Guess what the fat times of the ancestors, the statue of the mother of sheep and the cat collar will be transformed into by the big tech?

pSSS:

So... some props that can help the author regain his glory? (fog)

pSSSS:

Currently owed more than 21 (implied)

Chapter 20 I Want It All

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After wandering around the town aimlessly for a few times, Joan of Arc and Abby had the simplest understanding of the situation here.

They discussed it and decided to sit in the tavern.

In most cases, the tavern where the idlers gathered was the center of public opinion in the medieval town.

As a veteran, it is not difficult for an old fritter like Joan of Arc to find out some useful information in this kind of place.

As for Abby... she can follow Joan's back and be responsible for her beauty.

The atmosphere in the tavern was very noisy, beautiful girls dressed in various styles sat around a greasy round table, gulped down bad wine from dirty cups, and yelled foul words.

Abby followed Joan of Arc, his azure eyes looked around restlessly, wishing to see every detail of this magical scene.

The beautiful girls who drank here did not give any special reaction to the new faces entering the tavern, which means that there are often new faces in this tavern.

From this point of view, everyone who can drink in this tavern should not be an easy person.

Thinking of the two attacks she encountered on the way here, Joan made such a conclusion in her heart.

Although these two rounds of attacks seemed to be resolved very easily by Abby.

However, Joan’s years of experience in the background world of Cthulhu Mythos told her that any of the tentacle monsters killed by Abi and the undead creatures that were scared away can be thrown into a simpler task as a final boss.

That undead creature has a very high probability of being a believer or incarnation of the Lord of the Deep Space Star Sea, as can be seen from his characteristics.

And the remaining probability is the trumpet of the creeping chaos.

As for the tentacle monster... at least it is a subordinate family member, as can be seen from the fact that it can make people fall into sanity from its terrible singing.

Being immune to their influence, who is the superior person behind his self-proclaimed "Abigail Williams" teammate is indeed a question worth discussing.

As a senior person, Joan of Arc would not raise this issue explicitly.

In the main god space, directly asking about a teammate's cards is more offensive than asking about the style of her underwear.

Of course, a person's usual style of doing things will reveal a lot. Even if you can't guess the style of the other's underwear based on these, it is more than enough to guess the color.

As an experienced archaeologist, Joan of Arc can roughly guess which family member is the superior person behind Abby.

First of all, look at Abi's reckless appearance, and rule out the one who returns everything and the crawling chaos.

Among the priestesses of these two family members, it is basically impossible for such a natural existence to appear.

Secondly, the Lord of R'lyeh and the Mother of the Black Goat can be ruled out.

The priestesses of the former family should be more ashamed, while the priestesses of the latter family should be so afraid that they will cry when they see the tentacle monster.

Then, there is only one possibility left.

Abigail Williams is the mistress of the entourage of the Lord of the Deep Space Star Sea.

The Lord of the Deep Space Star Sea has a wide range of tastes, as long as he is persistent in a certain emotion and reaches the level of madness, he may be favored by him.

As a believer who is also the Lord of the Deep Space Star Sea, it is not completely incomprehensible that the undead creature would choose to retreat.

After thinking of this, Joan of Arc distanced herself slightly from Abi.

In the world with the background of Cthulhu Mythos, reincarnations whose professions are archaeologists and cultists all have the reputation of "group destruction engine" in the circle of reincarnations of the same system.

Although neither he nor the opponent seemed to be the type to backstab his teammates, but because of their professions... sometimes, it really wasn't up to him whether to backstab his teammates or not.

It seems that you must keep a certain distance from your teammates.

After making up her mind, Joan of Arc sat down at the counter of the bar, took out a dozen gold coins from her sleeve, and said:

"A glass of ale and a glass of milk."

The owner of the hotel is a young woman with wheat-colored skin and a strong smell of incense. She has a plump figure and wears rather revealing clothes.

She glanced at the gold coins on the table, filled a glass of ale, and gestured to the kitchen.

After a short while, a very delicate-looking girl came out of the back kitchen holding a cup of warm milk.

Joan's order was not loud, but it was not too low. Anyone who cared in the tavern could hear what she ordered.

But no one disputed that she ordered milk in the tavern.

There are too many eccentrics in this small town, and most of the people who talk badly have already been laid down in the cemetery opposite the hotel.

The owner of the hotel pushed the milk and wine to Joan, took two gold coins and put them in his drawer.

"This guest, you have given too much. You only need two gold coins for milk and wine."

As she said this, she yawned, took a lazily puff from her pipe, and spat it on Joan's face.

Joan of Arc felt dizzy in her head, and her sanity sank a little.

She adjusted her breathing a little, and her mind became clearer.

The woman in front of her was not as simple as she seemed.

While Joan of Arc was thinking about the other party's intentions, Abby was sitting on the side holding the milk, eating pokey one by one.

She made an agreement with Joan of Arc, this time Joan of Arc will be in charge of negotiating, and she will be in charge of watching.

On the side, after a brief hesitation, Joan of Arc decided to test the depth of the other party.

"I want more than wine and milk."

After hearing her words, the owner of the hotel smiled with great interest.

"Oh? What do you want? Some things in this store are free, and the value of some things cannot be measured by money."

"News, news about the treasure."

As she spoke, Joan raised her head and looked straight into the purple eyes of the hotel owner.

"There are many treasures in this land, some bring wealth, some bring power."

"But if your strength is not enough, they will all bring death."

Realizing that the owner of the tavern seemed to have something to say, Jeanne narrowed her eyes slightly.

"So, what do you mean?"

"I believe that those who can afford the money will not be too weak."

The tavern owner made his words a little clearer.

Joan took out half of the gold coins dropped by the limper at once, and the golden coins piled up on the table of the tavern to form a hill.

The other people in the tavern did not intend to marvel at the pile of gold coins. Those who should drink should still drink, and those who should boo should still boo.

"You are very powerful, then..."

The tavern owner's aura became a little bit harsher.

"Which one do you want, a treasure that brings wealth or a treasure that brings power?"

Joan looked at her calmly, there was no sign of wavering in her blue eyes.

She stretched out her hand and shook it empty-handed.

"I want it all."

There was a moment of silence in the tavern, and some drinking guests cast their eyes on Joan of Arc, which meant a lot.

This silence only lasted for a moment, but some subtle things in the atmosphere have changed, and they have begun to ferment in an even weirder direction.

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Chapter 21 book scene get

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"Oh?"

The tavern owner's smile became more intense.

"You can't get everything just by relying on strength."

"Speaking of which, you ordered wine, why didn't you take a sip?"

She looked at Joan's wine glass with a smile, as if she meant something.

Jeanne sniffed the smell of ale in the glass, raised the glass to her mouth, and put it down again.

The taste of this glass of wine was too familiar, as familiar as she had drunk it in the past.

This made her realize something, and she looked at the tavern owner with even more fear.

"Wine that doesn't exist naturally has no meaning to drink."

She poured the glass of wine onto the table, and the moment the golden liquid touched the table, it disappeared without a trace, as if it had been drunk by the bar counter of a tavern.

The woman behind the bar laughed.

"Very well, the wine is fake, but the news I'm about to tell you is not."

Joan of Arc looked at the woman in front of her, trying to maintain her inner peace as much as possible.

She knew that from the moment her wine was served, she had fallen into a hallucination.

And she didn't notice this at the first time, even if her sanity dropped, she didn't think about it.

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