The Byzantian Holy See, the spiritual father of the continent and the issuer of the bread of faith, has always called the ancestral temple made of boulders in the wild continent the Tower of Sin - Babylon, and this new midgod councilor will collectively add a layer of height for thousands of years, the height has exceeded the Pantheon of Mount Olympia, and gradually approached the Mayan Snow Mountain Temple with innate advantages, as a human victory over the dragon and finally signed the "Commandment of Moses" The eleven ways to obtain the Crow Badge, in addition to signing a master-servant contract with the High Dragons, is recognized as the most heroic and epic is to go to the distant wilderness land alone, and go to the shamanic temple to tear down a boulder with her own hands. It can be seen that this temple dedicated to the souls of tens of thousands of shamanic ancestors and martyrs is so majestic that it must be a shamanic sorcerer who has made meritorious achievements and achievements in his lifetime, so that he can float on the altar of the temple with a pure soul after death, and overlook the continent forever, until the day recorded in the last chapter of the Book of Prophecy written by the greatest prophet in shamanic history: "We are sharp arrows, shoot down angels, leave the low places to their gods, and keep the high places for ourselves."

The temple towering over the vast plains of the Weepers, standing at the bottom of the building, even without any clouds, could not see the apex a thousand years ago.

Here, a terrible war was just born.

The momentum is comparable to the war between human empires that put hundreds of thousands of troops into each other, but it only belongs to the two well-deserved kings of the barbarian continent. Duke Maga Black Sheep, who is purer than Aube the Dwarf, has been the greatest character on the shamanic throne for three hundred years, and in the three hundred long years after ascending to the top, except for the last challenge that caused a little trouble to this king, no shaman's descendants can withstand the shaman's "horn of destruction", and they have all turned into humble dust, as the price of provoking the emperor, and cannot enter the temple after death. And this time, it's another challenge of that trouble, a crazy adventure that gambles everything, even if she's the most prominent shaman queen of our time, in both the summoning of the golden subspecies and the soul transition.

The fierce war, which lasted for a day and a night, finally calmed down, and hundreds of shamans who had been selected to serve as honorable priests in the temple since childhood returned to their original positions, and with shock and awe in their hearts, the war that took place in the plain of the weepers at the foot of the mountain slowly ended. A temple elder who was also the deputy chairman of the last seat of the [Demigod] crouched under a wall, stretched out a withered hand to caress the ancient cuneiform writing on the wall, and the place he was in meant the most rigorous inheritance, the most glorious perch. The old man is very short, even if he stands up straight by human standards, it is less than one hundred and sixty centimeters, not to mention that he is still squatting at this time, and the most helpless thing is that behind him stands a student with the blood of the Titans, who has reached two hundred and fifty centimeters in a gentle form, and in comparison, the old man looks more and more small, and the moment when the old man's fingers grope is a white eagle holding an olive, the lines are peaceful, but the ancient words are full of resentment: the flood recedes, and their god stands here and promises that the land as far as the eye can see will be flowing with milk and honey, but we are deceived, so we will hold a long sword and pierce the starry sky。

"The girl you have a crush on lost to the invincible Maga sheep?" the old man may be old, and his logic is very confused, since the shaman emperor is invincible, who can win? This is a redundant question.

The student said gloomily: "Our emperor still sounded the horn of destruction, which shows that he is really angry this time. ”

The old man, who was short and even less tall because of his hunchback, sighed softly, "I have bad ears and can't hear." ”

The student, whose strength was absolutely proportional to his size, said angrily, "Aren't your ears deafened by the Speaker's horn of destruction?"

The dwarf laughed, "Dante, thank you for the reminder." I'm sorry, but the teacher's memory is not good. ”

The student snorted coldly.

The dwarf stood up, walked to the temple railing, waved his hand, brushed away the wind and sand, trying to see some of the scenery below, the weeping plain was dusty because of the war, so that the temple was shrouded in sand, but the temple experienced several tornadoes and sandstorms every year, and the temple sacrifices were taken for granted, like the student of the elf elder, Dante, developed a bad taste habit of chasing tornadoes, and when he got excited, he would smash a punch at the root of the tornado's eye and directly smash a wind dragon. The old man coughed a few times, his expression was gloomy, and he said regretfully: "The girl you have had a crush on for many years, I'm afraid there will be no third chance to challenge the emperor, and the next hundred years are destined to be boring and boring." This time, in addition to my abstention, there are five deputy speakers who agree to expel the little girl's family from the parliament and reduce it to a lowly people in the same position as the orcs, this is not good, too blatant conspiracy, it is really not subtle, this we should really learn from human beings, we obviously have a stronger body, but we have forgotten the meaning of the existence of the mind, with a' Humanity has defeated us by its despicable reproduction rate's naïve excuse that we can't hide our weaknesses, Dante, wait for your beloved girl to be secretly buried, and you can go to the human territory to travel and help you in your future cultivation. ”

The student was puzzled: "This is not allowed by the temple. ”

The dwarf glared: "Idiot, your teacher is the Great Elder of the Temple, even I didn't see you funeral for little Elizabeth, whose eyes can see the truth and truth better than me?"

