strictlysupreme Chapter 349 Ambush and Accident
Chapter 349 Ambush and Accident
Chapter 349 Ambush and Accident
Cyril looked at Eric on the sofa and said thoughtfully, "His mind and consciousness were probably transferred, but because his body didn't enter the dream, he was left behind and trapped in a state of being a living dead."
Clang!
As he spoke, he tossed a gold coin into the air, where it spun a few times before falling back into his palm.
Face up indicates approval!
After putting away the gold coins, he smacked his lips and said, "Tsk~, a wild extraordinary trait."
He paused, then turned to Klein beside him and asked, "Shall we do it, or shall we?"
"You." Klein reverted to his usual cold demeanor, much like Gehrman Sparrow.
Cyril nodded, took a step forward, and a phantom, shimmering crystal ball took shape in his hand, then shattered silently, turning into tiny starlight that merged into the surrounding void.
After completing the interference with the occupation and spiritual intuition, he slightly raised his head, his eyes reflecting an illusory, slowly turning book.
"I came, I saw, I recorded."
Blue flames rose in the air and quickly condensed in his hand into a long spear stained with blazing white blue flames.
Chi!
The flaming spear flew out of his hand and easily pierced through Eric's body. Blue flames instantly spread across his body and the sofa beneath him.
Amidst the rising flames, Eric's body began to swell and gradually deform, resembling a lizard-like monster.
Two exaggerated mounds of flesh bulged high on his back, as if something was about to tear the flesh apart and extend it outwards. His eyes turned into dark gold vertical pupils, and fine, grayish-white scales grew on his body.
Incomplete dragon transformation!
Faced with a potentially fatal threat, Eric's unconscious body instinctively resisted.
A strange, even corrupting, power spread through the room.
Guided by his spiritual intuition, Klein immediately closed his eyes.
But he could still feel an invisible force stirring his heart, making his emotions gradually become irritable.
Cyril curiously examined the incomplete dragon form before him, then continuously compressed the flames, keeping them within a safe range that wouldn't set the inn ablaze.
In the repeatedly compressed flames, the scales on Eric's incomplete dragon form began to crack and fall off piece by piece, and his flesh gradually carbonized.
A minute or two later, the flames in the room finally died down.
Where the sofa once stood, only a charred stain remained on the floor, along with the skeleton of a monster covered in charcoal.
In the air, specks of grayish-white light began to precipitate, slowly floating and coalescing.
"As expected of a dragon pathway, it's quite heat-resistant."
Cyril raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead and let out a soft breath.
Klein glanced at the skeleton that no longer resembled a human, then looked at the vanished sofa and the large, obviously difficult-to-clean smear of charred material on the floor, silently calculating in his mind how much he would need to compensate the hotel.
What an unexpected disaster... After sighing inwardly, he asked curiously, "Do you know him?"
Cyril nodded: "Eric Drake, the renowned hermit of the Middle Sonia Sea."
"He also has several other identities: the King of Black Throne, one of the Four Kings of the Sea," Baros Hopkins, the president of the Psycho-Alchemy Society, and a member of the same organization as me.
Klein's expression froze for a moment, and he looked at him with some surprise, as if to say:
You're just going to kill your colleague like that, all for the sake of righteousness?
Cyril shrugged and said, "It's just a separate identity; his true self is still hidden somewhere in the mind world."
"Besides, this guy has already tested me twice. Isn't it normal for me to retaliate a little?"
"Besides, although I burned his body, his spirit and consciousness are still visiting the Night Kingdom, so it shouldn't be considered a true death. Moreover, this whole matter has nothing to do with me, and there will be no evidence pointing to me."
"Our leader may very well discover the truth, but He won't hold it against me for this; He will only say it was a necessary sacrifice."
'
After a two-second silence, Klein asked the question that concerned him most: "Will your leader come looking for me?"
"Probably not for now."
"If you're really worried, you can use this as a talisman."
As he spoke, Cyril pulled out the drawing paper with the Dark Symbol drawn on it and threw it into his hand.
Klein instinctively reached out and took the drawing paper, stared at the dark holy symbol on it in silence for a moment, and then put it away.
