Silent Crown Chapter 472: New blood

In the darkness, a faint light fell.

The pure light illuminates the steel altar and the ancient stone cauldron above the altar.

It seems that after thousands of years of tempering, Ishigama is old and full of cracks, and I can't see the original shape.

In the stone cauldron, there was a faint scarlet rippling.

The empty cauldron seemed to be full of blood, and there was a magnificent blood rippling from the nothingness.

The sacred cauldron.

This is the core of the human world. Among all natural disasters, the sacred cauldron can be compared with the hundred eyes, but it does not seem to be as majestic or harsh as mortals imagined.

It's just a simple stone cauldron.

In the **** color in the sacred cauldron, there are ten mysterious and mysterious emblems suspended. Six emblems released a soft light, while the remaining four emblems were dim and lacking in reality.

The old guard stared at the coat of arms in the cauldron and couldn't help but sigh.

In the silence, footsteps sounded from a distance.

Someone walked through the fragments of the etheric realm and came here.

The watcher looked back and saw the scarlet crown and robe. It was the Scarlet King.

"It's you, Holy See."

The caretaker smiled: "I haven't been here for a long time."

In the light refracted by the invisible blood, the guardian's face was revealed. The face was so old and wilting, but it looked the same as the Scarlet King!

In the light of the light, the pope walked up to the altar, and two such similar faces crossed by.

The pope bowed his head, gazing at the magnificent light in the sacred cauldron:

"This is new blood?"

"Yes, new blood."

The caretaker's smile became gloat: "Sad? The pope is the carrier of the sacred blood and the guardian of the sacred cauldron. Now that the old blood is not dead, the new blood has been born. It seems that even the sacred cauldron is I don’t think you can support it for long."

The pope is silent.

He lowered his head and stared at his hands, as if he could penetrate the pale flesh and blood and see the fine cracks on the bones.

"After so many years, it can't be sustained." He said: "It's almost reaching the limit."

"You are now a human being after all."

The caretaker said something ridiculous, "Say a thousand things and ten thousand, people will always die, Holy See, it seems you are not used to it."

"Aren't you worried?" the pope asked.

"I am not worried. Of course I am not worried."

The caretaker picked the fleas in his hair, and said, "I worry about something like you. Let me worry about other things."

He paused, looked at the sacred cauldron, and pointed at the four extinguished badges:

"The inheritance of the saints, speed up somehow."

"Haydn is old and he is ready." The Pope said, "After he dies, his disciples will accept his inheritance."

"This can only guarantee the current quantity."

The guard shook his head in dissatisfaction: "Among the six surviving people, two kings, four saints and three kings, the King of Yellow has escaped. You have to sit in the holy city, and all the burdens are almost on the body of contemporary Bach. Now. Just to maintain the integrity of the human world, he is almost exhausted.

Someone must fill the remaining four positions.

Before you die, at least you have to clean up the mess you created, right? "

The pope said, "I try my best."

"You can see better than me outside."

The caretaker asked: "Will anyone be able to fill the position of a saint in the next ten years? The little kid named Wolfflute is Bach’s apprentice. I heard that it’s okay. Recently, it’s not an achievement scepter. Already?"

"Wolf flute? Unbearable."

The pope shook his head: "He is unwilling to inherit the burden, and directly integrates the simplest low-level elements, with insufficient background.

If he waits for another three years, waiting for the holy city to pave the way for his legend, with his talents, he can integrate at least three high-level elements and even inherit the crown of Bach. "

"Young people want simple freedom, not everyone wants to jump into the quagmire."

The caretaker took a handful of nuts out of his pocket and threw it in his mouth, knocking: "He is still too young. Let him come here in ten years. He should be a little mature by then. .

Starting again, it's only ten years.

Twenty years later, he is forty-three years old. As a saint, he is already very young. "

"I will pay attention."

The pope said: "You should have other candidates, right?"

"Asgard's third prince, how?" the guard suggested: "A hundred generations of peerless talent, even people like me who stay in the house have heard that he is a master of the generation.