The descendants of the Titans grinned, unusually innocent, but their eyes were still full of sadness.

The slender old man reached out and touched the few sparse hairs that were not left, and said, "I hope you can reach the height of that Majia black sheep one day, and you don't bother to pay attention to any ridiculous conspiracy." ”

Dante, the half-giant, whispered remorse, "I am a coward, I have not been able to protect her, and I have not yet told her that I like her." ”

The dwarf turned around and sighed kindly: "I remember there is a proverb of human love, which the teacher gave you: those who speak of love, the love that can only be expressed in fiery words, are the tricks of the lame knight to deceive the ignorant noblewoman. Dante, you are neither a knight, nor is the girl a noblewoman who will be happy when she hears a few words of love, so put away your pointless regrets. Before you go to the human continent, the teacher gives you a little advice, when you can defeat the black sheep of Maga and break his black horn, you tell the old fellow loudly, 'Hurt my woman, kneel for me'. ”

The simple-minded Dante looked stunned.

The old man laughed and said, "I have forgotten what I just said. ”

Teachers and students were silent together.

Intentionally or unintentionally, the two avoided the poignant picture of the end of the war, the fireworks that even the two continents could enjoy.

It was the hundreds of ancestral spirits of Dante's beloved girl, dissatisfied with the cruelty of the Temple, and collectively chose to destroy.

The old man, the wisest conspirator in the wilderness, the dwarf Obei, stared wide-eyed and incredulous.

A rainbow almost spanned both continents, rushing towards the temple with a divine gesture that no living creature could resist.

Sigh.

Afraid.

Fear.

The members of the sacrificial temple, who had just lost the souls of all the ancestors of a certain race, rushed out of the main hall again, scrambling to watch the miracle.

The dwarf Obey was dumbfounded and said, "Human, the Holy Descend?!"

When the old man saw the face of the adjudicator, he sat down on the ground and muttered, "What kind of bastard used my God's left eye magic array to summon St. Urban, damn it!

St. Urban's descended on the Savage Continent, with a huge body, holy wings on the left and chaotic bats on the right, with a face that was half angel and half demon. This neutral non-deity, one of the seven arbiters of the seven deadly sins of the Bible, does not occupy a place in the pantheon on the top of Mount Olympia, but it has a sacredness that no one doubts, and it is recorded in the parchment fragments of ancient mythology that it was they who gave the scales of justice to one of the main gods, the goddess of fate, St. Urban, who appeared at the foot of the temple hill, and punished "arrogance" It comes from the lowest level of a mysterious abyssal plane, the Hells of Tartarus, where all the helldogs of the underworld are its loyal doormen, and only the hellhounds who devour fallen angels and low-level gods before their holy descent are loyal to the hellmasters of that plane.

St. Urban's golden eyes opened, calmly looking at the sacrificial temple with a vaguely familiar aura, which was overshadowed by a thick arrogance and anger, which it ignored, but arrogance was its food.

A human dressed in plain religious robes leaps from the top of St. Urban's head.

Augustine.

He held a Titan Dragon's Eye Staff in his right hand and a 624-page manuscript book in his left hand, The Teachings.

For the first time in his life, this young priest, who had just been called "the greatest heretic", "madman" and "self-gravedigger" by the three giants of the Byzantian Holy See, the Mayan Temple and the Golden Isle, stepped on the soil of the Muse Continent for the first time in his life. When the beloved and hopeful Saint Iyeta wrote the "Teachings" in his later years, his only leisure time was to sew the robes by himself for the most proud godson, and finally completed three pieces, Augustine appeared for the first time in the Cathedral of St. John John as a giant of the Blessed Sacraments, and the whitened robe was the second, and later, for fear of serious damage, he treasured and preserved it, and if he wore it again, it would really be scrapped. As for the first, it was shattered by the battle of Kepler's gallows, which became the fuse, the religious war that would not have become a hell on earth, and the cunning and timid Augustine stood by and watched the despicable act of picking up the bricks of faith until the red-gloved monk with a view-appreciative mindset was destroyed by the irascible werewolf king Berkeley, and then he began to go on a rampage, the only time the Night's Watch Butcher lost his mind and transformed from an extreme egoist with a strong personality to a reckless war maniac.

