The Emperor’s Angel of Death

In fact, Soshyan came to Malakin for nothing important.

This period of time was fairly calm. Apart from dealing with some battle groups and alliance affairs, Soshyang’s most common thing to do is to learn from Malakin——

In those days not long ago, he concentrated on drawing sketches for many days, but he suddenly became entangled in a problem.

"Brother Soshyan."

Soshyang raised his head, and he thought so deeply that he didn't even notice that Malakin had come to him.

"Why are you sitting motionless?"

"I planned to make a statue to commemorate someone... but halfway through the painting, I realized that this work requires a level far beyond my own. I feel that there is a sense of arrogance, as if I deliberately belittle the skill. ."

"Ha, your work is..."

Malakin glanced at Soshyan's work, it was a woman.

"She is...."

"My physiological mother."

"We have surpassed the realm of him and other mortals."

Malakin said meaningfully.

"These mortal ties must be put behind the head."

The Commander of the Weeper War placed his hard hand on Soshyan's shoulder.

"I once forgot about them, but I remembered it later, but recently...I can't remember their faces more and more."

"That's it. Even after surgery and hypnosis, some people will forget everything, while others will still remember... If you value your parents so much, you will never forget them completely. ."

"Then do you remember?"

Malakin's face was soft enough to be almost the same as a normal person.

"No, brother, I can't remember anything before the blood infusion ceremony...For me, I only have the memory of myself as Astarte. Now let me take a look at the sketches you drew. Right, do you want to be a bronze statue?"

"Yes, I think it would be very suitable to use copper as the material, but I plan to use satin tape for the back part, provided that I can make the right shape... When I was a child, I liked them very much. The wind is blowing, I hope I can find a way to reproduce this scene."

Malakin picked up Soshyan's drawing board, and on the first page there are details of the sculptural hand painted in soft coke.

Then, he made a sound of approval.

"You paint well, you are talented, and they will gradually show up with the training you receive."

Then he turned to another page.

"For example, this face..."

Suddenly, he frowned.

"That's it."

Malakin nodded, thoughtfully, and then said to Soshyan:

"You come with me."

They walked to the edge of the room and placed a tall copper cylinder in a side niche with a beautiful painting engraved on it: angels and giant beasts were fighting each other, hunting each other in the forest.

This painting is exquisite and exquisite, whether it is a beast or an angel, it has a nuanced expression.

"It's so beautiful."

Soshyan praised from the bottom of his heart.

"As long as you study hard, you may be able to make such a work one day, but I'm very surprised why...the characters you create basically don't have any expressions?"

Soshyan froze for a moment when he heard Malakin's words.

He glanced at his work, and it seemed that it was indeed the case, but he didn't know why it was so.

Malakin was silent for a long time, then suddenly said softly:

"Maybe it's just a guess... I think you tried to regain the emotion of a mortal, but in fact you have lost it forever."

"Why? It sounds--"

Malakin suddenly turned to look at Soshyan, and asked every word.

"Brother Soshyan, have you dreamed recently."

"Uh....."

Soshyan paused for a moment, then shook his head.

Afterwards, the Abyss Watcher looked at him and suddenly sighed.

He turned and walked to the cabinet, and took out a stack of old playing cards from an iron box wrapped in cloth. Soshyan knew that these cards were called tarot cards and were often used for divination.

Each card has a carefully drawn pattern of aristocratic characters, full of vivid colors, and its wonderful details are amazing.

"Think tank curators often say that the waves of the vast ocean change rapidly, and the impact it brings is endless. The rushing raging waves can turn into tiny streams in the blink of an eye, and the gentle water surface can suddenly raise violent typhoons. Everyone The power of "will vary greatly between its thoughts. It is like a fickle lover whose likes and dislikes are fleeting like a little firefly in the dark night."

"Subspace is indeed an elusive field."

Malakin smiled slightly and tapped his finger on the golden back of the pile of cards.

"The emperor is also in the subspace, so is he also so unpredictable?"

"This--I can't say it too well."

"So let's play a game."

After that, the commander of the Weeping Band, with incredible flexibility, exquisitely folded the stack of cards into a pyramid, which was placed on the edge of the desk.

"Sailors often say that they have two spouses, one is the wife of the family, and the other is the universe. Both are full of jealousy. It is said that every sailor will die because of one of them. Both are quite dangerous. The point is How to predict those moments and catch it in time before it fades."

"So this is a divination?"

"No, it's a game."

Before the words fell silent, Malakin suddenly slapped the table.

The pyramid of cards suddenly collapsed, and cards fell to the ground one by one, and many knights, kings and princesses formed a crazy vortex.

Soshyang's eyes moved, and his hand suddenly stretched out like a probing poisonous snake, grabbing a card with a gold edge from the air.

Subsequently, he turned the card face over.

The card displayed a sacred image of a blazing long sword in his right hand and an eagle emblem orb in his left hand. An angel was flying above that image, playing a golden horn with a silk flag.

"That's it."

Malakin nodded thoughtfully.

"Trial."

Soshyan looked at the card, not knowing what Malakin was selling.

After being silent for a long time, the Watcher of the Abyss suddenly raised his head and asked with a serious expression:

"Brother Soshyang, you are not the only soul drinker in your battle group."

As soon as he said this, Soshyang's right hand shook, and the card in his palm suddenly slipped.

He did not answer, nor denied it.

Malakin looked at him and said slowly:

"In the Battle of New Badab, although I did not see with my own eyes what was blocking the communication of the red pirates, according to the think tank curator, it was a malicious subspace shock... Unclean power."

For a long time, Soshyang only suffocated four words.

"Forced by the situation--"

"I can understand ~www.readwn.com~ but I hope you can remember that Huron didn't plunge into the darkness in a single thought. He was...a hero in the past."

"I see."

Seeing the embarrassment and shame on Soshyang's face, Malakin stepped forward and placed his left hand on the opponent's shoulder.

"Brother, there is actually one more thing, I just said to you very early."

"Ok?"

"You have some very bad things entangled in your body. Although I can't say it, it may be related to the dissipation of your emotions... As the sons of San Giles, we are born to be more psychic than other legions. Be more sensitive."

Soshyang could only be silent, unable to answer.

But Malakin didn't press the question either, just turned around and stared at the painting he drew.

"Everyone has their own secrets, no matter what your secrets and responsibilities are, Brother Soshyan...Don't forget why you want to be an Astarte."