The Crowned God [West Fantasy]

After the ruins of the war were cleaned up, guards found a rusty knife handle from the soil. The blue paint on the handle had almost fallen off, showing a kind of gray-black soaked in muddy water. The vivid bird carvings were also severely worn and looked slumped, as if they were screaming hoarsely.

Longgu's scimitars are all made of fine iron. The handle and blade are cast in one furnace. Once the blade is broken, the knife is useless, and there is no way to recast it.

Camillo stood by the table without saying a word, stroking the lines on it with his fingertips. After so many years, he could hardly remember what the blue bird looked like, so he could only vaguely recall it by looking at Maya's eyebrows and eyes. her silhouette.

Just a few days ago, the maid in the side hall came to ask if the Queen could go to see Her Royal Highness, saying that Maya was curious about what the wet nurse meant by "mother" and wanted to see her very much.

Camillo can only say that the princess' mother has passed away and died in the battle against the enemy.

So today became the queen's funeral. He picked up the handle of the knife on the table and walked out of the room. Under Jeremy's escort, he walked to the hall that nominally belonged to the queen, and walked up the long stairs. , the guards helped him open the gates one after another, and it was not until the last door was opened that he walked into the ceremony hall.

Amedeo, Yimil, Wei Ya and the others have all arrived. In the center of the hall is a coffin inlaid with gems, surrounded by snowdrops that grow in winter in the Northland, with snow-white and translucent petals.

Camillo stepped on two low steps, walked up to the round platform where the coffin was placed, calmly stroked the bouquet of snowdrops with his fingertips, and ordered the two attendants next to him to open the lid of the coffin.

Wei Ya frowned, and stopped in a low voice: "What are you doing! This is too impolite!"

At this moment, the coffin had been lifted away, and the two attendants kept looking down at the marble floor respectfully, not daring to look directly into the coffin, but Yimil saw that there was only a thick layer of mud inside the coffin!

Wei Ya opened his mouth in disbelief, but he did not make any sound considering the occasion.

"Why..." Jeremy was also stunned, wondering where did Her Royal Highness go.

Yimil's eyes fell on Amedeo, but the Demon God turned around and looked out the window, deliberately avoiding his gaze. Yimil showed a meaningful smile, and only mouthed two words - Creation .

Camillo put the broken knife handle on the soil, looked at it quietly for a while, and asked the attendants to close the coffin again.

Then came the funeral ceremony. The boys in the choir sang dirges, the priest read the eulogy on the podium, and the jeweled coffin was carried by six people through the aisle surrounded by bouquets. The officials attending the ceremony The ministers must salute him.

The funeral was held very hastily, and the wedding was held immediately after the announcement of the queen's death, which completely did not conform to the etiquette and specifications of the royal family, and was also very different from the scale of the original wedding.

Several cabinet ministers have advised Camillo to think carefully, and the ceremony should be rushed, but at least the king must show a sad side in front of everyone, and he must preside over the funeral in person to show his love for the queen. He also nodded very accommodatingly and agreed, but the funeral ceremony was presided over by Kiria, who was the national teacher.

After Camillo presented the bouquet, he left through the side door.

Amedeo was also about to leave the table and follow, but at the same time, he saw a figure in white clothes also get up and walk outside. He clenched the armrest tightly, feeling an indescribable emptiness and uneasiness in his heart.

Why did Yimil meet with Camelot alone?

He didn't understand why Camelot insisted on retaining Guangshen and others. Based on the principle of not interfering in politics, he didn't say anything, but Wei Ya clearly didn't like Camelot. The impenetrable Yimil, as a distinguished guest, is currently living in the king's side hall, so Camillo is occasionally free, and likes to have afternoon tea with Yimil.

And Amedeo is still recuperating from his injuries, so he can't go out often, and he hears some rumors by chance, thinking about what he should think about, and what he shouldn't think about is also lingering in his mind.

The back garden of the main hall.

All the maids serving here have been transferred away, and the flowers and trees in the backyard are no longer taken care of. There is still a thin layer of frost and snow on the withered treetops, making it look extraordinarily cold.

Jeremy followed Camillo with a sword, and asked eagerly, "What's the matter with the queen..."

Camillo raised his hand and stopped his words, only to see a section of pure white clothes exposed from behind the white jade pillar, and Yimil came out from behind the stone pillar.

