After the teacher becomes a succubus

I can sing the lamentation of the god of healing.

Most of the gods in the good camp are quite rough, with moral and spiritual cleanliness.Most of the hymns of good gods will not have any bad consequences for evil people (except for some good gods who hate evil and have the attribute of exorcising evil and destroying demons), but members of the evil camp cannot sing, and singing is easy to cause problems.

That's right, the gods are very busy every day, and there are countless believers praying to them, and it is not easy to listen to them all.But the hymns sung by the wicked are serious provocations, easily heard by the good gods.Those rulers of the heavens don't care about you. If you are in a bad mood today and want to care about it, it will be a terrible thing.

To give the simplest and crude example, a legendary thief who was so bold as to hum a hymn while killing a priest was slaughtered by the corpse of a priest who got up—the god of justice believed by the priest paid a high price on the corpse. He surrendered, tore up the thief with his hands and hung his body on the temple.Although this move is considered very disrespectful by many other gods, you never know how disrespectful a god who decides to lose face and not count gains and losses can be.

It is not feasible to use "whether you can sing hymns" to judge good from evil. People who refuse to sing hymns are not necessarily evil.There are many gods in this world, and the gods have existed for such a long time, so the love and hatred between them are also a mess, not much simpler than the nobles in a chaotic court.There are also many conflicts between good gods, not to mention neutral gods.Let’s take the God of Healing as an example. She is incompatible with the neutral God of Death. If a believer of the God of Death is to sing the hymn of the God of Healing, let alone God is not happy, the believer will first use this The request is regarded as an insult, and if the temper is violent, it will be beaten immediately.

But those who can sing hymns must not belong to the evil camp.

like me.

I once wore a black robe and was on many wanted lists, although my nickname is embarrassing to use now.Well, they call me "Rachel's Blade", which shows the importance of Rachel's reputation, and his name can be used as an adjective.I've done a lot of shit, and I've done all kinds of tricks, and I've been called a famous teacher and a good student. If Miss Pastor knew who I was, she probably wouldn't be so surprised.

On the other hand, if she knew who I was, this innocent little girl might doubt the whole world, questioning why a person like me can remain neutral.

But whether the world is good or not, it is not a matter of black and white.

The concept of good and evil, which is both theology and philosophy, is so complicated that it can be discussed for days and nights, but it can be solved simply by a detection spell, although there are still different opinions on the principle of the faction detection spell.I think this question is extremely boring. Instead of talking about these things, I would rather talk about a few gossips about the gods, or dirty jokes, troubadours are good at it.

The mourning song for the God of Healing is very short, and it only takes more than a minute to sing it all.In theory, there can be a few minutes of silence, but that's fine, the pastor must not want me to stand by her in silence.I took off her shawl, covered her deathly face, and got up again to move forward.

Two steps away is Rachel's laboratory.

The door was violently destroyed, and now it opens with a push.On the wall not far away, I saw the guy who was probably Edward.

Miss Pastor's Edward is not the little boy I thought, at least for now, he looks very... unsightly.Dense blood-colored thorns covered his swollen skin to the extreme, like hideous tattoos, and like parasitic plants protruding from his body.Edward's body was now as strong as a stitched beast, his right hand was surprisingly thick, and there was a sharp steel knife growing where the fingers should have been.Against the backdrop of this huge body, the head that was still relatively human looked very small, his face was very distorted, and blood and tears were overflowing from his angry eyes.

Blood oath.

If your hatred is too deep, if your enemies are too powerful, worship the god of vengeance.Give a normal life, give all hope, become a blood oath, maybe there is the possibility of revenge.Bloodsworn gain power at a high price, but more importantly, they can "smell" the enemy.This kind of perception is sometimes unreasonable at all. It can cross thousands of mountains and rivers, break through the perfect disguise, and come to the enemy who ruined their lives.

Sounds exciting, but that's all there is to it.

It's not the first time I've seen Bloodsworn, and as a member of the ex-Demon King's lackeys, they're as common as a gambler's debt collector.The sensory ability of the blood-sworn person is the same as the premonition of the bloodline fortune-teller, and the number of times it is really useful is very small. The situation of "traveling all over the world and finally finding the toothpick used by the enemy" is very common. To use this perception to chase a mage who can teleport around the world and stay in the subspace mage tower all year round is simply a dream.Not to mention that the power increase brought by the blood oath is limited, and finding Rachel is just a delivery of food.

Like now.

