Silent Crown Chapter 16: Bone of Death

　　"This tomb belongs to the former priest."

　　 Bann sternly replied: "He jumped off the wall after he was drunk, fell internal bleeding, and died the next day. So you can rest assured, even if there are resentful spirits, he will only drink, and will not come. Yours."

　　 "Hey, you actually instigated me to dig the tomb of the previous generation of secret guards?"

　　 "It's really troublesome, don't forget it."

　　 "Wait, I want it! I want it!"

　　Wolf flute bitterly, began to dig the grave. Under the repair of surgery and personal medicine, his tragic injury has been forcibly healed. Although there are serious hidden dangers left, he can receive more advanced treatment after returning to the Holy City.

　　 Now he is digging his grave sweating profusely, and only hates that he didn't do much physical work in the holy city, otherwise he wouldn't have started to pant in such a short time.

　　 just digging and digging, the sound of the shovel becomes rhythmic, and the wolf flute makes fun of it, and even sings: "One young, two young, three young Indians ~ four young, five A little, six little Indians~"

　　 Just before Father Bann’s endurance reached the limit and killed this horrible nursery rhyme guy, the wolf flute finally heard the sound of the shovel colliding with the sarcophagus.

　　He was energetic, digging hard, and quickly cleared out a large coffin board.

　　 Seeing that it was almost the same, the priest pushed the wolf flute away, pulled a crowbar from his sleeve, pushed it into the cracks of the coffin, and pried it hard. With the sound of broken nails, the sarcophagus was pried open a gap and quickly opened up.

　　The wolf flute was stunned.

　　 He didn't smell a foul smell. Instead, he smelled the incense from the church in this corrupt cemetery, which made him very uneasy.

Father 　　 turned on the wind lantern and swept over the coffin. The wolf flute only had time to see a bone rippling like a blooming flower, but he couldn't see the whole thing.

　　 Until a gust of wind blew through the sky, swept the dark clouds towards the distance, and the moonlight shone.

　　Under the cold moonlight, the dead in the coffin seemed to smile at two long-lost guests.

Father 　　 had a gloomy face, and the wolf flute took a breath:

　　 "What the **** is this?"

　　－

　　In the sarcophagus that has been buried for a hundred years, a piece of scarlet.

　　 That is the Lycoris flower in full bloom. Their roots grow on the lush bones, exuding a gorgeous smell like incense, enchanting and blooming.

　　 Under the cover of layers of Lycoris radiata, the corpse that would only exist in a nightmare was exposed in front of them.

　　 On the dark skull that looks like a grin, in addition to the two eye holes of a normal person, there are two gaps on the forehead, like where the other two eyeballs are.

　　 The bone over three meters tall lay on its back in the coffin, with six arms wrapped around his chest. Two palms spread out at the top, ten fingers interlaced, like a flame rising; two palms are folded on the chest, ten fingers close together like a lotus bud; two palms, ten fingers interlaced like chains, turning into iron locks.

　　Under the embrace of six arms, it seems to be guarding something.

　　 There are layers of bone plates growing where the ribs should have been, and all the barbs on it have been broken.

　　 A pair of torn bone wings extended from the back to the front. Even though they had become white bones, the bone wings were still covered with a membrane that looked like bronze.

　　The frantic breath springs up in the sarcophagus, like a place where a monster is buried. Even if he was dead, he still seemed to jump out of the sarcophagus and fly to the moonlight.

　　 This is not a corpse left after the death of a human being. It is more like a monster made of black iron, bronze and silver, and it should only exist in the nightmare of a craftsman!

　　 The wolf flute stretched out his shovel expressionlessly, and poked the bone that looked like an alloy. The metal collided with the metal, and it made a small whisper, which evoked the response of countless souls in the dark.

　　 He froze while holding the shovel.

　　 A gust of wind blew, and the shovel in his hand shattered into powder silently, and the iron powder was scattered in the air, and it seemed to pierce the lungs with his breath, making the whole body cold.

　　——The curse of the ashes.

　　 It was a curse erected by a change-type musician. The music was carved into the bones. Just a slight collision would trigger the backlash of the ether, which would shatter all those who touched it.

