The candle flames converged into a warm ocean, and there seemed to be a nameless wind passing by, slightly dàng) rippling, with an eerie sacredness.

It was perhaps the most twisted and grotesque scene the plague doctor had ever seen, he had dismembered countless demons and created many strange and evil things, but none of them could compare to what he was seeing now.

Like a ritual of execution, the chair of the sea of candles that surrounds it is the altar, and Imam Lawrence is the poor sacrifice.

Imam Lawrence's body twitched in pain, as if something was draining his life force, his already old body was rapidly aging, his skin was shriveled and revealing dense blue veins, and blood flowed uncontrollably, pouring out of his ears and nose.

The plague doctor knew that Sect Laurence was wrong, but he didn't know anything about the [gap], and he didn't even know how to help him.

But then there was a huge amount of pressure, and it felt strange, not like erosion, just a simple pressure, as if someone was watching him, and then he saw the faint glow that emerged from Imam Lawrence.

It was a path of light that was difficult to capture with normal vision, and the plague doctor could see it faintly, and those dim paths of light converged into a strange human form...... It was as if it was the soul of Imam Lawrence, who was slowly being pulled out of his body.

"Epidemic doctor!"

Suddenly, a voice rang out.

Imam Lawrence opened his closed eyes, blood-red as if they were about to burst open, and he was as hideous as a demon, twisted and hateful.

"Epidemic doctor!"

He roared again, only to find Imam Lawrence's eyes blank...... He couldn't see himself, and at the moment his consciousness was elsewhere, and it was only by virtue of that terrible survival that he had briefly achieved two lines of work.

As the plague doctor approached slowly, he was wary, and ever since he met Imam Lawrence, this mysterious witcher had always refreshed his worldview.

Stepping on the wax that had not yet solidified, just as the plague doctor was about to touch Imam Lawrence, his godless eyes suddenly lit up a little, as if ashes had rekindled.

"Lawrence ......"

The plague doctor shouted hesitantly, but then all the pain and hideousness disappeared.

Something had happened, but the doctor had not yet been able to detect it, and he was alert to the danger in that position, and then looked at him.

Imam Lawrence looked at him calmly, his gaze flashing with a momentary confusion, but then it became clear.

The atmosphere was a little delicate, the madness and grotesqueness of the moment had all vanished, as if it were an unpleasant vision, and it was all over, and there was only a dead silence that could hardly be broken.

The two pairs of eyes looked at each other for a short time, maintaining a strange tacit understanding, and the next moment, a sharp bone blade popped out from the arm of the epidemic doctor, making a whistling sound, and slashing down fiercely.

It was a thunderous attack, and although he had always looked like a scholar, the plague doctor was also very confident in his fighting skills, and this blow could directly cut off the enemy's head and kill him directly.

But the expected death did not come, and Laureus drew his nail sword, blocking the bone blade at the last moment, but it was also a step too slow to come out, and the impact of the bone blade suppressed the nail sword, and the blade half sank into his shoulder, and the blood flowed slowly.

"Is that what it is?"

A familiar voice sounded, but it was so strange at this moment.

"Who are you!"

The plague doctor yelled, and sure enough, he guessed correctly, Imam Lawrence had made a mistake, and he had been invaded in reverse.

Watson didn't seem bothered to answer his words, and through the body of Imam Lawrence, she spied into everything in her field of vision.

She could feel the presence of that thing, the disgusting smell that she would never forget.

Seeing this, the epidemic doctor directly launched another attack, he didn't care about the damage to Sect Laureus's body, anyway, with his skills, even if there was only one head left, he could save it for you, of course, he didn't guarantee what the rescue would look like in the end.

The slender bone spurs directly pierced the palm of the plague doctor, like a sharp bayonet sword, directly nailing Laureus's thigh to death, and then the bone spurs were broken, and new bone spurs instantly proliferated, like a long nail to suppress evil spirits and stabbed down again.

"Get out of here!"

A new voice rang out, and Remister Lawrence roared, perhaps a will-to-do counterattack, and the falling nail sword paused for a moment, and new bone spurs pierced through his joints, locking his sword-wielding hand tightly.

The blood-stained hand pressed the skull, and the hideous half of the face gasped for breath.

He was so close to death.

"You took what you shouldn't have taken, Lawrence, and you deserve the price. ”

The pain is followed by calm words, and at the moment it is like a schizophrenic patient, fighting against himself, terrible and evil.