Jeremy immediately drew out his saber and stared at him vigilantly: "What are you doing here!"

Yimil didn't seem to see the long sword in Jeremy's hand, and a gentle smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, and he said something irrelevant: "Winter in the northern region is really cold, and it snows in early winter. "

Camillo said calmly: "Jeremy, you step back first, I have something to talk to the God of Light alone."

Jeremy glanced sideways at the God of Light across Camelot, put the sword back into its scabbard in displeasure, turned around and walked into the hall inside.

Yimil watched his back, chuckled and said: "The so-called youthful vigor is really obvious at a glance. Dark God, do you think that the washing of time will always leave clear traces, after all, you can't pretend .”

The implication is too clear.

Camillo narrowed his eyes lazily, and memories of the past emerged one by one. He knew exactly what kind of person Yimil was. , so I didn't want to hide it from him at first, but he was a little surprised: "The only thing I don't understand is, where did you find out about the time-space reversal technique?"

"Lilith's Book of Shadows records this kind of witchcraft," Yimiler paused, and explained, "The book is a relic left to her by her mother. It is a pity that this child is especially slow in writing and language, and still cannot understand it. the contents of the book."

Camillo asked, "You can't even explain it to her?"

"It's useless. She doesn't understand Continental Chinese. She has only learned a few words in the past 20 years with me. Many times, she doesn't understand what the tasks she said mean, and she just relies on instinct to pronounce a specific pronunciation."

Camillo hooked the corners of his lips, but there was a lingering sadness in his voice: "She is very special."

Yimil carefully observed his expression, gradually frowned, and said in a low voice: "Since you came from the future, you must know what happened in the future."

"You came to me just to ask this?" Camillo smiled nonchalantly, and the worry was gone from his eyes just now.

Yimil didn't say anything clearly, but blocked his way coldly.

"So what if I tell you," Camillo shrugged helplessly, leaning his back on the stone pillar, "Even if I told you, how would you know what I said was true? If I lied, How do you tell the difference?"

"You!" Yimil was choked by him speechless.

"No matter what happens in the future, or the reality of my words at this moment, it is unpredictable, so why bother to ask?"

Yimil was stunned. The person in front of him was completely different from the original Camillo. He originally planned to negotiate with him seriously, but was interrupted by the other party's few words.

Seeing that Camillo was about to turn around and go back to the house, he hurried to catch up: "Wait... There is one thing I must ask!"

Camillo turned his head unhurriedly, smiled and said, "All ears."

Yimil and him looked at each other for a moment, and took a deep breath: "About the future, I can only be sure of one thing, light and darkness are eternal enemies, every time the gods alternate, one of the gods will inevitably fall Death!"

Every word of his was sonorous and forceful, and the invisible coercion was suppressed in the air, making the wind still.

Camillo put his hands in his pockets, stared at him calmly with his dark eyes, and only after a long while showed a puzzled expression: "... Where did you hear that?"

"This is the message left to me by the previous God of Light. He died in the hands of the previous God of Darkness, Vanessa." Yimil took a step forward excitedly, and the gemstone earring on his left ear shook violently. "He said that this is a prophecy written in the Book of the Century. Since ancient times, there has never been a mistake!"

Camillo's expression was surprisingly calm: "...Oh."

Yimil said angrily, "Oh, what do you mean!"

Camillo smirked: "From the time we first met, I didn't recognize you as the God of Light. You had an excellent opportunity to kill me, but you didn't do it."

Yimil was taken aback.

"And now, my strength is above yours, and I can kill you, but I didn't do it either. Isn't this the best rebuttal to the prophecy?"

"But..." A thin layer of sweat oozes from Yimil's forehead, which glows brightly under the sun, and he said anxiously, "But the prophecy of the Book of Century is correct!"

"Many people want to control the future through prophecy, and Shenting is no exception, so they wrote the book of the century."

There seemed to be a faint sigh floating in the end of Camillo's voice. He walked out of the corridor and looked up at the blue sky and white clouds. A sharp light came out, and the soldiers and iron horses and the smoke of war gradually emerged in front of my eyes.

He continued: "Shenting thought that this book of prophecy engraved on the stone determined the future. They thought that controlling the gods would control the structure of the world. people."

Things in the future have long been out of the track of the book of the century, and because it is unpredictable, it is the future.