Black flames filled the sky, and the air smelled of sulfur. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info

The ground is full of potholes, paved with black, broken black stones.

Some strangely shaped animals running over the ground always kick up a huge cloud of black dust.

Occasionally, you can see some flames suddenly erupting from the stones.

The twisted human soul is entangled in the flames, constantly twisting as it changes, and if some fragile infernal creature is accidentally contaminated, they themselves will be burned and disappear. Either these creatures will eat the black flames and become stronger, or they will be infiltrated by human souls and become carriers of their reincarnation, and then they will be picked by other demons passing by and eaten in one bite like a normal afternoon dessert.

Even the flowers and plants on the roadside are buried with countless evils, and they will attack other creatures with impunity in order to survive.

I don't know how many bones are buried under the dark soil.

Lillard saw patches of dead trees blocking the way.

Their fragility shatters at the slightest tapping, not even the trees of the Green Forest, but they occupy a corner of this dangerous area. Lillard sat still, staring around with blank eyes. He couldn't have imagined how he had entered here from the calm and peaceful hall in a daze.

Is this a dream or reality?

The paralyzing sensation on the ground as if stung by a jellyfish is constantly sending a message of pain to the contact surface.

Lillard picked up a complete stone, a tiny cross-section of the faces of countless creatures, and his expressions of pain were constantly changing. These faces are constantly changing the area to which they belong, and although they are said to be stones, they produce an extremely terrifying visual effect when they look at them. What's more, Lillard is still a dense phobia, a small stone composed of countless human faces, and those restrained souls inside are constantly trying to burrow into Lillard's body.

At this time, he realized that his butt would hurt so much, all because these people were gnawing at him.

He slowly stood up, his mind still as dizzy as drunk.

At this moment, he has basically lost his mind, and if even one in ten thousand knows the danger here, he will try to wake himself up.

But now he just wondered why he had been summoned here.

In this dead silence, apart from the wailing of souls, there are only insects and hound-sized creatures foraging for food, and they go around bypassing Lillard, occasionally sniffing at where Lillard is, then howling a few times before circling away.

Leillard watched the creatures bewildered, and he wanted to reach out and touch them, but they ran away from the area where Leillard was, their claws slashing twice into the ground, and then they whined and quickly left.

He hurried in the direction of the hounds, which ran into the rising mist, and then vanished.

Lillard looked around him suspiciously, except for the ground under his feet, which was still black, and the sky and the earth were wrapped in these gray-white mist. He walked out in great confusion, and he could only go on like this at this time.

I walked in the wilderness for days and nights, and I saw not a drop of water.

Thirst and hunger take over the whole body.

Lactic and aching muscles kept stopping him from moving on.

Lillard licked his dry lips, and he could still smell blood in his cracked lips.

The sad smell of rust made him nauseous and wanted to vomit.

The mist cut off everything, whether it was the sound or the throbbing of the soul, even the stones made of human faces beneath their feet lay silently underneath.

The feeling of vomiting disappeared, and was replaced by painful thoughts that kept churning in my heart.

Sadness, pain, self-blame, prayers for forgiveness, and so on poured in.

Lillard felt that his internal organs were constantly being kneaded by invisible hands, and the various mistakes caused by his own coming into the world, as well as the pain of his extreme frustration and sadness when he watched the person he once liked throw into the arms of others and happily express happiness in various social areas, hit his whole body again. The moral self-blame of crossing this world, ruining many families, and forcing other women to follow him against his will, also burned his soul, and his incompetence, despondency, lack of enterprising spirit, and all kinds of contemptuous eyes of other people in his fantasy were also poured out in his ears.

Rosa's angry screams, Elsa's indifferent gaze, Istta's taunting taunts, Tim's angry complaints, and all kinds of negative emotions of the girls around him also burned in the bottom of his heart, from a small spark to a hot flame that wrapped his body and fried his internal organs.

The cold outside of her body and the heat inside her body mixed together, causing Lerald to curl up on the ground and moan in pain.

The stones beneath him also spewed scorching flames, and the women who had turned into zombies in Lairad's territory, their once extremely painful and dark encounters were also turned into waves that swept over again, and these flames made Leirad's skin melt into melted cream little by little, turning into an unknown oil-like substance that slowly seeped into the ground.

The body, which is hot and cold, also feels spontaneous joy because of the death of life consciousness.

"Am I going to die?"

Looking at his corrupted hands, the red flesh and blood decomposing on their own, and the white bones about to emerge from the minced flesh, lying limply on the ground, Leillard found that this long-overdue death seemed to really make people happy from the heart.

