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Shakespeare showed a puzzled look: "Well, what is this going to do?"

In fact, he already had a faint feeling in his heart.There is a great desire in this pure saint, and that desire is everything to him.

Your Majesty the Empress has lost the qualification to enter after losing the Command Seal and having the power to change everything.And the stories he wrote and described also have the possibility of this world, even if it is said.

The pen in his hand is also controlling whether the saint in front of him has a perfect ending or a tragic ending.

The saint boy who has lost everything and accepted everything, with only one wish left, is no longer allowed to fail.

A bead of sweat oozed from Shakespeare's forehead.

"I give orders here with Command Seals, Shakespeare, you are not allowed to describe the tragedy about me!"

The Command Seal turned into a chain of light that imprisoned Shakespeare. This is just a conceptual phenomenon. If he accepts it, the chain will disappear. If he does not accept it, the possibility of writing will no longer exist.

"Si-Your Excellency Shiro!?" Shakespeare's eyes almost popped out.

"Don't be so nervous, this is just an insurance policy." Amakusa Shiro Tokisada said.

"However, this is too unfair to me." Shakespeare yelled frantically.

Amakusa Shiro Shizhen shook his head: "If you were treated fairly, then you would definitely describe my tragedy, right?"

"Of course, as a writer, how can I only write comedies. According to my inspiration, of course, I may accidentally slip the pen." When it came to the second half of the sentence, Shakespeare said with an uncertain tone.

Tragedy stories of lunatics, ladies, kings, princes, knights, etc. can be seen everywhere, but the tragedies of saints alone are rare.

Maybe the Joan of Arc who was posthumously named after 500 years is one, but Shakespeare would not admit that the kind of woman who can only be a prostitute in his writings can be regarded as a saint.

If there is no limit, he would definitely want to write about the tragedy of this saint.

"So you can only accept it."

"Accept... I accept!" said Shakespeare flatly.This sentence also made the lock of light that imprisoned his writing disappear.Shakespeare took a breath and got up from the ground: "But since I can't write about your tragedy, then I don't plan to write about your success."

Amakusa Shiro Shizhen was not surprised: "Then, the others are left to you."

With that, he climbed up the stairs.

As the figure of Amakusa Shiro Tokisada became farther and farther away, until it disappeared.

From Shakespeare's side, the figure of Semiramis appeared.

"Even though there was an order, you still resolutely appeared here. Empress of Assyria, it is precisely because of this that Your Majesty the Saint is so wary of you." Shakespeare said sarcastically.

"So, you really don't plan to write about Shiro anymore?"

Shakespeare showed a helpless expression: "You have seen this just now. Command spells cannot allow me to write tragedies about saints. Even though we both listened to the hopeless expression and collapse of this saint when he faced the ending. But now, it seems, we have lost the fun."

Semiramis frowned: "Don't compare me with you."

"You said it as if you didn't expect it." Shakespeare pointed it out directly.

"You..." Semiramis glared at him, and sighed under his alluring face: "Although I don't deny it, Shiro's wish came true, and I want to see it too."

"Oh? Then this is love, right? The so-called love where the man is full of ambition and goes away resolutely, but the woman can only wait. I need you to write something about the history of the present world that has been separated by thousands of years..."

Before he finished speaking, the chains on Shakespeare's body were tied tightly again, this time from the empress' anger.

"Enough, if you are willing to write, don't forget Shiro's opponent."

"Oh? This is your empathy!?" The words fell into a deeper chain, and Shakespeare couldn't help calling for mercy: "Okay, I have already felt this enthusiasm. Tragedy, right? I will write it !"

"Heh heh heh heh...but Empress, you gave me a good inspiration."

"You're going to write about that guy's tragedy?"

"No, no, it's just the writer's intuition, coupled with the feeling of a saint, there must be some kind of sad shadow in that man, so that he can deny human beings themselves."

Shakespeare became interested in mentioning this, with a happy smile on his face: "Instead of using scripts to describe his false failures, it is better to use the stage to evoke the experience he least wants to recall!"

Chapter 180 Six Sending You to Heaven

Tulipas.

After the battle on Weston's side ended, the danger was also briefly relieved.

Weston returned to the sixth guide, Lingxia, and continued to treat her with magic power. The fluorescence alone had gradually filled the big hole left by Atalanta in her body.

"It's unbelievable, my body is filled with just a pile of dirt." The sixth director, Lingxia, sat in front of the steps of a house, feeling the gentle touch on her chest, and sighed in amazement.

"In the final analysis, human beings are just organic matter. When I was a child, I thought I was special. When I took a biology class in junior high school, I should realize that I am just one of the ordinary beings."

As always, the man's words are full of contempt for human beings and incomprehensible metaphors.

The sixth guide, Lingxia, didn't care about this. When the last wound was completely filled, she asked curiously: "If I leave you, will the special effect of [Material Transformation] be stripped? It's like I walked on the street. , the skin on my chest suddenly turned into mud, and I died all of a sudden.”

"Then don't leave me." Weston said in a good way.

Hearing this sentence, the Sixth Director Lingxia laughed: "It seems that I can't."

Seeing that the mother (Master) had regained her vitality, Jack on one side quickly hugged Liu Dao Lingxia's waist, and rubbed his head against the other's big chest, making Weston extremely jealous.

"Mom, hide a little further next time!"

"Yes, everything is at Jack's command." Sixth Director Lingxia pampered her little head, and then she looked around behind Weston, puzzled, "Well, where's Berserker?"

Weston pointed to the air around him.