818 The Man Who Robbed Pluto Marriage

The abyss under the night and darkness is formless and has no concept or boundary, and even the underworld is only a part of it.

Abyss, as the body of the god of the abyss, spends most of the time in peace.

It looks like a hazy black space on the surface, even if you lower your head and look hard at the body of the Dark God, you can't see the depth at the bottom.

But today's abyss seems to have undergone a different change. Like a living thing, it began to stretch its huge body.

The mist gradually dissipated, revealing the zenith of Tartarus, which was a dark red sky, and under this sky was the prison of the gods, where countless sinful gods were imprisoned.

This little change is a rare clearing of the abyss, and it is also a rare good mood for Tartarus.

The person who appreciates it speaks eloquently in front of him without showing a trace of timidity, which is a rare experience for the eldest son of Chaos.

His status is noble enough, his divine power is strong enough, and his divinity is shocking enough.

To sum up, Tartarus stands too high, and the bored can only pass the time with sleep.

However, whether it is about status or strength, Prosser, the god of the abyss who is facing him head-on, is qualified to judge, and at the same time thinks that the other party is really a rare speculative match.

Wouldn't it be boring if we could become friends?

This is what Tartarus and Prosser thought after the first battle, and then inevitably became a little "negligent".

Such negligence allowed him and Prosser to talk to each other several times during hostilities, and it was this little change that made it possible for their thoughts to be passed on.

In the end, it became what it is now. Even if Prosser is a god of another world, he can appear in front of the primitive god in such an upright manner, instead of screaming and killing as soon as he appears, it is Tartarus' negligence that has played an inestimable role.

And this, the two of them knew it well.

As soon as Tartarus' eyes met, Prosser smiled and said, "Don't rush to get angry, let me think about how to explain it so that you can understand it."

He thought about it, gave them time to accept, and then...

"I am the god king of a foreign land, and everything you have done to me is enough to make me declare war on your world."

The smile on the beautiful face inevitably deepened a lot, and he said: "So you who can say such words... really make me..."

He hesitated, how can he express this ridiculous playfulness?

The goddess of the night no longer has the reputation of being wise, she keenly grasps the loopholes in Proser's words.

"If you put it that way, everything you have done here is enough to ignite the desire for a godly war," she said calmly, "Declaring war is not just your qualification."

In this confrontation of lips and tongues, the Knicks adopted a late-strike strategy to gain the advantage in one fell swoop, and the momentum that had just been suppressed by Prosser rose instead of falling.

This is saying to me, do they have a reason to go to war?

Prosser blinked and smiled.

Aren't you the ones who have been treating me with contempt?

Pretending to be discussing carefully, but in fact, didn't you take me to heart at all?

It doesn't matter if I get off the horse a few times, am I still the king of gods and the supreme god?It's enough for you primitive gods to look like you don't even have any manners.

Ah, such a conversation is really troublesome...

Prosser looked humble, but his eyes were already deeply impatient.

I don't care who you are if Tartarus isn't here!

In terms of pride, none of them here can compare to Prosser.

He is the king of gods in charge of the entire world, his words are the iron law, and his power runs amok in his world.

Such domineering monopoly of power is incomprehensible to the primitive gods who have been checking and balancing each other since birth.

The only one who seems to be able to experience the same scenery is Tartarus. The remaining primitive gods also have to look at each other's face and bow their heads?

Proser, who has never bowed his head, is really tired of these supreme gods from another world.

He pressed his forehead with a headache, and the balance of patience gradually ran out.

"Let me tell you, do you have a problem with understanding?"

Pointing at himself, he said seriously, "Is anyone of you other than Tartarus able to single out me?"

Nix's eyes twitched, as if foreseeing what he was going to say next.

The gentle attitude that he planned to meet in the future was finally thrown away as a burden in his impatience. At this time, Prosser felt refreshed all over.

He simply spoke in that exasperating tone, with an expression full of hatred, and said disdainfully: "Even if the three of you fight together, I can win the victory, okay? Do you think the darkness that fell in my hands How many gods are there?"

In the Proser world, there is an unspoken rule that all races and gods have tacitly understood.

That's when the God of Light doesn't want to laugh anymore, that's when the horror of living comes.

So don't hesitate at this time, run quickly, don't stop.

"One? Two? Three digits? Five digits?"

Prosser seemed to be earnestly snapping his fingers, but if someone saw his eyes, they would only be shocked by the coldness inside.

