Global Cards: I Create Eastern Mythic Card Deck

"[Night Clan Patrol]..."

Ji Nian didn't even look at it himself. He only raised his hand to call Brother Zongzi, and used his slightly rotten eyes to look at the card carefully.

[Midsummer Moon Hanging·Night Tribe Parade], this is the full name of the card. It is a purple-grade skill material card. The card surface has the style of an oil painting where the sun never sets, and the brushstrokes are cold.

In the picture, there is a faint blood moon, and a large group of medieval-style buildings stand on the stone road that has been corroded by acid rain.

The drizzle is like a fairy, the street lights are dim and bright, and fireflies with green and cold tail lights are flying around.

The so-called "Night Clan" all have pale faces and sunken cheeks. They only cover their thin bodies in large black robes, and they all hold bronze oil lamps covered with glass covers in their hands.

If you look closely, you will see that each of the well-made leather boots is stained with a lot of mud, as if their owner had just crawled out of the grave not long ago, and the withered and decayed body of the deceased can be seen through the card surface.

"Ok?"

Ji Nian suddenly let out a light sigh.

Through Brother Zongzi's shared vision, we can vaguely see an oil lamp at the head of the painting. It has a faint will-o'-the-wisp and seems to be alive, flickering on and off.

If you look closer, you can see that there is a black shadow squirming slightly in the fire, as if something is gestating and will break out of the jam at any time.

Sure enough, at the next moment, a streak of blood shot straight into Brother Zongzi's eyebrows.

As we all know, zombies have bodies but no souls.

Brother Zongzi, as a mythical card spirit and the ancestor of zombies in this world, has been strengthened by rules in all aspects, and his spirituality is quite strong.

I don’t know who I learned it from, and I have a lot of bad thoughts.

But it can be limited by race, and it is still "empty in the body."

Therefore, he didn't care about the soul fire attached to the card surface.

It even feels quite warm.

"Ow."

He scratched his waist-length white hair with a relieved look on his face.

"Xiaonian, are you okay?"

Wei Ya keenly sensed something was wrong and immediately put her hand on Ji Nian's shoulder, quickly putting up a mental barrier.

"It's okay, teacher."

Ji Nian shook his head and said.

This so-called "soul fire" sounds mysterious, but it is actually an advanced use of mental power.

That is, the memory fragments are engraved into a ray of mental power, and then passed to the target person through objects.

The famous Patriarch surnamed Ye once used this technique to play the trick of "Jiuzhou Xing, Ye Lin King".

For a time, he became famous and shocked the whole country. To this day, countless people worship him as a god.

Back to topic.

The biggest feature of this technique is that it is secretive enough. In addition to the goals set by the caster, only masters with a higher level of cultivation than the caster can detect it.

And because it is just a means of transmitting information and almost harmless, even people with extremely keen senses can hardly predict it in advance.

Including the calendar, when seeing this card, the "Big Ghost's Spirit" was not triggered.

"Fortunately enough (dog)."

Ji Nian secretly sighed: "It is said that there is no danger and that I can save others by myself. If I attach the soul fire to the card, it will definitely not be a simple transmission of information. I will probably add 'thought stamp', 'thought rewriting' and 'emotional loss of control' , 'san value is crazy to reduce the screen size' and so on..."

It turns out the middle-level people in the evil organization aren't as bad as he is.

Sui Hongting specially set up this soul fire to convey a picture to him:

There is a blood moon in the sky, rain is falling continuously, and the mountains are vast and unattainable.

Only the upper body of a terrifying supreme being was exposed, then it reached the clouds from the ground, like two giant lamps sweeping towards the sky.

Ji Nian borrowed Brother Zongzi's "inspiration" to observe this scene, and couldn't help but be shocked.

"This this……"

For the first time, he, who was still relatively tough-minded, was struck speechless.

It was like a basin of ice water was poured down my head, and the strong cold air from the sky hit the soles of my feet.

In an instant, cold hair stood on end, and a layer of goosebumps appeared on the exposed forearm.

——He saw clearly the dress and face of the God of Paradise Lost!

He wears a dragon crown with blood beads on his head, wears a black and red five-clawed dragon robe, and has a dark green Yin jade finger.

The light of the blood moon spread like a tide, spreading to His shoulders, as if covered with a layer of divine light.

The green and black hands cover the mountain at will, just like a king holding the national treasure seal that symbolizes orthodoxy.

Blonde foreigners and Kyushu people with sinister eyes were all dressed in black robes, and they knelt down to Him with fanatical expressions on their faces.

Everyone's lips were slightly open, with pious expressions, as if they were chanting the name of God.

Ji Nian took a deep breath, narrowed his eyes slightly, and couldn't suppress the surprise in his heart even after taking a few sips of the chilled Cardmaster Happy Water.

——Lost Paradise is obviously an outsider, but the god behind it is full of Kyushu or Chinese colors.

In this lifetime, Ji Nian does not think that anyone understands Chinese horror better than himself.

It's hard to describe that feeling, but as the "grandmaster" of this art in the card era, with just one glance, he can taste an extremely rich sense of Chinese classical horror from the high-quality products.

The key to the problem is that in this era of card masters, there are serious historical faults throughout Blue Star. In theory, he is the only heir to "Chinese-style terror".

"Beauty" is a very abstract thing.

Chronology can share knowledge, but it cannot accurately convey the unique classical charm of Chinese thriller aesthetics.

This is related to the cultural environment. If you don’t understand it well, you won’t be able to draw it even if you copy it.

Although the scenery is quite similar to ancient China, it is not "the same flower" after all, and the thriller style is also quite different.

So where does this God of Paradise Lost who perfectly interprets Chinese horror aesthetics come from?

Ji Nian's body swayed, and there was a buzzing in his head.

The god in front of him has an aura that is completely natural. It could never have been created by a card master, and his style does not look like an outsider from the Great Scenery.

What would it be?

A possibility suddenly flashed in Ji Nian's mind: "Is there a god in Blue Star?"

Before he could try to answer this question, the terrifying and majestic existence turned slightly sideways and lowered his eyes.

The gaze was so profound that it was as if we were looking at him from afar across the worlds of Jambu and billions of time and space.

For a moment, the physical fear, the indescribable sense of closeness, and the heaviness from Chinese classical aesthetics were like a naughty boy knocking over the palette, the paint was scattered, and the complex smell hit his face.

"Long time no see."

The sound of rolling thunder is as grand and majestic as the chanting of Taoist scriptures or the ringing of bells in ancient temples, making the ears buzz.

"Long time no see?"

Ji Nian managed to blink his eyes. He was obviously using Brother Zongzi's senses to appreciate the scene, but many phantoms inevitably appeared in front of his eyes.

The brief gaze caused endless pressure to rush over like a tide, followed by a strange light of crimson and purple.

The light penetrated directly into Ji Nian's eyebrows, causing him to take a deep breath subconsciously, only to feel an unbearable headache.

The "God of Paradise Lost" immediately turned around without any movement, as if he had completely become a background.

At this point, the picture ends, and the consciousness of chronology escapes.

Looking up at the gray sky, he breathed in the cold early winter air. His ears were buzzing and he could no longer hear the anxious calls of Brother Ziliang and Teacher Wei Ya.