Augustine had seen the makeshift bloody altar, and he slowly crouched down, grabbed a handful of earthy yellow sand peculiar to the Plains of the Weeper, still slipping from his fingers, and silently said, "Dust to dust, dust to dust." All uncleanness dissipates before my eyes. ”

Augustine, whose eyes were emotionless, stood up, and the Teachings, which were second only to the original manuscript in terms of auction value and religious significance, were dismantled, and the six hundred and twenty-four pages spread out like a tide around him, and then disappeared in an instant.

It was not far from the evil altar that tried to strip the soul of one of the vanquished, fifteen hundred meters, but it was enough to pile up several hostile phalanxes. At this time, there are many enemies standing in front of Augustine's eyes, and there are many schadenfreude and many foreign powerhouses who have come to see the joke: the female warriors of the Amazons, who wield the "moon scythe" instead of the javelins of ordinary racial warriors, which means that they are the "strongest group of women in the world" Elven elven elders, whose iconic silver hair is the most obsessed and touted wig material of human noblewomen, and Minotaur chiefs whose sturdy bodies are painted with ancestral totems, are the strength of their ancestors, and their strength comes from the protection and grace of their ancestors. At the farthest reach, there were more than a dozen high-ranking shamans in charge of the dark rituals of the altar, and the closest enemies to Augustine were the servant class tasked with cleaning up the war—orcs who had no status, no voice, and no fixed home, dwarfs, and all sorts of hybrids that were not dominant in numbers and talents on this continent, not exceptionally powerful, but numerous.

Many dark species still seem to be afraid of St. Urban's behind Augustine, and dare not take the lead in starting the battle.

But don't forget that this guy in the church robe is the butcher in the position of the Inquisition. Augustine tugged at the Titan Dragon's Eye Staff, an epic staff made from the eyes of a sacred dragon, and the dragon's eyes opened a thin slit, and the light skyrocketed.

Thirty red orbs of light and twenty-one black orbs appeared around Augustine. The subtle difference in quantity is due to the inertia of this left-hander, a childhood private magic teacher said that left-handers are good for the continuation of life, for magicians, to live a few more years is to take a few more steps on the road of exploration of the principles of magic. Augustine has survived to this day because of his painstaking persistence in countless small details, tirelessly extracting all the obscure theories in the forbidden book that are conducive to his own growth, placing tens of thousands of dominoes just to exercise his mastery of slight strength, and chanting incantations that do not allow deviation even in his sleep. 51 red and black balls that gathered restless elements shot out, blasting the nearest twenty dark species to pieces, leaving some creatures that were just skulls blasted, savage goods with strong flesh but thin souls, Augustine was carefully calculated, because it came in handy immediately, and in front of him lined up a dozen neat gadgets, the essence of puppetry, the Gray Nest.

Starting with the Titan Dragon's Eye, more than a dozen red lines dragged the fresh puppet puppet, turning its head to kill its fellow clansmen.

Magic, whether orthodox white magic or taboo black magic, has one thing in common, it is a great test of the magician's thinking ability and the ability to transform divergent thinking into substantive control, in the law orange auction house, the old Carver's metaphor is very vivid, the magician is an alternative painter, he needs to draw a circle with his left hand and a square with his right hand, which is required to be carried out at the same time and completed at the same time. A little more difficult, that is, holding the oil bottle in the left hand and holding the water bottle in the right hand and leaning towards a water cup at the same time, so that the weight of oil and water is equal, and it is more obscure and difficult, the puppeteer's control of the gray nest is an extreme example, the gray nest is not just thrown out, it must be synchronized and resonated with the puppet's soul and body, in order to play the dark meaning of the gray nest, otherwise how can the puppet be independent from the magic main tree A thick branch?

Augustine's method of killing is very ornamental, and even more rare is very direct and efficient, but his progress does not stop, after blowing the body of a worthless half-orc puppet to pieces, he has already shown himself as a magician and puppeteer, he stretched out his left hand and chanted softly: "From Queen Dorothy, who holds the power of death and guards the tomb, although I have not chosen to surrender to you, please give me the source of breaking the spear of San Carlo." Please erect for me the "Helen Cemetery Notes", "The Prestige Rest", "The Ferryman's Movement" and "The Last Epitaph". ”

Four ornate Irish Tomes of the Dead condensed into solidity by spirits are suspended in the air.

With a secret prayer in the dark, the final chapter is ushered in: "Erect a tombstone for the souls of the dead who do not want to rest in peace." ”

The earth trembled.

Countless tombstones have broken through the ground and become burial grounds for living beings.