That's not the God of Light under normal circumstances. He always smiles and makes the other party unlucky, and then laughs and enjoys the fun, but such a god also loses patience sometimes.

At this time, he will speak patiently, many, many words, and then...

"What should I do? There are too many, I can't seem to remember."

He spread his hands innocently, but no one found it funny.

Nix approached Erebus, and there seemed to be a smell of blood in the air.

Among the primitive gods, even Gaia, who can hardly bear the rudeness of the other party, rarely said a word.

The entire space seems to be unfolding in silence, they surrender to the Supreme God of Light.

"Hehe," Prosser let out a deep laugh, the blood from the killing in his bones almost condensed into a solid body, he still had that glorious and holy appearance, but it made people feel that there was the wailing of the undead and the sweet blood. surround him.

"I have been the king of gods for 680 years. During this period, there will be a wave of rebellious gods almost every 1000 years. They are like weeds, and they can't be cut down."

Speaking of this, he seemed to be thinking of something helpless, "The same is true for the hostile dark gods. They always refuse to admit defeat and toss a god battle every 5000 years."

Prosser raised the corners of his mouth at the God of Darkness and the Goddess of the Night, who were clearly showing fear, and said lazily: "Although they need a lot of time to recover from the fight every time, there are still a lot of troubles, after all, they are supreme. position, do you understand?"

He glanced at them as if inquiring, his clear blue eyes filled with strange cruelty.

There have also been several god-king battles in the world of Chaos. The primitive gods are well aware of how cruel such wars are, but they have never been as frequent as Prosser said. They can't help but imagine that they can stand such a battle How ancient the consumed world must be.

Prosser flicked the armrest of the chair casually, even though he couldn't make a sound, he said with pleasure: "These topics are a bit too much, what I want to tell you is that no matter what kind of rebellion or war it is, we will They are all sitting in this position, and until the last 9000 years, there has been almost no rebellion, what do you think is the reason for this?"

Until then, he seemed to have completely torn off the coat of the God of Light, revealing his bloody feats, and also tore away the colored eyes of the Primordial God.

Don't look down on the God of Order just because it is a world where the source of order is suppressed like Chaos.

Such a sentence seemed to be written in Prosser's cold eyes.

The 36 wings behind it showed a phantom, but it was by no means as bright and holy as usual.

Prosser grinned and drew a big arc, his smile seemed to be a simple mask, and the mask was full of malice.

Nix was horrified to see gods with only skeletons crawling out from under his feet. They were wearing black cloaks, and the green soul fire was burning in their empty eye sockets.

"This is……"

Gaia exclaimed, she also saw the same scene.

Although those gods are dead, the power of rules leaked from their bones undoubtedly indicates that they are all ancient and powerful primitive gods.

"How is it possible!" Erebus blocked Nix from behind, and in order to prevent Proser from doing something, they all stood up vigilantly, and the God of Darkness shouted at Proser: "Are you trying to declare war? "

Such a roar is not painful to Proser, who exudes killing intent.

"How come, I just want you to see my booty," holding a skeleton's jaw, raising his feet. Under his feet and behind him, there are too many gods with ancient and terrifying auras. They seem to be from time. Climbing out of the long river, it is like a phantom forgotten by the world.

Prosser smiled slightly, "Sorry, I seem to have scared you."

Erebus looked cold and hard, and now he didn't feel that this guy was just a vase at all.

"Don't take your things back yet!"

Prosser blinked, and said unexpectedly: "Don't you want to continue talking? They are more convincing."

Erebus frowned fiercely, "What exactly do you want to say?"

Prosser wanted to sigh at such a stupid God of Darkness, but the panicked Primordial God also had a special flavor, which seemed to satisfy his boredom.

After having such thoughts, although he didn't hang up his smile, he clapped his hands.

"What I want to say is simple," he glanced at them with such a gesture of attracting attention, "but if I don't do it, you won't believe it."

Primitive Gods: "..."

Prosser, who had been deeply feared, really sighed, but when he raised his eyes again, he seemed to be a different person.

The face that was no longer smiling exuded unspeakable pressure, and he seemed to be muttering or humming some unknown melody, speaking in the words of God.

"Before I became the king of gods, I was the Supreme God of Light for a longer time, so...the existence of such an eyesore as the God of Darkness has long been..."

The malicious smile just now appeared again, no, this time he was more excited than last time.

He met the eyes of the primitive gods, and his tone was light and without a trace of weight...

"I've already killed him softly."

But the stiff atmosphere became a lingering shadow in their hearts.