After the holy sword is broken

"I'm not going back today."

After the meeting, Dana said to Alger.

Alger's voice was still hoarse: "What about at night?"

"Squeeze with you." The mage's face was more serious than usual, "According to the usual practice, I'm afraid there will be a lot of trouble these two days. I don't want to rush here from outside the town in the middle of the night."

In addition, he had to look at his good friend.

Alger was different from his solitary mage, and his relationship with Fero was a little closer. When he heard the sad news, besides grief, he was also worried.

Although Dana's level of divination and prophecy is questionable as a mage, his crow's mouth has always been effective.

Lying on the bed, listening to Alger toss and turn beside him for most of the night.When I finally received the notice from the emergency meeting of the chief priests, I felt at ease.

Before going to bed, Dana predictably did not take off his clothes. He immediately pulled up Alger, who was also sleeping in his clothes, put on a small spell to avoid the rain, and rushed to the auditorium in the rainstorm and thunder.

No one dares to neglect the order of the supreme leader of the religious order.Even if he was still asleep a moment ago, he should get up immediately at this moment, brave the wind and rain and go to his life.

Fortunately, most of the members live in the headquarters, and the gathering speed is not slow.It's just unavoidable that he looks sleepy and his clothes and hats are a little messy.

The core members in the front row didn't sleep at all, and just came down from the front court, and rushed to the back court.His face was full of exhaustion and fatigue, and besides, there were many worries.

"The Astral Conference was attacked. Several participants were cut off from the silver cord. Although there were no members of the Poetry of Truth among them, it was a great loss for the Faculty. As the initiator of the meeting, the Poetry of Truth will Responsible."

The astral world is a special place outside the plane, which connects all the planes, and the creatures in the plane can enter through projection.

All damage suffered by the projection in the astral world will not be reflected in reality. There are only two ways to kill the owner of the projection. One is to destroy the real body. The other is to cut off the projection and pull it back to the main plane silver wire.

When the projecter's silver thread is cut, it heralds real death.

"The royal family may not be the only one involved in this matter, hidden malice is watching in the dark, I hope you can act with caution.

"The sect will be on alert in the near future. In addition, you should be more cautious when contacting other sects."

Although it is a blessing that he has not suffered attrition, as the initiator of the meeting, the Poetry of Truth has survived, and will inevitably be held accountable and questioned by other sects.

Suspicion from past companions, like an invisible barrier, separates and surrounds them from the group.

Although the chief priest's tone was steady, it was unavoidably tainted with a trace of fatigue.The sound in the tall and empty auditorium, coupled with the thunder and rain outside the window, made people feel cold and lonely.

A series of disasters came without warning. The fear of the royal family and the doubts of the religious department cast a shadow on the poem of truth that should be bathed in glory.

"Misfortunes never come singly." Dana said lightly.

The body of the fourth executor was returned in the early morning of the next day. The storm that had lasted for days and nights had subsided, and the long-awaited sunshine finally returned to Dock Town.

The flowers and plants still have drops of water, and the branches and leaves are hanging down. The smell of the grass and trees mixed with the smell of rainwater is very strong.

Fero, the fourth executor of the order, was lying quietly among the flowers and plants, surrounded by his companions.

There are no more tears, no more questions.Just quietly, walking up to him one by one, saying a final farewell.

Kiss the back of his hand, or forehead, or give him a final hug.

Maureen, who rarely appeared in the crowd, was not absent. The druid, who lived in seclusion all year round, gently placed a small bunch of white chrysanthemums beside the deceased.

The sixth executor, who was on vacation, also arrived. The white priest robe was a little empty on his body, and he seemed to have lost a lot of weight recently.

When he saw Alger, he took half a step back, clenched his hands into fists, and half-opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but finally swallowed it back.

Alger intentionally asked if his wife and children were well, but he was lazy to ask.

The exhaustion after the great grief made him a little unmotivated, he squatted halfway beside Fei Luo, and put his arms around the shoulders of the deceased.

There was a dead paleness on that familiar handsome face.

In my memory, Fei Luo has the most gentle smile, enthusiasm and sincerity, like the sun shining at all times, and is very popular with everyone who knows him.

No one would dislike him, even people outside the sect, just hearing about it, would sigh, what a nice guy.

As a professional, he is undoubtedly young, only eight years older than Alger, has a wife, and has not had time to have children.His life has just begun, but at this time he is already lying in the cemetery.

Even if you don't want to part with each other, the farewell will eventually end.

After the final hug, Alger stood up, the cuff accidentally scratched the dead man's clothes, and something fell out of the neckline.

He squatted down again and picked it up. It was a small bunch of white bellflowers. The small and delicate flowers had been dried. It was probably sent by him a few days ago.

"Blessings from afar" have already been delivered, why is this the result?

"In a few days, it will be the day of worship for the Lord of Death and Sacrifice. On that day of sacrifice, let's extradite his soul to the Kingdom of God."

Thus said the chief priests.

He looked around at everyone present.

