Silent Crown Chapter 607: Welcome back

"Very well, you really are a good boy, Your Highness."

Lancelot, patted him on the shoulder, and said softly: "Then open that box, open it, and you can protect mom."

"Shut up!"

At that moment, Maxwell roared like a lion.

His pupils were ignited like golden flames, and he clenched the blade of his sword, moving forward, the world roared. The glow of the scorching sun gathers from the blade,

Lancelot stood in front of the prince and looked at him indifferently, not knowing when, the palm of his hand was already on the hilt of the sword at his waist.

At that moment of interlacing, countless streams of light flashed by.

As if endless time has been compressed in an instant.

Immediately afterwards, the sound of steel cracking sounded.

The sword in the stone has been placed on Lancelot's neck, cutting open a blood stain.

Lancelot's hand, the long sword that had accompanied him for many years broke, Lancelot was silent for a moment, sighed, and threw the hilt down. The remaining long sword broke on the ground and shattered into iron sand.

"It's so fast, faster than I expected."

Lancelot said softly: "Fortunately, I was prepared."

He raised his head and looked at Maxwell.

Maxwell said nothing.

I can't move.

It was like an instant frozen by time. He was fixed at that instant, and all his movements were frozen, from the pupil to the fingertips, unable to move.

Lancelot reached out and drew the sword in the stone from his hand.

The sword in the stone started, like a hot soldering iron, and instantly scorched his five fingers. But all the light faded quickly.

As he let go of his five fingers, he landed on the ground, returning to the original dim and ordinary, no wonder.

"I have been preparing for the inheritance of this sword for the first half of my life, although it did not choose me...but I know its power better than anyone else."

Lancelot stepped up the steps, pulled out the dragon-slaying spear wedged into the throne, and let Elizabeth's body slip off the throne, fell to the ground, turned his head, and continued to look at Maxwell:

"Do you think I will face it unpreparedly?"

Crash!

The Dragon Slaying Spear pierced through the air, and with Lancelot's thorns, it pierced Maxwell and nailed it to the ground, but no blood was exposed from the wound.

As if hot copper juice poured into the body, Maxwell convulsed in pain, the surrounding wounds and blood vessels were burned by the tyrannical force, the skin remained cracked, and the bones wailed.

"Just look at it like this."

Lancelot looked down at him indifferently: "Watch how your nightmare returns."

At that moment, the cowardly boy finally opened the iron box.

In the dark iron box, someone seems to be laughing hoarsely.

The prince was taken aback for a moment, then looked up, trying to look at Lancelot. But at that moment, it was like a stern voice bursting from the iron box, rising into the sky, and sweeping in all directions.

The sea is shaking.

It was a roar like a dying dragon.

A terrifying air pressure is born from the air.

Immediately afterwards, an invisible dark sea spouted from the small iron box, filling the entire throne hall, and countless fantasies of violent storms, thunder and lightning emerged from it.

In the deepest part of the darkness, a pair of dim red eyes lit up, filled with supreme joy.

This day, finally came!

The boundless darkness surged.

In the darkness, there was only the scream of the prince.

"It hurts, mom, it hurts...help me...sister, sister...ahhhhhhh!!!"

The frantic scream continued for dozens of minutes.

Across the thick darkness, it seemed as if a furious beast was beating the ground, causing the entire throne room to fall apart. In the end, countless darkness rolled back, drawn by the terrifying suction, and collapsed toward the center.

The dust is full.

The opened iron box was thrown to the ground, already twisted in painful struggle and venting.

In the very center of the hall, on the cracked ground, the thin body was breathing hard and sweating.

It was like, in an instant... I grew up suddenly.

The young man's face slowly lifted, revealing the pitch-black beast pupils, and slowly got up from the ground.

"Thin, too thin."

He frowned, looked at his hands, and made a hoarse voice like steel rubbing: "Lancelot, this body is simply useless!"

Lancelot knelt on the ground and lowered his head:

"Please forgive me for incompetence."

The ‘boy’ moved his body, following his subtle movements, dragon scales loomed from under his skin, and his ferocious animality was confined in a cage between his five fingers.

I just don't know why, but there was a sad scar on his chest.

It's like an old wound that has been cured for many years, but he has almost torn his whole person at one time.

"After all...I can't make up."

He asked, "Where is Mordred's trash? Somehow it will let him play a role."

Lancelot replied, "I am incompetent. His Royal Highness ran away half a year ago."

"Really?"

The hoarse voice became meaningful, "Then you can only use other methods."

As the finger lifted, the pitch-black dragon power oozes out of his body, running between the joints and muscles, and the sound of bone friction continues to sound.

