Hunting High School

Chapter 252: Tombstone

The being in yellow disappeared behind the door.

With the iron gate as the center, the darkness and gloom that enveloped the world slowly receded. The pale moonlight repaints the face of the night.

Zheng Qing felt that he could finally breathe again.

He had some doubts about whether the being in the yellow robe came from the starry sky, because during the short contact with him, his head started to hurt again.

Mr. once told Zheng Qing that his headache was caused by the accidental germination of the 'seed of order', and the germination of the seed was due to receiving a lot of mysterious knowledge. With Zheng Qing's lack of common sense of magic, he can think of the existence of spreading a lot of knowledge just by contact, only those outer gods from the depths of the starry sky.

But even if he guessed that the man in yellow might not be a devil, Zheng Qing was determined not to enter that narrow door.

Perhaps touched by the scene, he suddenly remembered a passage from a Dharma book he saw a long time ago—in fact, not too long ago, in July and August last year—when he was buying Dharma books in Damingfang:

'Enter through the narrow gate. Because there are many people who enter the wide-door avenue, it will lead to destruction. Few people find the narrow way, which leads to eternal life. '

This passage is from the New Testament Gospel of Matthew, printed in a law book bound in Paris. At that time, Zheng Qing had secretly ridiculed Soprano's Little Brother, thinking that with his stature, he couldn't get through the narrow door.

Then that impolite Fatty turned into a boar demon.

The night wind brushed against the corner of his robe, and the young wizard couldn't help shivering, and subconsciously looked around. Words such as 'inspiration', 'intuition' or 'whim' all describe the wizard's mysterious induction of certain events that he has not witnessed but is related to himself.

at the moment.

In this barren land, I suddenly thought of that passage.

Intuition told Zheng Qing that this is not a good sign.

Under the moonlight, the scenery that was originally shrouded in shadows can be seen at a glance. As far as the eye can see, this is a world completely unfamiliar to Zheng Qing. Extending around the huge iron gate is a desolate wilderness, which is covered with slender, pitch-black withered grass, as if scorched black after a wildfire passed through, but full of grass-like vitality.

The blades of grass rustled in the night wind, communicating silently with the jagged rocks scattered among them. In the sparse sound of the wind and the rustling of grass leaves, Zheng Qing faintly heard many whispers, but he still couldn't find the speaker:

"When you're alone, if Death isn't seen, you're just on a long journey alone..."

"...the soul can die together with the body, or it can live alone... The pale soul wakes up again in the place where the body decays, facing the moon, howling every night..."

"...Between the night, the dark land, we will touch it eventually, the gods hate ghosts, the mortals retreat, Carl Keza, the land of the great Hastur King..."

"...The place where the king's tattered clothes are floating, the song of the soul that has never been heard must pass away. My voice is dead, and you are about to die... Unsung, your tears will dry up before they fall. Lost Carl Keza..."

"Order... doesn't belong to this world."

"Don't look directly at God!!"

Those whispering whispers blew past Zheng Qing's ears like the wind. He could only catch a few words. When he tried to find the source of the sound, he could only find a few strange-looking stones, or dried and dead tree roots.

"... Carl Keza... Carl Keza..."

"...great Hastur..."

"...the Ragged King..."

Those whispering voices became more and more fragmented, and gradually, only a few key words could be heard, repeated in the night wind, echoing in the ears of the young wizard.

Zheng Qing sat under a dry elderberry, rubbing his sore ankle.

He walked around this wilderness for a long time, but he still couldn't find a way out. There is no trace of human activities here, no cooking smoke, no thatched huts, no dogs barking, no cocks crowing, no plowing fields, no canals, no fruit trees, not even the excrement of wild animals, the calls of birds, and the whispering of insects .

As far as the eye can see, there are only those black weeds that seem to be burnt.

And those jagged rocks in the grass.

Zheng Qing pulled up a clump of black grass at his feet, and a smoky breath flowed from the soil. Zheng Qing faintly heard the weed screaming in the wind.

when he bowed his head.

The weed in his hand had turned into a puff of black ash and fell down between his fingers. The soil was filled with smoke, and after a while, the soil that had just been upturned was leveled again, and a small black grass with a darker color grew on it again.

Zheng Qing picked up a strange rock at his feet, and smashed it on the elder tree as if venting his anger.

The dry elderberry bark was smashed to the ground by him.

Behind the bark, on the pale trunk, there is a line of dark writing faintly exposed, which is somewhat eye-catching in the pale moonlight. Zheng Qing approached in surprise, wanting to see more clearly.

The next moment, he screamed, took a few steps back, and almost fell to the ground.

On the pale trunk, engraved is the epitaph:

"xx (1990-2009) Jiuyou College of No. 1 University, Astronomy Class 08-1, was born in Pingyang Prefecture, China, and died in Carl Kesa City, a dreamland. Alas!"

The name and date of birth of the owner of the tomb are still somewhat vague, like water-stained ink on rice paper.

But Zheng Qing recognized at a glance that this was his own tombstone. The clear experience, the vague description, all the clues are pointing to the same conclusion.

This kind of encounter adds a bit of mystery and horror to this wasteland.

Zheng Qing even began to suspect that everything he saw and heard was just his own fantasy, or delirium. The low-hanging night shrouded the gloomy landscape, and everything in the world was threatening.

Are you already dead? !

No, not yet! Zheng Qing suddenly realized that he was not dead yet, but when his own name on the tombstone was completely clear, that was when he died.

This is a land full of evil and disasters, only by leaving here can we survive.

The omen was so strong that Zheng Qing could almost hear the wizard's intuition shouting in his ear: Get out of here quickly! hurry up!

"'You are going to enter through the narrow gate'," the wizard muttered, taking one last look at the pale moonlight in the sky, and walking towards the narrow passage under the iron gate: "...No, it's not you, I am going to enter the narrow passage. The door is open."

"The Master said: If I don't enter The Underworld, whoever enters The Underworld."

"Immeasurable Heavenly Venerable...Akbar."

After praying sincerely to all the Sacreds he knew, he carefully entered the narrow door holding the visualized rune gun.

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