　　 He tilted his head and looked at Bann: "Hey, priest, will the people in your sect become this ghost after the raging wine overturns the wall?"

　　 "Ah, what I said just now bluffed you. I just want to see you slumped."

Father 　　 unconcernedly revealed the lie just now, his expression calmly seemed as if there was no malice, his eyes were cold as if he was looking at the dust when he looked down at the bones: "He was no longer a human when he was dying, he was treated as a beast. Just look at his corpse."

　　 "Then what do you do now?"

　　Wolf flute asked: "The two of us squatted here and waited for a few more decades, will the curse of the ashes disappear?"

　　"The sarcophagus is connected to the entire cemetery. Unless the entire cemetery is dug out from the ground, the curse of the ashes will not dissipate." The priest turned his head to look at him and stretched out his hand:

　　 "You take out your appointment essay."

　　The wolf flute was stunned, and hurriedly took out the blood-stained piece of paper from his bag. The pear pattern watermark dedicated to the mission is printed on that piece of paper, which is a natural anti-counterfeiting secret. The priest leaned the paper in front of the wind lantern and looked sideways, revealing a few numbers in the blood-stained area.

　　"S7: 6-3242? What is this code?"

　　"The ‘authorized ciphertext’ issued by the Cardinal Hall of the Holy City, the believer can use this to exercise supernatural power.

　　S is the abbreviation of Seraphim, which means the first sequence under the throne of the gods, and 7 is the number, which refers to the ‘burning snake’-the power to destroy all evils and evils. This is the authorization given to me by the Cardinal. The latter is a one-time ciphertext, we have our own way to interpret"

Father 　　 explained lightly, pulling out an ancient clock from his arms.

　　 The clock about the size of two fists is more like a large bell, but the bell is not so solemn. It is very old, densely engraved with lines of incantations, with the emblems of the Three Saints surrounding it.

　　Under the moonlight, the brass bell silently refracted the silver light.

　　 Then, the bronze bell was ringed by the priest, with a complicated rhythm.

　　 There was no sound, but it was like someone sighed softly in the void.

　　 In the silence, suddenly there were countless bats screaming. They flew hurriedly towards the sky, ramming aimlessly, and even crashed to death on the tombstone and the wall in horror.

　　The sound that is hard to hear by human ears spread, like water drops falling into a quiet lake, so the ripples spread in all directions. Suddenly it reached thousands of miles away, so in the holy city thousands of miles away, a huge pitch-black bell responded with a bang.

　　 Then, the clock in the priest's hand shattered, and silently turned into iron sand in the moonlight. The iron sand poured down from the priest's hands like a stream of water and floated in the air.

　　The wolf flute suddenly changed color.

　　 Light emerged from the iron sand, and a huge amount of ether gathered and poured into it, causing countless dust to fly, and also made holy objects emerge from the iron sand.

　　 It is a rare broad-bladed sword, full of green gold, and the blade is full of nicks and cracks.

　　 There are still traces of forging on the spine of the sword, like layers of folds like blooming peony. If you look closely, the layered folds are actually made up of countless holy names and scriptures. At the end of the hilt, the four-generation pope left his own name and the holy emblem with the three overlapping rings, proving that God has the power to grant this weapon. When it is cut down, everything will be shattered like a clay pot. .

　　 There is endless power between the holy emblem and the scriptures, making the body of the sword crimson, making the blade vibrate endlessly, turning into a blurred shadow.

　　——come at the call of prayer, and the divine power descends from then on!

　　 "I will fill the river and make it flow endlessly."

Father 　　 chanted softly, grasping the hilt of the sword, and letting the power of the flame burn himself: "——My Lord, for you."

　　 He clenched the blade tightly and held it high.

　　 Everything is silent, like being frozen and frozen by invisible power.

　　 Then, the blade is down!

　　 The silence is broken, because the heat and burst are hidden in the chopping. It only flashes for a moment, tearing apart all the light and shadow, making it impossible to look directly at it.