His body was raised again, and his face began to change.

Until the end, Long Wei turned into a majestic costume, covering his naked body, and the original young man's face has only been left with the original faint traces.

Instead, there was a face full of indifference and coldness.

——Arthur.

He turned his head, looked at the man nailed to the ground, and smiled.

"Maxwell? Long time no see."

He stepped on the broken ground and walked in front of Maxwell, bowed his head and looked down at him, with a look of memory: "It seems that you like this name very much, but you have used it now."

Maxwell raised his head with difficulty, looked at the face, and replied hoarsely for a long time:

"Long time no see, Your Majesty."

"It seems that you still remember me. I thought that a thing like you would quickly forget the creator after being taken over."

Arthur knelt down, stretched out his hand, grabbed his head, and forced him to look at himself.

"Do you know? For so many years, in that cage...I have been missing you."

He stretched out his hand, pressed his chest, across the clothes, touched the scar, his fingers twitched slightly, as if he felt the tragic phantom pain again.

"I—have been thinking about how to punish your betrayal?"

"Betrayal? Are you kidding..."

Maxwell shook his head and asked: "Your Majesty, when you created me, didn't you want me to be the one who betrayed you?"

So Arthur's eyes became colder.

"Anyone can, Maxwell."

He stared at the embarrassed man in front of him, and said every word: "You alone can't. Life, will, soul...I gave you everything..."

"You have given too much, Your Majesty."

Maxwell interrupted him and looked at him with a fearless look in his eyes: "--too much to make me feel resentful. Didn't you create me to become yourself when you ascend to God?

I can serve you, but no one else owes you anything. When you are alive, the **** road has led to the shadow of the city. After you ascend to God, the world will become hell.

From the time you used Gawain as a test subject to make him look like that for ascension, I knew: You have become a monster, Leviathan’s blood dominates you, you have become demon! "

"Absurd!" Arthur said coldly: "I dominate everything!"

"Forget it, Your Majesty."

Maxwell smiled indifferently, "You can't even dominate me, can you?"

Speaking, he looked at Arthur's chest, his eyes mocking.

That scar.

I was watched by him, as if the phantom pain I had once returned.

Arthur's expression became more ugly, staring at Maxwell coldly, just watching, Maxwell's body cracked and wailed, Maxwell's face was pale, twitching without the ability to resist, and blue veins emerged from his face.

"It seems that you really cherish who you are today."

Arthur stretched out his hand and tapped on his face: "It's obviously just a shell, but it looks decent... If it wasn't for you just now, I would have forgotten what you are.

I shouldn't have said any kindness to something like you that is not even a human being. This is my fault. "

He paused, but suddenly stretched out his hand, squeezed Maxwell's neck, and forcibly lifted him from the ground. The Dragon Slaying Spear tore through the wound, causing Maxwell to roar fiercely.

"Listen, Maxwell, I haven't completely dismantled you into a pile of tatters now, because you still use it a little bit~IndoMTL.com~ Arthur looked at him coldly: "If you really have an interest in this world A little bit of nostalgia, when everything is over, Avalon, this broken place, I can leave it to you, let you play a game of love and affection with humans-but for now, you'd better cooperate a little. "

"Never!"

Maxwell squeezed a voice from between his teeth.

Arthur sneered.

"It's not your responsibility... Don't forget, who created you."

He stretched out his hand, and the silent stone sword on the ground flew up on its own and fell into his hand, making him a mocking smile: "You see, even if you have a bad bone, you must obey."

Arthur's right hand reversed, and the sword in the stone was raised and stabled towards Maxwell.

Crash!

It was clearly a sound that pierced through flesh and blood, but it glowed with a roar like a giant bell being struck.

Under the penetration of the sword in the stone, Maxwell's body cracked a huge gap, exposing the empty lungs. The blazing flames running in it, it is countless music theories intertwined with each other, transforming into a river like blood. And now, as the sword in the stone pierced, the hot flames suddenly shook and plunged into the blade of the sword involuntarily.

Maxwell's body shattered every inch.

In the end, the face turned into ashes and dissipated in the wind.

In the hands of Arthur, the ancient long sword has faded away from the dimness and cracks, and returned to the time hundreds of years ago, majestic and luxurious, as if forged by the hot sun, formed by the seven virtues' The element' runs on it, laying its core.

Just looking at it will produce hallucinations—as if the world is revolving around it.

With King Arthur's swing, the blade cut the air, and there was a melodious cry.

"Welcome back, Maxwell."

Arthur looked at the blade and smiled happily:

"——My "Sword in the Stone"."