"There is still no news of the ninth executor. After a unanimous vote at the core meeting, mage Dana was appointed as the new fourth executor. He will go to Wangcheng today to search for his whereabouts."

Dana was not too surprised when he received the appointment, but frowned, but his words and deeds were still obedient.

He bowed to the chief priest: "Yes."

Philo's body was buried in the cemetery, and his name, position, birthday and death date were simply engraved on the tombstone.All the rest of the merits and honors were recorded in the scrolls and included by the church.Not publicized, nor forgotten.

A grand and simple farewell, writing the final chapter for his unknown life.

The living get back on track and each move their lives forward.

Dried bluebells are put into clear glass jars and placed on the bedside table.

The bed next to it was empty and cold, and the quilt and pillows were neatly stacked together.

Tonight, the host is not resting here, and the guests have left.

Alger knelt alone in front of the high altar, which was once looked up by thousands of people, and there was nothing on the altar.

The holy sword was originally placed there.

The holy sword was broken, so disaster followed like a shadow?

It was early in the morning, and Burgess had just finished washing when he heard a knock on the door.

"Buckle, buckle, buckle" three times, restrained and polite, very iconic.

Joy jumped to his heart, suppressed the smile on his mouth, waved the apprentice to the room, walked to the door, straightened his clothes, made sure everything was perfect, and then opened the door slowly.

The person outside the door looked a bit haggard, his complexion was paler than usual, with silver-gray hair and eyes, he looked cold and glaring, even the layer of golden sunlight that shone on his body could not bring him any warmth .

Like a cold sculpture.

Burgess froze for a moment, and asked with some concern: "Are you okay?"

Argel was silent, nodded slightly, and then reluctantly raised the corners of his mouth: "Can I go in?"

"Of course." Burgess let him in with a little panic.

"You don't look very well. It's too cold in the morning? Do you need hot tea and a snack? I can ask Eli—"

The words of concern stopped abruptly.

Instead, there was the harsh sound of chair feet rubbing against the ground.It was Burgess who was frightened, stepped back half a step, and accidentally bumped into the wooden chair.

The person in front of him suddenly knelt down.

No sign.

"What... do you mean?" Burgess said awkwardly, his tongue was a little stiff, just like his body and limbs.

The third executor of the poem of truth, even if he is kneeling, his back is straight, and only when facing the statue, will he bow humbly.

At this moment, he lowered his head.

"I beg you..." Forge the holy sword.

"If I don't agree." Burgess clenched the corner of the table tightly, his knuckles turned white and trembling slightly.

"I can't force you. Therefore, I will go to other blacksmiths. Even if they don't have the ability to forge holy swords successfully, it is acceptable to try a few more times and fail a few more times."

Alger lowered his eyes and stared at the ground, his eyes couldn't tell if they were firm or numb.

"Can't force it? How many times do you fail?" Burgess sneered, his deep ocean-like eyes were dark, and a storm was brewing in his eyes.

The air in the room was stagnant. It was a bright sunny day, but the atmosphere at this time seemed to be a bit like a storm, oppressive like clouds, and cold like rain on clothes.

"I can agree." The atmosphere seemed to relax suddenly, but Burgess didn't intend to just let him go.

The handsome young blacksmith sat down on the chair, raised his chin slightly, and looked at the requester with provocative eyes, with an arrogant expression on his face, and even the smile on the corner of his mouth was tainted with malice.

It was supposed to be a devilish smile.It is so beautiful that it is suffocating, and it is so beautiful that it is almost sinful, bewitching mortals to give everything willingly.

But this face is loved by the gods, even if the owner is contemptuous and perverse, he will not feel depraved. The holy light will always look after him, making the loyal believers of the gods involuntarily think of the scriptures——

"The first generation of human beings was based on the appearance of the creator, so we resemble the gods."

"If you'd like to kiss me."

The room is quiet, and the sound of breathing and heartbeat can be clearly heard.

Burgess didn't wait for a reply, he snorted softly, and was about to open his mouth to mock, but Alger suddenly stood up, stepped in front of him with two steps, and pressed his shoulder.

"where?"

Where are you kissing?

It seemed that he was completely unaware of the surrounding atmosphere and the other party's emotions. The executor's tone was stiff and calm, as if he was on the battlefield and was about to execute a certain military order.

There is no emotion in the silver-gray eyes, only a piece of coldness that resembles a metal-like inorganic substance.

Burgess breathed stagnantly, then raised his head slightly, the corners of his mouth curved again, still staring at Alger, his eyes were deep and dull: "lips."

The next moment, his eyes widened, his pupils constricted, and his heart was filled with disbelief.

The touch on the lips was soft and cool, the other party's lips were dehydrated and dry, a little rough, and the steady breath sprayed gently on the side of his face.

Only he held his breath unconsciously.

Lost the perception of time, as if a century has passed, and it seems like a moment has just passed.

Burgess grabbed the executor's arm and pushed him away with a little force.

His eyes were indifferent and his face was expressionless.

"Okay. I agree. Tomorrow, come to see me with the holy silver and the atlas."