Joseph Sr. was actually selfish.

Yes, he wanted to discredit Kruvien from his sincerity - but that had nothing to do with Kruvian's "betrayal of Lord Orlando."

Joseph Sr. was simple, pure, trying to exclude dissent.

He had devoted all his adoration and total loyalty to Roland, and therefore could not tolerate Kruvien standing above him in an unhumble manner.

In fact, his fifty years as a pastor of the dark gods had a far more lasting impact on Joseph Sr. than he had imagined.

It is necessary to survive on the profit of improper behavior - under the persecution of such doctrines, every priest of the dark god has become more or less a scumbag. Kacarit is a rare exception - he is not a scumbag, but a madman.

One can imagine what kind of place such a group of people would turn into the temple of the dark god when they came together.

Betrayal is commonplace, cruelty is a condiment, and intrigue is as addictive as spirits.

Enjoying this mental poison as a daily diet will distort even the most normal human mind.

Of course, in Joseph Sr.'s own eyes, he was not at fault at all.

As a loyal servant who swore an oath to the Lord of Orlando, it naturally made sense to keep the secrets of the Lord of Orlando.

Lord Orlando once said to himself, "Gather as much information as you can without revealing yourself, and you can make your own decisions on important matters that you don't have time to report to me." ”

Discretion -

Thinking of the look on the face of Lord Orlando when he said this to himself, Joseph Sr.'s old face was still full of irrepressible excitement.

That's the poison called trust. Product.

The previous two words have absolutely nothing to do with Joseph Sr. It's like two parallel lines, almost never intersecting.

With even a semblance of knowledge of the teachings of the Lord of the Darkness, no one would have complete trust in Joseph Sr. Unless it's the kind of unweaned child who is so naïve that he doesn't understand the dangers of the world at all.

Is Orlando a man like that?

“…… No. Necessarily not. ”

Old Joseph chuckled under his breath, his eyes shining brightly. Wrinkles on the face are folded.

He remembered the look on the face of Lord Orlando as he looked at the burning City of Wealth.

That's right, Lord Orlando did cry, and he did ask rhetorically about his crimes.

But Joseph Sr. believed, and even the Lord Orlando himself probably didn't know that his mouth was smiling when he covered his cheeks with his hands and wept.

That smile made old Joseph feel creepy.

If it's just a madman's smile, it's okay. The point is. Joseph Sr. looked back and thought that every step of Lord Orlando, although it seemed inexplicable at the time, looked back and saw that almost every neglected action had made a huge difference.

To Joseph Sr., Orlando was like an indifferent doctor, comforting his patients with that creepy smile and a soft voice as gentle and warm as a lover's whisper. The groaning patient's abdominal cavity is dissected, and then the internal organs are systematically removed, sorted, bottled and sealed.

Until death, the patient thought he had just failed the operation. As everyone knows, even the initial relief of illness was designed by Orlando people.

How would such a terrible person be naïve enough to believe in himself?

How is it possible?

Old Joseph smiled self-deprecatingly.

No one knew him better than himself.

His acting skills can also favor those who are hot-blooded. Anyone with the slightest bit of heart can know that he has bad intentions.

Just like Lord Orlando, he saw through his disguise at the beginning, and played with him as planned, and finally took over the leadership of the team in one fell swoop.

You know, at that time, if Joseph Sr. had been a little more ruthless, a little more stupid, and a little more arrogant, and had launched an attack on the Orlando people who were in trouble, he would have completely disrupted Orlando's entire plan.

But Orlando just had that look of course. Accurately stepped on Joseph Sr.'s bottom line.

That's the kind of look --

Joseph Sr.'s old face couldn't help but show a little fanaticism.

The confidence to trust yourself completely and not to betray is not from naivety. It's real self-confidence.

He bet that Joseph would never dare to betray or oppose him. He believed that he would be able to handle Joseph Sr., the habitual dog of the Lord, and did not even put him on a leash.

The kind of self-confidence that seems to know everything and everything is expected can always bring a steady stream of confidence to those around you. This kind of trust made Joseph Sr. rarely enthusiastic.

No one was more certain than Joseph Sr. that Orlando was bound to become a legend.

Orlando may be too young to be strong, well-connected, or decisive enough to survive with a broken arm - but as long as the self-confidence of a prophet who knows everything remains, he will die with a bang.

Become a dark hero, a legend who saves the world by evil means - God knows. It was a long-drowned dream that Joseph Sr. had held when he was still Joseph Jr.

He grew up under the teachings of the dark gods, which was already the kindest justice he could see in his eyes.

And now, I'm going to die.

Joseph Sr. was clear about this.

To be precise, I still have one year and two months left in my life. As a veteran pastor, he has long seen the limits of his lifespan. This is the permanent damage caused by years of exposure to negative energy and poisons.

But. It's a ridiculous dream. Joseph Sr., however, saw the possibility of realization before he died.

Although it was on another person.

But who says that when people are old, they can't be crazy like children?

"Orlando-sama, you don't need waste."

Pale fervor gradually rose from old Joseph's eyes.

Unbeknownst to Orlando, Joseph Sr. had secretly changed his faith to the same Sleeping Mentor as Orlando, and had been given the job of "martyr".

Having achieved this level, how can those who have given nothing be allowed to stand higher than themselves?

Old Joseph hunched his back and thought as a matter of course.

I want to live.

I want to follow Orlando.

I want to see my naïve dreams come true.

The power of incomparably strong conviction burned in the heart of Joseph Sr., and the power of substance gradually condensed in his mind.

"Lord Orlando doesn't need betrayers—"

As if self-hypnotized, Old Joseph muttered.

He narrowed his old and dizzy eyes, and his relentless pupils that shimmered with silver-gray metallic light gradually locked Kruvine in the distance.

Fifty years of assassination is enough for him to understand the flaws of most professions.

The shield defender's hatred perception, the shield dancer's instinctive first attack, and reflexive parry, all made the fat mountain man named Kruvien as difficult to attack as a hedgehog.

However, Kruvien had a fatal flaw -

Suddenly, silver-gray flames slowly flowed out of Old Joseph's eyes like sticky brains, and although there was no temperature, his face quickly rotted and festered.

As if he had been truly burned by the flames, Joseph Sr. felt an unbearable burning sensation.

But the pain was like a joke to him.

In this way, he endured the pain of burning his eyes with poisonous fire, and with bitter hatred for the dark god who ruined his life, he sang the only prayer he could learn: "God gave me over to the ungodly, and cast me into the hands of the wicked—" (To be continued......

PS：…… After reading this chapter, don't talk about my secondary two, it's obvious that the old man returned to the light before he died, and the second disease recurred, and I didn't recite this pot.