Chapter 1517: Awakening in the Nightmare (11)

At the same time (?), Great Britain, in the mansion of Prince Kay.

"Really, what do you all think!" After Vivien had lectured Husky and Evil Star, she glared at Husky and snorted, "Sneak out like this in the middle of the night, don't you know the danger?

"Bah-" Husky stuck out his tongue, "Husky knows it's wrong...... ＂

"And you're also—"

"I was forced. Xinghui Long said with an innocent face: "If you don't do this, this little ghost won't be honest at all." ＂

"Really make excuses. Vivien turned her head to glance at Kai again.

"Ahem...... the red-haired knight immediately defended himself, "I thought about stopping them, but the Evil Star flew so fast that it flew away in the blink of an eye." ＂

"Yes, you're responsible. Vivien glared at Kai coldly.

"Hey. Then she let out a long sigh: "Forget it." Anyway, you'll be safe. I probably shouldn't blame you, Husky. Whatever you did in that hut, your actions ultimately helped the kid and freed him from the succubus's mind control. At the end of the day, it was your actions that saved the child, and you did something noble. ＂

"Hey—" Husky was about to laugh, but was too frightened by Vivien's stern glare.

Vivien frowned: "It's not too early, you guys go to bed." Husky, I'll tell your mom exactly what you did tonight. It's up to her to decide how your mother will punish you when she hears this. ＂

"Whew...... The canine boy drooped his ears.

Evil Star snickered.

An hour later. Husky turned off the lamp, sighed, and lay down on the bed. When I see Mommy Lianyin tomorrow, I'm afraid it's a real hell.

"Yes, yes, sleep, sleep. Evil Star also turned into a small golden lizard and flew back to his basket and lay down. On the side of the basket was the Saber of the Evil Star, the crimson demon knife that had been sealed. This way, even if they are suddenly attacked in the middle of the night, the Evil Star can immediately take up arms and resist.

"Uncle Devil, is Brother Daniel really okay?" Husky asked worriedly.

"Why are you still worried about that kid?" said Evilstar, lying with his back to Husky, "we have done everything we can, and whether he can be saved or not depends on his own creation." ＂

In reality, it is almost impossible for Daniel to survive. Evil Star muttered to himself. Daniel was poisoned by a succubus, and there was no cure for that poison, and there is absolutely no antidote to it in the world. Daniel probably won't live to see the sun tomorrow. But Husky had done his best to save Daniel, and there was no need for Husky to know if Daniel would survive in the end.

Go to sleep. With mixed thoughts, Evil Star closed his eyes.

At the same time, the crimson demon knife beside the evil star also began to emit a strange shimmer. The shimmer wasn't bright, at least not enough to illuminate the interior of the room, and the Starlight Dragon slept with his back to Husky, who was also trying to close his eyes with his back to the Starlight Dragon and facing the direction of the door, so neither of them could see the glow from the Demon Blade.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. Bediwell was woken up by the sound of striking iron.

He opened his eyes and looked at it, and found himself in a world of black and white.

It's not so much about being woken up as it is about entering a dream. Everything in this world is like a painting, but the style of this painting is completely different from all the oil paintings that Bediville has ever seen, its lines are simple and rough, almost composed only of black and white. Those thick black lines outline the world's peaks and mountains, outline the clouds and stone patterns, outline the sky and the horizon.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. In this strange dream world, in a valley far away, someone seemed to be striking iron. The sound was rhythmic and lingered through the mines. Bediwell had heard a similar sound of striking iron, a melody of iron and fire that would only be struck by the most skilled weaponsmiths.

Somebody's striking iron here? In this kind of hellish place?

Driven by curiosity, Bediwell decided to stop by to find out what was going on - in fact, he didn't have much choice, because in this world outlined by rough black and white lines, there was only one straight road leading to the distance, and the direction Bediwell followed the straight was exactly the direction of the banging sound.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. The sound of striking iron was getting closer, and Bediwell could see a small workshop in the distance. Of course, this workshop is also made of black and white lines, almost like a building in a painting. The reddish glow in the workshop is probably the only color in this black and white world.

"That-" Bediwell knocked on the door as she approached the building, "Is anyone there?"

