The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 672 Ch671 Prophecy

Chapter 672 Ch.671 Prophecy

Divination and prophecy are the powers that make people yearn for.

This power that can let the ignorant know the future just hits the softest and most desired part of human heart - curiosity and exploration of the unknown.

Especially on the road of "destiny", even if the ritualist who is skilled enough to accurately predict when the next rainy season will come, he will inevitably be addicted to this power and constantly try to use it to see farther away -

At this time, the future is not limited to the future of oneself.

It will be more grand, deeper and more brilliant.

For example, the future of the monarch.

The future of the country.

The future of the world.

Once this trembling idea appears, no hiker on the road can resist this temptation.

Some people with extraordinary talents will think.

If I can immerse myself more in the sleep world, cast a spell, and predict myself one year later -

Then, the self one year later can also cast a spell for the second time and predict myself two years later.

So, what about me two years later?

‘I predicted the me who is predicting. ’

This technique, which is very logically ‘mysterious’ but difficult to achieve, has indeed been able to show its brilliance in the hands of some explorers of the ‘fate’ road - it can be continuously superimposed, making the performers of the ritual more and more painful, and at the same time, it has indeed laid out a beautiful canvas that quickly jumps back.

‘I who predicted the first year, predicted the second year, am predicting the third year, and predicted the fourth year…’

If the numbers in it are changed from ‘one’ to ‘three’, ‘five’, ‘seven’, and ‘ten’, you will see another world -

It is a world of collapse and earth-shattering.

The black dragon with cat eyes and cat ears cuts through the sky; the huge fortress with broken parts steps through the fog with spider-like slender legs, and the steam it emits creates more fog;

The land that should have been solid seems to flow slowly like liquid; all the houses you see are swaying, all to the left or right, singing the boatman’s song, and pulling themselves out of the flowing land;

The nameless barrier is covered with frost-like cracks, and the sun and the moon are nowhere to be seen.

The half-wolf girl galloped through the smoke, flashing and weaving in the bullets and flames, using her sharp scimitar to blow away the broken limbs. The bright red blood beads formed into lines and poured on another handful of gray hair.

Laughter.

Explosions.

Steam cars crashing in disorder.

Small bombs flying everywhere.

Monsters made of machinery and flesh.

In the grotesque chaos of the end of the world, all the solemn landmarks collapsed like incredible beliefs.

The world sincerely kissed the offspring it had bred, and said goodbye to it before going to destruction.

‘Cigars and cakes! Kisses and fists! ’

‘… Greetings. ’

There was a bang.

The man fell off the bed and landed on the carpet.

His purple eyelids began to melt, and the paint randomly drew a lush snow-green bush on his face.

He breathed heavily, pressing his heart to breathe, and was in so much pain that he even ignored the worried nobleman beside him. He just rashly took the cup of water handed by the maid, wishing that he could pinch his esophagus and pour the liquid inside into his shrinking stomach.

This painful time will not be shortened by the arrival of liquid.

He drank more than a dozen cups until some things no longer attracted him, until he felt that he was floating in the air, about to peel off from his flesh, uncover the floating sac that had become a grid, and stand up from this shaking world.

"Destruction..."

He hit his thigh hard, calling for pain to pull back his drifting soul.

"It is destruction, my majesty."

The man let the maids lift him up and sit on the soft bed again, letting them fiddle with his face and wipe off the cyanotic pus that was about to corrode his eyeballs to complete blindness.

Then, emphasize again.

"Destruction."

The lady beside him, wearing a tailored shirt and a golden cape, was only worried about the health of her subject.

She held his hand, and her face, as brilliant as the country, was now filled with turbulent anxiety - for this man who dedicated himself.

"I said, I don't want to..."

"This is the fate of "fate", Your Majesty."

The man narrowed his eyes and comforted his monarch. He rudely grasped her increasingly swollen palm with his backhand, almost using all his strength, and then let go before the other party felt uncomfortable.

"That is a sign of destruction, Your Majesty. You must pay attention to it, the highest degree of attention. ”

He recalled everything he had seen and described it to his monarch in the simplest words: those strange creatures that should not appear in this world, the terrible ritualists, the walking castle, the soft earth.

And the dome that was about to collapse.

During this period, the queen just stared at his face quietly. As the description became more complicated, he became more painful.

She shed tears and refused the handkerchief offered by the maid.

“…I am just a woman, benefactor! My lucky and unfortunate fate made me sit on this noble and painful chair. Now, people around me suffer one after another because of me - I am the source of all pain…”

She didn’t scream and go crazy like someone who had an emotional outburst or lost love. Instead, she just read it calmly and shed tears silently, like an old man who had suffered and even got used to it.

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This made the maids and the man who predicted the future even more sad.

He was so anxious that he almost opened his eyes: "How could this be your mistake?!"

He shouted: "This is the fault of those cultists! My lord, you will lead us to a glorious event! This country, this land, and every person in this land will be glorified!"

"How could you think that?!"

Lavia Heidi stood behind her, feeling the sadness of her beloved, and boundless anger arose from her pumping heart.

"I will clear the path ahead for you."

She lowered her head slightly, and a shadow passed over the bridge of her nose, covering her eyebrows.

"Whoever it is."

The Queen shook her head.

She had no choice but to comfort the suffering ritualist with good intentions. This person might no longer be able to perform divination or prophecy, nor could he take a step forward on the road, or even...

The poor people who can no longer feel the "mystery" and witness another magical world...

Now, she just wants to use her kindness, compassion and timidity to weave them into a gentle spring to wash away his extinguished, loyal and pure soul that will never be strong again.

…………

…

The ever-splendid palace is also always quiet.

Victoria walked slowly with her cloak on.

There were still wet tears on his face.

"'Tea party greetings' - Your Majesty, please send me to deal with that cult."

The maid Lavia Heidi followed behind, with a volcano about to erupt in her eyes.

The queen was not in a hurry to deal with this small cult that probably had not yet sprouted, and asked the ritual practitioners other than men.

"We have three more Destinies on standby, Your Majesty. If you need-"

"No."

Victoria shook her head, with imperceptible disdain flashing in her eyes: "Even consumables must be used in the right place..."

suddenly.