Only seventeen years old, he is already a distortion-level musician. There are sixteen clans supporting him to inherit the throne, and his future is bright. "

"What he wants is not the position of a saint, but to kill his two brothers and become the second, after his grandfather, the supreme emperor to dominate the entire Asgard."

The pope said: "He is not the right person."

The watcher shook his head: "I didn't say that the emperor could not be a saint."

"Those who can become emperors must not be saints." The pope said: "No matter from which point of view it is like this."

"Where is Rommel?"

The watcher asked again: "The small sharp knife of the Silent Organization, the mad dog. Thanks to Handel for making him. He is only twenty-four years old, and he has made great achievements. It is said that the demons call him an executioner, young and full of hands. Blood debt, you must like it."

"Fifteen years."

The pope replied after thinking for a moment: "After fifteen years, he will be a qualified saint, but it is difficult to expect in the short term."

"Alfonso in the Southern Phantom Islands, the strongest genius in the history of the Voodoo Crypt."

"After entering the distortion level, there is no breakthrough. It is the voodoo crypt that ruined him. He is a pioneering material and should not follow the old ways of his predecessors. The scepter is possible, but the saint has no time."

"There are a lot of talents in the Chantist school recently. Is it possible for the crazy woman who studies the limit of cell replication to succeed?"

"Angelina?"

The pope pondered for a moment and shook his head: "She is too young and has little experience. It will take at least twenty years to complete this proposition."

"Kasperhauser? Counting time, the animal inheritance has been completed on him."

"The scepter can be expected. But his brother is more likely to become a saint. However, whether he can accumulate more and more will depend on seven years later. The possibility is unknown."

"Where is Samuel at the Gate of Destruction? Isn't he the most promising person among the younger generation."

"He is dead."

"Dead?"

The watcher was taken aback for a moment, and shook his head: "What a pity, what about Colt from Rock Iron Academy?"

"Dead too."

"The imp of Burgundy, known as the Eagle of the Empire, will not die too?"

"Well, I'm also dead."

"Brother Karamazov of the Caucasus Federation?"

"They are all dead."

"Damn, is it popular among young people to find death recently?" The guard scolded an swear word, and looked at the pope after a long silence: "Then, what about the last magical Eastern kid?"

He stared at the Pope, "Our Marquis, the heir to the great blood of heaven and man, the sword bearer of Anglu, and at the same time, Mr. Ye Qingxuan, the son of the man of great rebellion, how about him?

Every era will have monsters like him appear. If you maintain the current momentum, in my opinion, he only needs five years at most. "No, he is the most unlikely." "

The pope interrupted him and shook his head decisively: "Ye Qingxuan will never be a saint in this life, no matter how outstanding he is."

"Why?" The guard was angry.

The pope looked at him with a cold tone: "Unless, one day you want a second revolutionary army to appear." "In the eyes of a guy like you, humans are all unsightly, right?"

"Perhaps."

"Is there anything perfect for you in this world?"

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps? Such ambiguous words are really rare for you."

The guard shook his head dissatisfiedly and stopped talking.

After a long silence, the pope no longer probes the sacred cauldron, but instead sets his sights on the guards.

The two faces are still alike, very strange.

"Duration."

The Pope asked, "How long will it take for the construction period?"

"It's coming soon."

The guard replied.

He turned around, walked down the altar with the pope, and waved.

In the silence, there was a loud roar of steel.

The loud noise was not from the top of the head, nor from the feet, but from all directions, as if the entire dark world was roaring with rage.

In the loud noise of steel, countless huge gears turned, levers operated, the flywheel rubbed sparks, and the chain and the winch collided, rubbing a harsh, high-pitched sound.

And more importantly, the loud noise like a heart.

Ten thousand tons of giant hammers hit the steel to make such a magnificent and thrilling sound.

The floor was opened under the operation of that complex mechanism, layer after layer unfolded, and what rose from the crack was the hot light of lava.

Under the feet of the two, in the huge abyss, is an endless lake of lava. Drawing a huge amount of heat, this indescribably huge machine can operate.

In the hot lava, gears hundreds of meters high riveted against each other, spinning endlessly.

