hand, looked at the interesting pair of father and son, and said with a smile: If it weren't for the fact that some guests came here a few days ago, the president would have dismantled your disobedient son and reassembled it again.

The throat bone looked at the monster on the ground, and said slowly: But in general, this time it can be regarded as some gains. At least the president's plan to use corpses and Sutherland relics to cultivate Heirs of the Dead is a big step forward.

Master Meris propped up the monster's body with his thin shoulders, looked at the larynx and said, Harvest? You call this a harvest?! You told me beforehand that this was just a small experiment, but more than half of the residents of Overwatch Town died! Most of them died!!

The man sighed slightly, turned his head back, facing the top of the rock mass in the cave, half annoyed, half helpless, and shouted loudly: Myris, Myris! We have discussed this issue countless times!

Throat Bone stood up from the stone chair, shrank his hands and feet, and said in a pretentious manner: Why do you want to kill people? Peace is so beautiful, these people are innocent, and he is just a child...

Listen, if you want to grow wheat on a field overgrown with weeds, you have to set fire to the weeds first; if you want to build a magnificent palace next to a crumbling hut, you will have to knock down the dangerous building first. The man said as he walked, You always worry about insignificant things, and you will end up with nothing.

Myris stood up straight: Didn't your god teach you how to cherish life?

Hearing this, the man quickened his pace and walked up to the old monk with a gloomy face. He grabbed the cross on the other's chest and held it up to the latter's eyes: Then let me ask you! At the place where the massacre and tragedy happened just now, did the gods you believe in show any mercy? Did they help any innocent people?

No! Throatbone threw the cross on the old man's face: He will only stand high in the sky and watch the tragedies in the world secretly! After all the living beings returned to the dust, after the blood soaked the earth, he stood up pretending to be aloof, and brazenly asked the living people to believe that he can be saved!

Myris blushed, looked at the man in front of him, and argued aloud: What do you know?! What do you know?! Each of us has been burdened with sin since birth, and the journey we have traveled and everything we have suffered are the trials of our heavenly father...

The larynx grabbed the old man's chin, his eyes were terribly cold, and he asked him three questions in succession:

Did someone say these words to you?!

Did you see these words from books written by others?!

What you hear and what you see is the truth you firmly believe in?!

Roar!

The monster moved, and slapped the man with its huge palm in a round circle.

The tyrannical body and destructive power hit a mass of dissipated black smoke.

Black smoke gathered on the ground, wrapped around the monster's body, and came to the back. The man recovered his form in the smoke, rode on the opponent's shoulder, grabbed the catheter under his body with his hand, and pulled it out forcefully.

With whines and howls, a large amount of fluid came out of the catheter connection. The monster fell to the ground with a crash and lost its movement.

He signaled his subordinates to remove the unsightly guy, calmed down his throat, wiped his palms with a dry cloth, sat back on the stone chair, and looked at the pale old man standing there: By the way, there is an interesting thing about Shouwang Town that you may not know. My subordinates saw an acquaintance of yours in the fortress.

Miles raised his head slowly.

Throat tilted his head and thought for a while: Brother Todd... No, he should be called Father Todd now.

The old man opened his eyes.

Speaking of which, Father Todd should bear part of the responsibility for the failure of this mission...

Hearing the words of the throat bone, Miles took a step forward: That child is innocent!

The man shook his head and laughed: No, master, you just said that each of us is guilty. What's more, this Father Todd not only destroyed our plan, but also abandoned the monastery and joined the church. Isn't this a heinous crime?

Miles took another step forward: I can assure you that he didn't threaten, and this incident must have been done unintentionally. In fact, that kid is only interested in alchemy.

Hearing this, Throat Bone blinked his eyes with interest: 'God-blessed alchemist'...he should really be grateful for this title. If it wasn't for this reason, the president would have ordered him to be eliminated a long time ago.

One more thing. The man took out a small brass tube from his pocket, and said to the old man with a smile, About Todd, you probably haven't forgotten something, right?

Myris looked at the things in the opponent's hands, his pupils shrank, and even his voice trembled: The successor...

With an approving smile on his throat, he pointed his fingers and said, That's right! As I told you a long time ago, as the successor Todd, his days are numbered. As for whether to recover mutants or corpses, it depends on how the president decides...

Before he finished speaking, someone walked up to him and whispered something to him.

The brow on the throat bone became tighter and tighter: The president said that?

The visitor nodded and said a few more words.

What? Now?!

The throat bone looked a little surprised.

Watching the herald walk out of the cave, the man touched his chin and said to Myris, Our Father Todd may be a blessing in disguise...

The president listened to his subordinates' report on the battle of the Fortress, and suddenly wanted to meet this alchemist blessed by God. Throat rubbed his palms, and whispered to himself: For this invitation, I have to prepare some greetings in advance.

He beckoned to one of his subordinates, and the throat bone said: Get me a carriage, I'm going to go west.

His subordinate hesitated and said, Master, you are gone, how should the messenger of the silver ring reply? He was waiting in the village, saying that he wanted us to give an explanation for the failure of this operation.

explain?

Throatbone squinted his eyes and laughed: Throw him into the 'Honeycomb' bucket, and when I come back, I will 'explain' to him...