　　 The dead bones in the coffin were shaking violently, and on the dead bones, the scarlet Lycoris flower trembled. They were in full bloom, dancing, and instantly withered into dust, flying all over the sky.

　　 The dust is mixed with petals, and it looks like blood in the moonlight.

　　 They fly out endlessly from the sarcophagus, spreading in the cold wind, like a group of awakened blood butterflies.

　　 And that sword, against the almost endless blood butterfly, continues to stab downward!

　　 Until the end, it collided with the skeleton. The blades and dry bones shook, and they screamed, as if they were in the same furnace of molten steel, so the sound when they resonated with each other was terrifying and harmonious.

　　 Soon, the sound disappeared, the sword blade disappeared, and the butterfly disappeared.

　　 Everything is like a dream bubble, it never happened.

　　 But the wolf flute lowered his head blankly, staring at the bones in the sarcophagus but couldn't move his eyes.

　　－

　　In the sarcophagus, the six hideous arms slowly opened. The chest bones spread out like petals, revealing what the core hides.

　　 a black iron box that is completely integrated.

　　The Curse of Tribulation Ash was cut silently, and it was a sword that came from thousands of miles away.

　　 Thinking of that kind of light, Wolfflute only feels that the whole body is hairy, that is the power extracted after interfering with Dayuan, even if it is a mirror image, even if it is left behind, it is heart palpitating:

　　"That sword...is the'gate of heaven' forged by four generations of popes?"

　　 "Yes."

　　 Father Bann retracted his empty palm: "That ciphertext is the real key. Without it, the cage of bones cannot be opened."

　　"The technique of the mission is really breathtaking."

　　 The wolf flute sighed and pointed to the corpse in the sarcophagus: "What about it? What is this corpse?"

　　 "Didn’t I tell you? It’s the secret keeper of the previous generation."

　　 Bann remained expressionless: "He was ordered to go to the north to find the whereabouts of that thing a hundred years ago, and then found...in the territory of the'Dark Earth Mother'."

　　 "The natural disaster that was conquered by the Pope?"

　　"Yes. The secret guard took three years to make a plan and sacrificed six people on the same team to bring that thing back. But he himself was eroded by the power of natural disasters and became mad and became this He looked like a ghost and forgot who he was. In order to kill him, the order dispatched six Templar knights, and finally he died in the hands of my father...

　　He has become an evil spirit, but the evil spirit still knows his own children. He relaxed after seeing my father, curled up beside the fire, ate dry food, and fell asleep in peace.

　　 He may already know that there is iron sand in the dry food, and the iron sand pierced his heart from the inside after turning into a blade. In the end, he didn't resist ~IndoMTL.com~ to save his glory. "

　　"...It's a great price."

　　The wolf flute was silent for a long time and sighed softly.

Fr. 　　 drew a holy emblem on his chest, his eyes lowered and his pupils were still cold: "It's just a person's life and death."

　　"The fear between life and death is enough to be in awe, so why distinguish by quantity?"

　　The wolf flute bent down and held up the black box among the bones in awe. Blow away the dust and broken bones on it.

　　Under the moonlight, he unscrewed the lock of the box, reached in and rubbed it, his complexion changed. In the end, he took a breath and nodded: "Yes, it's exactly the same as what the teacher and I described."

　　He put away the iron box, and slightly bent over to the priest: "Thank you for the cooperation of the cult. My mission is completed."

　　"This is also my mission. I thought I would die here, but I didn’t expect to be liberated today."

　　 In silence, the priest lowered his head and stared at the sarcophagus, stretched out his hand toward the bones, and drew the holy emblem: "You are also free. The dust returns to the dust, the soil returns to the soil. If you should go, don't stay."

　　 Then, the wind blew from the sea and brushed everyone's noses, dispelling the rotten breath that lingered in the cemetery.

　　In the gentle wind, the ferocious bones seemed to be quiet, it was no longer mad, and remained silent forever. Under the moonlight, the bronze bone wings reflect the silvery light, which is an alternative sacredness and solemnity.

　　 "It's so beautiful."

　　The Wolf Flute took one last look at it, scooped up the dirt from the ground, and covered its body.