In fact, I really wanted to die for a long time?

Lillard lay on the ground, thinking a little idle.

He really didn't have much to do, and he really experienced what he had hoped to experience.

He is also not a very demanding person in life.

I don't like anyone, and I don't think anyone will like him.

It is estimated that even if he died, no one would care.

In his past memories, he only felt that he always brought all kinds of pain to others, and he couldn't satisfy others or satisfy himself. I can't even say everything out loud. He wants others to be happy, and he wants others to be happy. But where is your own joy and happiness? His sinful body didn't seem to be able to find much reason to stay.

He enjoyed all the ways he had looked forward to playing, and finally completed the Thousand People Kill from a virgin, and also tried to make some magic guides, and even built several homes and made a small city for his own amusement. There were thousands of subordinates, and there were hundreds of believers, but they disappeared from the ground with a slight shake like soot. He found that these were actually more like a dream, a dream that made his insignificant little person a little satisfied.

In the end, I have never succeeded in doing anything, I have never accomplished anything, and I have not planned to do things.

This attitude of living with the tide of waste wood has not been changed from the past to the present.

So waste wood is still waste wood after all. If it weren't for others pushing him and forcibly pressing him to follow the plan, he probably wouldn't have been able to accomplish anything.

Any villain has a firm perseverance that will not let go until the goal is reached.

Any decent person just needs to know what the villain wants to do, and then keep blocking it.

Serfs know how to farm, nobles know that they are born to oppress others, blacksmiths need to strike iron, magicians need to study the laws of nature, everyone knows what they are doing and what they need to do.

But Lillard never knew what he needed.

Maybe before, he could still say that if he died, these girls wouldn't be able to live. He lives to live for the better of others.

Now, however, they have food and drink, and goblin subordinates to drive, and even if Lillard disappears, they can still survive here. Lillard felt that there was little need for him to exist.

Whenever he thinks of the other people's secretly lost and painful expressions, Leillard feels guilty inwardly.

He is easily infected by other people's emotions, although he himself says that he is the head of the family, but he still does not get rid of the attitude of watching other people's colors and eating. I have never had a correct understanding of myself. Compared with those painful endings, he hoped that his own death would be exchanged for the happiness of others. Because he has always felt that his existence is meaningless.

He doesn't make money, he doesn't make people happy, and he's a very selfish human being.

He didn't know what he needed to do other than H.

Do you want those girls to give up everything and get tired of him between the bed?

No kidding, everyone else is a person with ideals and ambitions, and there is a world of difference between them and a small person like themselves. Others are constantly shining for their own ideals! What reason does he have, what qualifications does he have, what position does he have to ask others to stay with him?

Lillard does not deny that if he did not exist, the rest of the people must have a better future.

But it is impossible for the living Lillard to let others leave on their own because of the strong possessiveness in his heart.

He was timid and cowardly, hot-tempered and selfish.

If he really let everyone else breathe a sigh of relief and live the life he likes, and he won't let himself have the kind of pre-death experience that is difficult to breathe with heartache for a long time, he feels that he is dead, and it is good for everyone.

Yes, he who is dead is better than him who is alive.

After death, you don't have to think about it, you don't have to worry about whether others are happy or not, whether you are sad or not, whether you have to feel guilty because of morality, and you don't have to rack your brains every day to compensate others, you no longer have to blame yourself for lying, you will never worry about your lies being exposed, and you don't have to worry about whether you can live in peace tomorrow. Every night, the demons invaded, and the painful scenes of his own women being killed often woke him up.

Whenever he had a nightmare, he would always move a chair and sit in the hall by himself, his eyes wide open, forcing himself to forget his sleepiness, and then sit here all night, always on the lookout for possible danger.

This kind of worrying days made him very annoying.

He also suffered a nervous breakdown because of this, and even training Hildis could not relieve him of the pressure in his heart.

Now he can finally get rid of the suffering of these days.

The incompetent just need to pass away. The sun is still rising, and the planets are still spinning.

The traverser is still coming in waves, and there will always be people who will succeed and reap defeats.

Nor can they get rid of the settlement of death.

I just walked a few steps less, and choosing death is not choosing despair.

Death is actually a perfect footnote to the dragon life that so many of his people have failed.

This proves that he, at last, has no fear of death and has a rare quality that can be called courage.

Thinking about his possible epitaph, Lillard smiled openly.

The flames on his body burned even more vigorously.

In a moment, he will be freed from this endless suffering.

What a gratifying congratulations! Congratulations! (To be continued.) )