The Emperor’s Angel of Death

After the waiter left, Sorge poured himself a glass of water leisurely. His **** hands were still shaking, but the food would help him get relief—the same was true of spirits.

　　 After taking a sip of water, he raised the glass of cognac again, but had to use his hands to hold the glass firmly.

　　 Sorge took a sip, and a warm current ran through his belly.

　　 This way, much better.

　　 He put down the heavy wine glass, and the stiffness in his wrist gradually subsided.

　　 Suddenly, he found a trace and a spot on the white tablecloth between his hands.

　　 Then another one appeared next to him.

　　 is a little blood.

　　 His nose, his **** nose is bleeding!

　　 Sorge immediately picked up the tissue and wiped it, hoping that no one would notice, then covered the blood stains with a jug.

　　 The **** psionic communication caused him a lot of harm.

　　 Sorge took another sip of cognac, enjoying the burning sensation of the strong wine, and looked back at the mirror behind the box. He felt that the guard might rush into the tavern door at any time.

　　Mirror——

　　 Oh, that's stupid! The nervousness made him careless!

　　 There are mirrors, cups and smooth gilded surfaces all around him!

　　 Fiery pain penetrated his head again.

"no no!"

　　 A stream of blood poured out from his right nostril, dripping onto the white tablecloth along his lips and chin.

　　 "Please!"

　　 The mirror above the back of the box was covered with frost, as if the indoor temperature had dropped by forty degrees.

　　 Sorge refused to look directly into the mirror, even though there was power trying to lift his face.

　　 "No! Not now! Master!"

　　 He forced himself to look down on the table, staring at the drink in his hand, and the trembling hands holding the glass tightly made ripples appear on the soft surface of the cognac.

　　 Then he turned to stare at the dark red blood stains on the tablecloth like constellations, which could not be hidden no matter how cleverly he placed the cups and jugs.

　　 In the latest spot, the blood had not yet fully penetrated the tablecloth, so he saw a gradually forming reflection on the smooth droplet: a helmet covered with a crest.

　　 Sorge groaned, the cognac in the cup no longer rippled, and it was completely still.

　　The wine glass became cold with tentacles, and the reflection of the helmet appeared in the cognac.

　　 "Gosh--"

　　 Sorge groaned again and closed his eyes.

"the host--"

　　 There was a silence, and there was no sound except for the rapid breathing.

　　 "Servant."

　　 This voice is not as cold and sharp as in ordinary subspace communications, it is as dark and thick as ebony.

　　 Sorge opened his eyes.

The entire tavern is stagnant, the candlelight is frozen in the air, emitting a cold blue gloom, this light is reflected on the candlesticks, wall lamps, decorations, mirrors, and rows of clean wine glasses, passing through the gorgeous window lattices. The daylight thrown into the tavern is also dyed blue, as if mixed with diluted ink.

　　 He could see the waiter at the far end of the room standing still, halfway through the action, and the words in his mouth had not been finished yet, ghost-like bubbles floating in the blue air above the tabletop.

　　 I don’t know when, a giant has been standing at the table, his strange helmet and armor full of spells make him look extremely mysterious, like a haggard ghost, or a wizard in a cloak.

　　 This is his master, the number three figure in the Black Legion, Iskander Kayan.

　　 "Oh, master."

　　 Sorge murmured, his own voice startled him.

　　 "Welcome to you."

　　Kayang lifted his hand to untie the battle helmet, and placed the crafted helmet next to the blood stain on the linen tablecloth.

His amber face was reflected light blue by the phantom light, his thin cheeks were sharp and angular, and his hairless head was criss-crossed with two scars, a rune was printed on his forehead, and his eyes were dark. Far beyond mortal intelligence.

　　 He slowly sat in the box seat opposite Sorge, his dignity in his actions was almost absurd.

　　 Astarte's body is out of place in this human space. The skeletons of his arms and legs are too slender, squeezing in this seat makes him appear thin and weak, like a teenager.

　　 Under normal circumstances, his **** can make the chair fall apart.

　　 But in fact it didn't. All Sorge could speculate that what appeared to him was only an illusion.

　　 After sitting down, Kayang put his hands on the tablecloth, palms down-even after he was seated, he was much taller than Sorge.

　　 "This time."

　　Kayang said in his dulcimer-like tone:

　　 "Have you investigated those things?"

　　 "I am investigating."

　　 Sorge hesitated for three seconds before answering in a low voice.

　　 "But to investigate an Astarte clan—"

　　 He swallowed, hoping that there was no **** reflection in the glass so that he could drink it all.

　　 "I'm not here to hear your complaints, servant."

　　 "Master, I just want to remind... this exchange may be discovered, which puts us all in great danger."

　　 "I agree that every minute of this conversation has made your situation more critical, but this risk is worth taking, and within eight minutes, no one will be able to detect it."

　　Kayang stared at Sorge's eyes and said seriously:

　　 "So, where are those soul drinkers who disappeared."

"I have penetrated into several key departments of Nathan IV. According to the information I have obtained, there is an abnormality in the number of Astral Knights, but I have no direct evidence to prove that these abnormal number changes are related to Soul Drinkers. ~www.readwn.com~ I still need time."

　　Kayang looked at him, but Sorge could feel that the other's eyes were not on him.

　　 His master is thinking.

　　 About ten seconds later, Kayang spoke again.

　　 "You have been procrastinating here for too long, take advantage of the aftermath of this exchange to get out, don't stay here, find a safe place, continue this task, and find critical evidence."

　　 "But the master——"

　　 He didn't get a response, Kayang has disappeared.

　　 Sorge looked around, time is still frozen, and the waiter's dialogue has not yet restarted.

　　 The light shone with a faint blue, but this won't last long.

　　 Sorge felt itching in his ears, and a warm current rushed over his spine, and he could hear the voice gradually returning, as if it were coming from afar.

　　 only takes ten seconds, and the lingering rhyme will disappear.

　　 He looked at the table, looked at the drops of blood on the tablecloth, those reflections finally disappeared.

　　 With an annoyed snort, Sorge drank the cognac, then grabbed the package, and left the hotel before the blue light gave way to the noisy reality.

　　 At the same time, Talos, who took off his armor and leaned on the bed in a room deep in the fortress of the Astral Knights Monastery, suddenly opened his eyes.

　　 "——It turned out to be him? Iskandar Kayan."

　　Talos muttered to himself, a strange smile suddenly appeared on his face.