Perhaps the darkness in my dream just now really was related to the goddess, but how did this guy manage to do it? Could he still be connected with the Church of the Night?
And if the goddess had actually looked at me just now, wouldn't I have been exposed?
After letting his thoughts wander for a while, he came back to his senses and saw that Cyril had already walked to the armchair in front of the fireplace, reached out and slapped the sleeping Danitz on the face, making a slapping sound.
A few seconds later, Danitz slowly woke up, rubbing his cheek and muttering, "I think I dreamt that someone was slapping me."
"Damn it, I had already successfully confessed my feelings, but I woke up at the most crucial moment."
As he was speaking, he suddenly twitched his nose and smelled a burnt smell.
Then he found Gehrman standing at the gate, looking at him with an indescribable expression.
"W-what are you doing?"
"Such reassuring sleep quality..." Klein thought to himself, then coldly said, "Drool."
After saying that, he walked to the charred skeleton and picked up the grayish-white mass that had fused together.
It was a heart the size of a fist, its surface covered with grayish-white wrinkles.
The wrinkles on its surface make it look like an alternative brain. On each wrinkle, countless symbols and strange patterns are layered and extended, penetrating the surrounding environment and connecting to a world that is difficult for extraordinary people to see through other means.
Just looking at it makes one feel dizzy, as if seeing something indescribable.
...This is definitely an extraordinary characteristic at the demigod level!
As his thoughts drifted, he turned to look at Sirien, intending to ask how the other party would allocate this trait, but instead he saw the other party's back as he walked through the wall and left.
unnecessary?
It's also possible that the organization can locate this characteristic through some means. For safety's sake, let's temporarily place it on the gray fog.
Composing himself, he took the properties extracted from Eric and turned back to his bedroom.
Having fully regained consciousness, Danitz wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth and before he could even speak, he realized that he was the only one left in the living room.
"Two crazy guys woke me up from my sweet dream and then wouldn't say a word..."
He suddenly stopped talking, staring blankly at the charred skeleton of the monster in the center of the living room not far away, and the charred marks on the floor.
"Damn it, a monster broke into the hotel and those two guys killed it."
"And I was sleeping the whole time?"
Back in his room, Sirien sat at his desk, took out the glass crystal ball, and began to divine the future of the matter.
...Although Adam wouldn't care that I killed a colleague's clone, "King of the Black Sea" Baros himself certainly would, and might even retaliate.
This is really troublesome.
I just don't understand why he's so obsessed with me and the secrets of Bansi Island, where there are no "insightful" characteristics.
Did Hermes say something to him, tricking him into becoming a scout?
As his thoughts drifted, fine starlight appeared within the crystal ball he held, weaving together a dazzling starry sky.
Sirion stared at the crystal ball, momentarily lost in thought.
A few breaths later, his eyes regained their clarity, and the starlight in the crystal ball quickly disappeared.
"There's more to this story, but there's no danger."
Above the gray fog, inside that ancient palace that seemed to have stood unchanged since time immemorial.
Klein tossed the object, which resembled both a heart and a brain, into a corner pile of junk.
"Sequence 4 Manipulator".
'
"This is the most hasty death I've ever seen for a demigod; he had absolutely no demigod aura."
"However, this also leads to the conclusion that the power to silently turn a demigod into a living dead definitely doesn't belong to Cyril. The 'Goddess of the Night' most likely intervened remotely in the dream."
"But...can simply drawing a dark holy symbol really attract the goddess's attention and power?"
"Could it be related to that mysterious reappearance technique he used before?"
"And there's something even more important. The goddess must have already discovered that I'm not dead, and that I've used this opportunity to distance myself from the church. What is Her attitude towards me?"
Thinking of this, he couldn't help but raise his hand to rub his temples, feeling utterly overwhelmed.
He took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly.
"never mind."
He then took out "Crawling Hunger" and released the soul of the "Nightmare" it was grazing.
He plans to reserve one herding spot for "Iron" Maveti.