Imam Lawrence murmured in pain.

"What the hell are you?"

"What the hell are you?"

In the middle of that battlefield, in the mysterious gap.

After a long period of pain, Imam Lawrence finally got a little respite, but he was still clutched, the woman grabbed him by the throat, the other hand clenched his heart, she was constantly invading Sheak Lawrence's thoughts, and soon he would become her.

Lorenzo seemed to have lost consciousness, he was like a parasitic insect, Watson tormented Imam Lawrence by breaking open his body, most of his body sticking out of Lorenzo's torn open mouth.

This is the world of spirits, all of which is nothing but the embodiment of the "self", Lorenzo's consciousness is torn apart, and the abomination is trying to crawl outward.

"Where is it?"

Watson interrogated again, looking down at the twisted and painful face, Imam Lawrence could no longer speak.

Memories of the past keep flashing in my mind, yellowed and old, with an ancient taste.

That was a long time ago, when Imam Lawrence was still a child, when the steam engine did not exist, and the sword and shield of the knights dominated the battlefield.

He saw the twilight of the emerald emerald, and in the hazy light, the magnificent church was like a forest of iron trees, and the sparkling waves on the Tiber River reflected the beauty of childhood.

Children run on the green meadows, nuns enter the church with a shallow smile, bells ring, and prayers rise like waves.

The warm, familiar embrace soothed him, and just as he was about to fall completely, there was an eerie chill welling up.

Imam Lawrence said with a little nostalgia.

"That's why I think demons should be damned......"

In the moment of almost falling, he came to his senses, and his angry gaze looked directly at the woman.

She was teasing his memories, the good old days.

Watson searched for its traces following the memories of Imam Lawrence.

Patriarch Lawrence had lived far too long, so long that the people who had known him had died, so long that even the places where he had lived had lost all traces of the past.

Those memories were his last warmth, the last evidence of being a human being, the softness buried deep in his mind.

But now someone is touching it and trying to tease themselves with it.

He was full of anger.

"Isn't it good to die in a memory?"

Watson asked, a little confused.

His watch was like a sleeping baby, and it would be the best death, and all the weary travelers would get what he wanted, but he struggled to break free, unwilling to step into the tranquil beauty.

"Very good...... But that wasn't the death I deserved. ”

Imam Lawrence was furious.

He slowly raised his hand, and then clenched the arm that strangled his neck.

It's just a seemingly weak action, but at this moment it has a different meaning.

He was able to do it, and under Watson's almost crushing will, he did a slight resistance, only a pre-death resistance, but it was enough.

"I should have died in that not-so-distant future, not here. ”

His voice was hoarse back to dàng), like the roar of a dead man.

Yes, that's where Lawrence ends, and he's willing to die, as long as that's the end.

Then the consciousness that was almost shattered re-strengthened, and it held itself in the storm.

He tore at himself like those mad believers, mutilating himself, it was a sacrifice to God, it was a sacrifice to Imam Lawrence, a sacrifice to himself, a sacrifice to the ideal.

For a moment Watson froze, she had never imagined that the human will would go so far, even ...... It can't be called human anymore.

So mad, so angry, forever boiling, unquenchable rage.

Imam Lawrence tore at his own, sharp nails tearing skin and blood, strong bones forcibly breaking and dripping blood.

He was cutting through his own consciousness, forcibly separating the part that Watson was desperately grasping from his consciousness.

Like a sick man with a knife, he removes the rotten blood from his body little by little.

The intense pain was as if thousands of wild dogs were gnawing and eating their bodies, and every second was so long, like the most cruel capital punishment.

But it doesn't matter anymore.

"It's not my time to die, I can see it!"

He laughed wildly and kicked Watson's body open, and Watson could only perceive the weight of his hand, and then all the parts she had invaded were out of Patriarch Lawrence's consciousness.

He seemed to be laughing at her, and his body began to blur, as if he were about to disappear into the gap.

"Don't try to escape! Lawrence!"

Watson roared, and she stretched out her hand with all her might, almost enough to capture Sheikh Lawrence's consciousness completely, but at this moment, countless chains pierced out of Lorenzo's wounds, like crazy thorns that wrapped her heavily, and then dragged her back into the cold world.

She struggled, but she couldn't stop being dragged back until she was completely reintegrated into Lorenzo's wounds.

All you can hear is the faint sound of the waves falling into the water, and everything is silent again.