No response. However, the clatter of the iron came to an abrupt end. The people in the workshop had apparently heard Bediwell's knock on the door.

"Is anyone there?" the werewolf knocked on the door again, hoping for a response.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. However, the sound of striking iron was heard again. The other party was clearly deliberately ignoring Bediwell.

A veil sprouted from the werewolf youth's forehead (at least as he thought). He continued to knock on the door harder, and increased the intensity to speed up the frequency: "Come on, open the door quickly!"

Knock knock knock. The other party ignored Bediwell's knock, but deliberately played Bediwell's door, the sound of striking iron was adjusted to the same frequency as Bediwell's knocking, and the sound of the man in the workshop hitting the iron was as fast as Bediwell's knocking on the door.

"You must be joking with me......" Bediwell was furious, and knocked harder on the door, knocking with both hands.

The werewolf knocked faster and faster.

Knock knock!

Knock, knock, knock. Beddiwell knocked and knocked into music.

Knock, knock. The other party also beat to the beat.

"Ah, I know. Doesn't seem to be a geist. That's when a man's voice came from the room. And this voice spoke a very strange foreign language, which Bediwell did not understand at all, but for some reason, the words entered the ears of the werewolf youth, and gradually became a thought that Bediwell could understand, and became a sentence that he could understand.

Psychic art. If the other party uses telekinesis to convey simple thoughts, then it is true that even if the words are not understood, you can barely understand what the other person is saying.

"You still look awake. The other man opened the door to the workshop and glanced at Bediwell.

Bediwell also looked at the other party. In front of the werewolf youth was a short man, and judging by his beard, which was not thick or thin, he was probably between thirty or forty years old. The skin is slightly yellow, with a wheat tint, and the eyes are as small as two slits. Judging by the man's appearance, it was clear that he was not a European. Is it supposed to be of African or Eastern European descent? No, I always feel that something is wrong.

"Who the hell are you, and what is this place?" asked Bediwell. Standard English, of course.

"Who are you, and why did you come to such a place?" the other asked rhetorically, in a strange language, which Bediwell probably understood through teleportation.

"I'm Bediville. I was just sleeping in my hotel room and I don't know why, I suddenly came to this ...... Uh, in a world of black and white lines?"

"Interesting...... An ordinary person. The wonderful middle-aged blacksmith snorted, "It is impossible for an ordinary person's soul to be sucked into here for no reason. Did you be killed with a demon knife while you were sleeping? ＂

"I'm not dead! Don't kill anyone!" Bediwell said angrily. He was cautious before going to bed, locking the door of his room tightly and making sure that there were no Assassins lurking in the room. And Bediwell is not an ordinary person, and it is impossible for someone to sneak up and die in his sleep. The other party wants to kill him, and when he just shows hostility, the werewolf will be awakened.

"Well, that's weird. It's impossible for ordinary people to run into here for no reason. The wonderful exotic blacksmith pondered.

"So what the hell is this place?" said Bediwell, a little impatient.

"You can call it a world in a painting. The blacksmith said: "This world was originally a part of the alien space created by a national treasure of my motherland, and I intercepted it and stored it in my life's work - [Demon Sword Crimson Muramasa]. ＂

"What?" the werewolf couldn't help but be confused.

"Hmph, I forgot to introduce myself. The blacksmith smiled coldly at the werewolf youth: "I am the swordsmith Muramasa, the forger of the Penglai knife, and I have cast a total of 3,666 objects in my life, and more than 60 have become great tools. The world in which we live today is the world in which I last lived my life, the demon sword Crimson Muramasa. ＂

He looked at Bedeville: "And your soul and my soul are now trapped in this world, from which we will never be able to leave until we are completely gone. ＂

"What the hell are you talking nonsense!" Bediwell exclaimed, "How could I be trapped here! I was sleeping in my hotel room a minute ago!"

"Then someone must have sent your soul in. Muramasa sneered: "Generally speaking, the soul of a person killed by the demon knife Muramasa will be sucked into the world in the painting. ＂

"I repeat, I'm not dead!" said Bedeville, grimacing.

"A lot of people who have been here say that, but they're all dead. Swordsmith Village sneered.

Then Bediwell suddenly hit a wit. It dawned on him why he was here.