Silent Crown Chapter 405: May the Lord have mercy
Late at night, Avalon.
Privy Council, under the pale light.
Lancelot took a deep breath and pushed away the iron box in front of him.
In the iron box, the ‘monster’ devours the light, tearing the darkness apart, reflecting the vicissitudes of life and the cold steel edge. The moment it appeared in the air, it turned breathing into a kind of pain.
The sharp edge permeated the air, turning the air into an iron needle, stinging the lungs. It can be vaguely seen that the fine and ancient movement is engraved on its blade, but the movement is covered by the dry blood, and it becomes fuzzy and dim.
It is so quiet when it does not eat blood.
The silence is frightening.
Lancelot stretched out his hand, held it up, stroked its broken gun body, and the seemingly blunt blade, as if he heard the heavy breathing of the dragon in his ears. I feel cold sweat,
"Dragon Killer, Fallen Iron, Purifying Spear...it really is it."
Lancelot carefully put the murder weapon back into the iron box, exhaled and sighed slightly:
"—The Gun of Saint George."
"There is nothing wrong with the chart given to us by the Department of Belief."
The unremoved'Tristan' sat opposite him. The dust on the road had not yet been washed away. His eyes were tired, his hair was disheveled, and there were still cracks in his armor. He could not tell that he was in the Knights of the Round Table. The majesty of the deputy commander.
He stared at the spear in the iron box, his eyes became in awe: "We found it in the hometown, but unfortunately, the sacrifice was heavy."
"No one else came back?"
Tristan was silent for a long time and shook his head: "They are all dead."
Lancelot was silent for a long time, stretched out his hand and wanted to pick up the humidor on the table, but he hesitated and put it down again.
"Tell me, Tristan."
He coughed, his voice hoarse, "What happened along the way?"
"We prepared the best ship. In just six days, we experienced strandings, reefs, and sea monsters that were conceived as Leviathan awakened. When we got there, we had already sacrificed six people.
Then, we finally entered the dead city, opened the molten iron cellar, and witnessed the true face of Guixu. "
Tristan paused for a moment, and pain flashed in his eyes: "The Well of Return to the Ruins is an area that humans should not snoop, Lancelot, this is not a false statement on paper.
I wanted to go down in person, but Malloc stopped me.
He jumped in there with Jahris and Gerante. We waited outside for three days, only Gerante crawled out from there...
When he crawled out of the well, his whole body was ignited by the annihilated ether, and his body was burned to ashes, like a devil.
On the way back, I often thought: I am afraid he was crazy when he was down.
He remembered to bring the gun back, but when he climbed up, he had forgotten who I was. In order to subdue him, sixteen round table warriors died.
He was holding St. George's gun and almost killed me..."
He lowered his head and pointed to the armor on his chest:
"——Only one inch away."
Beneath the fierce gap in the armor, in the flesh-and-blood gap, you can vaguely see the heart beating hard in the broken chest.
The heart is full of fine crevices, as if bound by blood-colored silk threads. It is obviously flesh and blood, but it has a texture like iron stone.
He whispered softly: "Just a little bit, I can't sit here. I can only be thankful that he didn't wake up the dragon soul in it..."
"..."
Lancelot was silent, and asked after a long time: "Is he still alive?"
"Live until the moment the ship returns to Avalon."
Tristan sighed, "While he was alive, he kept holding this gun, preventing others from approaching or touching it. When he arrived at Avalon, he knew that his mission was about to end, and he died.
I'm afraid it has always been obsessive.
Can't let it go, just want to go home. "
"The soul returns to the homeland...?"
Lancelot stared at the ‘monster’ in the iron box, his eyes became awed and complicated.
He closed the iron box and stopped looking.
Just close your eyes and pray softly.
"May the Lord have mercy."
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The bell rang at midnight.
The cemetery of Westminster Abbey.
The guard of the tomb opened the door, patrolled as usual, and walked among the stone monuments.
When he was walking through the atrium, his footsteps stopped abruptly. In the swaying wind lantern, the cold sea breeze blowing from a distance, he vaguely had an ominous premonition that he was covered with fur.
Patter, patter, patter...
The dim light illuminates the silent building not far away.
There is the bell tower where the heroic spirits stopped before the burial. A coffin was also urgently sent here last evening, waiting for the grand state burial.
But in the silence, there was a faint and distant knocking sound coming from inside, like the dead knocking on the door from the underworld.
According to a certain rhythm, the sound echoed in accordance with the beating of the heart, echoing in my ears.
"Look here..."
It's like a voice whispering softly: "Look here, listen to this voice..."
The knocking sound seemed to have weird magical power, and the tomb-keeper stared at the place in a daze, his eyes gradually hollowed out.
The spirit disappeared.
"Come here...come here."
Under the guidance of the voice in his heart, he dullly walked forward, stepping into the darkness step by step.
The door slowly opened, and the hinges rubbed, making a piercing, piercing sound.
The moonlight flowed behind the door following his movements, illuminating the cold icon hanging on the wall, the icon looking down at the world, with cold eyes like thundering lightning.
And just below the icon, there was nothing but a coffin in the empty room.
The sound of beating came from the coffin.
It's like the deceased in a coffin lifted his knuckles, knocked on the ‘door plate’ above his head, and waited for the door to open in the underworld:
"Come on! Come here! Open it... Pursuing the meaning of your life..."
Under the bewilderment of that voice, the tomb guard sluggishly walked forward, drew out the dagger, and pried the spikes on the coffin one by one.
The spikes fell on the ground, and the sound was crisp, as if the bones of a demon were rubbing, stretching their posture.
When the last nail fell on the ground, a soft sigh came from the void. The eyes of the guard of the tomb were hollow, and his hands pushed **** the lid of the coffin to release the monsters in it.
Boom!
The lid of the coffin fell to the ground with a dull voice, falling apart on the ground.
The smell of flowers and rancidity came from the darkness.
Under the reflection of the moonlight, the knight of the round table who died in the coffin opened his eyes, slowly got up, and cast a huge and hideous shadow on the ground.
Three heads and one hundred arms, a hideous posture.
Like a bird, like a beast, like a man, with axe, bones, water bottle and thunderbolt in one hundred arms...
Only an instant, the hideous shadow disappeared and there was no trace.
It finally got out of the cage that had imprisoned itself for a long time, returned from the dead country, and once again came to this world.
At that moment, the entire Avalon's flying birds startled from the branch, let out a panic cry, fell to the ground and died.
And the monster in human skin stood under the moonlight, and his sight seemed to be cast to a very far place~IndoMTL.com~ and fell to the sacred city made of steel.
So there was a mocking smile.
"I...coming."
-
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Remote overseas, return to the ruins.
Under the silver vortex of ether burning, there is endless darkness.
In the deepest part, there is an iron coffin, a broken iron coffin.
The broken fragments faintly remained with hideous cracks, as if something came out of the box.
And around the iron coffin, there are three dry corpses.
They were killed in an instant, but the dead corpses fell on their knees, as if they wanted to pray for the evil they had committed.
May the Lord have mercy...(To be continued.)