Rachel finally left his mage tower hidden in the subspace, transformed into a succubus for some reason, and his spellcasting ability was temporarily greatly reduced by the interference. Edward is also more than adequate.

The laboratory is a bit messy, which fully reflects the blood oather's good strength and the [-] points of effort he put in in this battle, but it's a pity that it doesn't stop there.Rachel was unscathed, and the Bloodsworn was nailed to the wall by a magic spear, with his feet off the ground, like a hedgehog hanging on a coat rack.I was surprised to find that he was still alive, man, it's amazing how long he lasted.

Before he finished thinking, his head was crushed by invisible force.

The soul-destroying hand took out the angry soul of the blood-swearer, and locked it tightly like a prison.I waited for Rachel's next move, but he didn't move.

As soon as I entered the door, Rachel's eyes fixed on me.He glanced at the soul gathered at his fingertips along my line of sight, and then glanced out to the Miss Pastor on the ground, and sneered at me.

"Can't bear it, huh?" he said.

I hurriedly spread my hands to ask him to help himself, and pressed my body against the wall at the door, trying to minimize the sense of presence, hoping that he would pretend that I had never entered the door.It's a pity that Rachel didn't plan to let me go. He turned to me and raised his hand.

"For mercy?" he said, "for the clergyman, beg me to spare the soul of 'Edward'?"

Of course he knew everything that happened outside the door.

"You can't let him go." I said objectively and rationally, "The blood-swearers hunt endlessly. If they don't kill the grass, they will easily turn into undead and continue to take revenge. To deal with the blood-sworn people, they should be killed. Burn the corpses and drive the spirits away."

"Very good, it's the same as what I taught." Rachel's tone didn't sound like the slightest compliment, "So, what do you think?"

By the gods of magic, how heartening it is that my mentor realizes that I have a mind of my own.I sighed in the premonition that this conversation would not end soon, and replied honestly: "I think he is miserable. After you finish him, I will find a place to bury him and the ashes of the poor girl outside the door." .”

The person who will become the blood oather must have a deep blood feud with the hunted target.

This is what Rachel wanted to hear. The corners of his mouth curved sharply, as if he had heard the expected answer. Rachel looked at me with disdain and said, "Weakness."

"It's not weakness, it's just perception." I shrugged, "I'll do the same with the Bloodsworn, but it doesn't stop me from feeling sorry for them."

"What's the use of feeling sorry for them when they're going to end up doing the same thing as me?" Rachel said.

"Not everything is useful, teacher," I replied. "We feel, we feel, we feel, we respond, because we are alive."

"It's not living itself, but the redundant part of living." Rachel retorted, "If halflings don't have so many unnecessary and excessive emotions, their wisdom is enough to develop achievements comparable to dwarves, instead of As useless as it is now."

"The recipes of halflings are famous all over the world!" I corrected, "Their prosperous table civilization has a long history and is famous all over the world!"

Rachel looked at me like I was making a bad joke.

I wanted to sigh again, but held back.I'm past the "Mom and Dad don't understand me! I'm so disappointed!" stage, and adults have an adult way of coping, like, shutting up at times like this.

"That's why you left me?" Rachel said. "Because of conscience? Because my evilness is starting to pain you?"

My temples began to throb and hurt. I looked around, but unfortunately all I could see here were plasma, dead bodies, and broken tables and chairs.This obvious reluctance to discuss was completely inconsiderate. Rechel looked at me aggressively, and for a while there was only the hissing of the soul in the room.

"Why are you dwelling on these issues?" All I could say was, "As you said, it's useless to what we're dealing with. With all of us having to work together for a while, change Is there any benefit in hating each other a little more?"

"It's stupid to pretend to be confused." Rachel said coldly, "I won't let you disappear suddenly again, just for some reason that I can't understand."

I was silent for a moment, then started laughing uncontrollably.

"You...hahahahaha..." I laughed out of breath, trying to speak between the laughs, "You sound like a total stalking ex-girlfriend hahahahaha!"

Rachel didn't react at all, obviously not understanding my joke.He stared at me coldly and fell to the ground laughing, rolling around in unstoppable laughter, laughing intermittently for several minutes without stopping.Then, my mentor finally realized that I would not give in no matter what, he snorted coldly, turned around losing interest, and crushed the soul of the blood-swearer.

Rachel strode out.

The author has something to say:

Rachel: You are mine.

Rachel: Is that why you left me?

Rachel: I won't let you disappear from my sight again.

↑Rachel Cliff, an upright mentor who unknowingly throws out a dozen lines from a sickly ex-girlfriend.