15 Fragrant Tree Avenue, one of Danitz's properties in Bayam.
Danitz, cloaked in black, appeared in the shadows at the street corner. He looked around warily, and after confirming there were no ambushes, he pushed open the door and entered the house.
After he disappeared, figures emerged from the houses on the side and opposite, rushing towards house number 15 where Danitz was.
After everyone had entered the house, the melodious sound of bagpipes suddenly filled the air, and a misty night enveloped the 15th.
House No.
Immediately afterwards, several more figures rushed out from the hiding place and headed towards house number 15.
In the shadows of a corner where no one was watching, Cyril looked thoughtfully at the three-man squad of Punishers who remained in place.
The person surrounded held a heart-like object in their hand. It was dark black, full of holes, and was constantly emitting a melodious, bagpipe-like tune.
The person holding it had heavy eyelids, and their head was nodding, as if they were on the verge of falling into a deep sleep.
He knew the information about this sealed artifact, number 2-037, the Eternal Dream.
What would the Church of Storms do if I stole this sealed artifact?
Will you raise my bounty to a higher level, or send out a separate squad of vigilantes to hunt me down?
As he pondered, his spirit was stirred, and he turned his head to look at the street on the other side.
A frosty, biting wind howled and took shape. Wherever the gale swept through, beautiful, dreamlike snowflakes drifted down from the sky, while transparent, crystalline ice continuously spread across the ground. Conical white ridges hung from the eaves of the houses on both sides of the street.
The two substitutes standing on either side of the dozing off substitute exchanged a glance: "There are still extraordinary individuals lurking around!"
"What should we do?"
"We can't leave until we get to the captain and the others."
No sooner had they finished speaking than they heard a snap of fingers suddenly sound behind them.
Before they could react, a golden box engraved with various symbols and magical symbols, which one of them was holding, suddenly slipped from their hand and was caught by a hand that reached out from the shadows.
The faces of the two substitutes were filled with astonishment and horror: "The Painter, Randolph Carter!"
"What do you want to do, Sea King?" Your Excellency has been keeping a close eye on Bayam's every move; he will find you soon!
""
"You didn't attack immediately? That's not like you hot-tempered guys!"
He paused, tossed the golden box in his hand aside, and smiled, "I'll borrow it for a bit, I'll return it to you later."
Having said that, ignoring the opinions of the two substitutes, he took a step back, and a phantom book appeared in his eyes. His figure suddenly disappeared from the spot.
On the other side, in the battle between Klein and Danitz and "Iron" McVitie and others, they were at a disadvantage of four against two.
boom!
After using the Blazing White Spear to repel the werewolf that approached him again, Danitz couldn't help but complain, "Damn it, why are there so many of 'Blood General's' henchmen here?!"
As he spoke, he kept scanning his surroundings, looking for a way to break through.
Not far away, "Crimson Thorn" Huntley, sitting on a flying carpet, seized the opportunity to sprinkle a handful of powder made from some kind of tree, muttering indistinct Elvish incantations.
The powder that was sprinkled into the air crackled and popped, and before Danitz could react, it turned into a ball of silvery-white lightning that struck his head.
Danitz's hair stood on end, his face was smeared with soot, and his body was numb and unable to move.
The grinning "werewolf" gradually magnified in his eyes.
Dog...shit...
I haven't lived enough yet...
"Fool, you dare to ambush us with some random adventurer who just set sail."
"exile!"
A voice, carrying an indescribable majesty that made people want to bow their heads, prostrate themselves, and obey, suddenly rang out.
An invisible, immense force erupted between the werewolf and Danitz, sending them flying as they charged forward.
Danitz, who was sent flying backward, was caught by a hand wearing a silver-black glove and pressed to the ground.
hiss~
Danitz's sallow eyebrows twitched, and the force from his shoulder made him feel as if his shoulder blades were about to be crushed.
...You son of a bitch, can't you be a little gentler!
After shouting in his mind, he turned to look at Sirion, forcing a stiff and ugly smile onto his face, which was still numb.
"Thanks...."
Cyril released his hand from his shoulder and pushed his palm forward: "Confinement!"
Layer upon layer of transparent walls appeared out of thin air, turning the battlefield into an area isolated from the outside world.
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