Countless steels collide with each other under its traction, like an unmanned steel workshop.

The pope's sight was not attracted by this spectacle, but stared at the deepest part of the lava workshop, the core wrapped in countless steel gears and machinery.

The watcher stood beside him, and smiled as he looked down at the mammoth scenery.

"Almost soon"

In the evening.

Charles, who had been working wildly overtime for days, finally got off work at normal hours, and the four big cats and kittens of the Music History department are rare to get together.

It seems this is the first time since I came to the Holy City.

After obtaining the access permit, Abraham entrusted the embassy to book a restaurant, and decided to pay for it out of his own pocket to invite guests to celebrate.

Actually, the teacher is now the deputy director of the School of Enlightenment of the Royal Conservatory of Music, half the head.

The principal, the money-losing guy, doesn't treat the budget as money at all. He spends money very fiercely, and it is equally easy to send money. Now teachers’ monthly allowances and salaries are staggering figures.

Abraham has basically nothing to spend except for three meals a day.

He doesn't like smoking, and he doesn't like alcohol. My favorite thing is to stay in my study room and study.

Each month's laboratory materials and musician consumables are provided by the school. After he becomes the deputy director, he has sufficient authority to enter and exit the library, and there is no need to spend money to buy books.

As a result, wages have become a pile of figures stored in the cult bank, and according to the current trend, they will only accumulate more and more. After getting used to the hard days, Charles' eyes turned green when he saw the teacher's deposit record. Now I'm still begging my teacher to sponsor myself a little more research funds every month.

He doesn't know how much money he has embezzled in the Royal Academy and the recent cult. Logically speaking, it should not be poor.

But like him, he buys wine and drinks when he has money, and fills his brain when he has a windfall. In order to realize his kind of unreliable brain hole, he no longer knows how much money he put in.

Just a few days ago, he also took the path of the Armament Department of the Holy City and bought half of the gospel armor and a lot of materials.

Of course, he himself said that he was going to redesign a set of exoskeleton attire for Ye Qingxuan, but the Silent Organization didn't believe it at all and was closely monitoring him.

Buying and collecting armor of this type of war weapon in the Holy City, what do you really want to do?

For this, Ye Qingxuan could only squeeze a cold sweat for Shire, and by the way, intercede for him at the wolf flute.

After eating this meal, Charles, who was about to be suffocated under the rules and regulations of the holy city, had enough bad words. Ye Qingxuan was dragged by him, and he was helplessly accepting spiritual pollution. Abraham just smiled and watched.

As a result, Bai Xi quietly eaten everything.

When they feel hungry, they can only see a pile of empty plates

Listening to Shire and Bai Xi's quarrel, Ye Qingxuan and the teacher couldn't help but smile at each other.

He hadn't experienced such a peaceful life for a long time. Sitting with the teacher, Charles and Bai Xi for dinner, it was so noisy, but there was a sense of peace in his heart.

It's like a family.

He stretched out his hand and called the waiter.

The waiter came here with a bitter expression on his face.

"Mr. has just reserved a guest here."

The waiter pointed to the restaurant that had become vacant at some point, and pulled a bunch of words like I'm very sorry for today's free order, and euphemistically revealed whether he could leave as soon as possible.

"Private the venue?"

Ye Qingxuan frowned.

Just when he was about to speak~IndoMTL.com~ a voice sounded behind the waiter: "Sorry, these are my friends. I booked the venue today to be able to have a pleasant talk with them, you can Go down."

Ye Qingxuan was taken aback and looked up.

This is a middle-aged man with a little premature aging, about forty years old, with grey hair, but looks gentle and gentle, very demeanor, which makes people feel good.

Surprisingly, he is an Oriental.

And, deja vu.

Ye Qingxuan noticed that Bai Xi's expression became gloomy.

"Sorry, excuse me."

In the confused eyes of several people, the middle-aged oriental man smiled softly: "When we first met, I am Yunlou Qingshu, and I am an oriental."

He paused for a moment, and dropped the bomb that made everyone trapped.

"At the same time, he is also Bai Xi's father." To be continued.