The most terrifying thing is that in addition to the Irish Book of the Dead, the madman who is no longer familiar with several professions can simply be "praised" with horror at the same time, with the sixty-first level of large-scale magic [Vulcan's Travels], and the high-level arcane [Gaze of the Goddess of Time] that makes people's actions sluggish and even more desperate The scene set up in front of this monster is purgatory: the tombstone of the Book of the Dead continues to rush out of the earth, knocking the species of the wild continent into the air, the strong man who luckily smashed the heavy tombstone, and also faces the scorching flame dragon wandering in the middle of the tombstone, this is obviously not the restlessness of the ordinary fire element, mixed with a large number of holy aura that is regarded by the dark species as the biggest invisible enemy. And the "Holy Grace" condensation in the Warlock realm brings a ruthless maximization of damage.

The real finale is what makes them collapse.

In this large dilapidated cemetery, there is a [totem pole] that only shamans are qualified to study and master—nicknamed "The Boat of Soul Extradition".

This human didn't even let go of his soul!

Is there an area where he won't?

He walked alone through the cemetery, where his body and soul had been destroyed.

Lonely, cold, and terrifying, face off against a second group of enemies: Amazon warriors, elven elders, naked minotaur chiefs, and the bigwigs of several hidden races.

Augustine, whose eyes take on a strange red color.

This coward from a large aristocratic family is selfish, a realist who is absolutely rational to the point of cruelty, and when he faces the knights of the Lion King Marquis Todd at Lauder Castle, he is ready to abandon Lady Quentin from the beginning, and in his mind, this Florentine kitten capable of solving physical desires is no more useful than a lich. This coward is also very cautious in his speculation, secretly seeking to maximize the profits, and let the female knight Hera return to the holy war, which is a hundred times more dangerous than the underground world of poetry, instead of letting her stay in the dark study to rub her shoulders, she is really very likely to die on the battlefield where the dead are every day. He never fraternizes, never smiles genuinely because his enemies are beautiful women, just like the chief secretary of state, who walked amicably through half of the Titan's empire, but that still can't change Augustine's original intention of nailing her to the tripod.

However, Augustine, who was typically pessimistic, also had moments when he was truly fearless.

I'm a poor bastard, and I'm about to have nothing, and you still have to ask for it, okay, then I'll take you to hell with me.

Augustine raised his hand and bit his middle finger, blood dripping onto the Titan Dragon's Eye staff.

In this short gap, a moon scythe soaked from countless poisonous corpses swirled by, piercing the last vein of the priest's robe of Diola, cutting off a piece of flesh on the shoulder, the venom quickly seeped into the nerves, the reason why the moon scythe was known as the scythe of death was not the sharpness of its blade, but the horror of the venom, lightly stained with a drop, even if it was an adult minotaur chieftain so favored by the goddess of life, the sturdy body would be paralyzed and unconscious, but the nerves and soul would be tormented, and finally taste hell before death。 But the human in the robe, without any expression, imprisoned a minotaur chief who rushed wildly and mistakenly thought that he could harvest human heads and take off the spoils of war, and imprisoned him only one meter away, and the powerful forward inertia of the burly body led the human priest back half a step, but this did not prevent him from using the staff in his hand as a spear, and stabbed upwards into the head of the minotaur who was nearly three meters tall, and did not forget to stir it and smash its brain, only the minotaur chief with the ancestral pattern on his body was constantly dimming, saw the bloody smile on the corner of his mouth, and heard his words full of mockery, but unfortunately he couldn't understand: "A naïve enemy is lovelier than an undetermined ally. ”

The heavy corpse of the dead was easily tossed away by the priest who had shown non-human talent in the mage realm.

Any idiot would know with his ass that this pervert must be a warrior, maybe a powerful human knight or swordsman.

But the question is, is this guy really human?

A young human with the slightest sense of reason would come to the temple to make a cemetery?

And at this time, the guy was pressing on the head of an elf elder with one hand, and burned her delicate silver-white moving long hair with his own hands, of course, except that the hair was too gentle, and the elf's body that was particularly favored by the creator was also turned into ashes, and in the flames, the wail of the elf struggling on the ground from the depths of his soul was so sad, this flame was more amazing than the [Vulcan Travel] mixed with the holy breath, it was the golden color of jumping. The young man in his robes stained with his own blood and that of his enemies just watched the last elven elder sink into an irredeemable quagmire, indifferent. Even the ranged superior elves are gone, and the Minotaur chieftains, who are born to fight in close combat, need no doubt about their fate. In the second hell, only two Amazon women remained, and a member of the shaman's "red branch" who had just inflicted the greatest scar on him, the Red Sorcerer, the artisan of the plague. Augustine, who had already infiltrated too much poisonous miasma, was matured by the Red Witch, and the badly damaged Augustine of the robe revealed a large area of decayed skin that had turned sickly red, according to common sense, the human body, unless it was the most mature Coffin Knight or the Sword Saint who had stepped into the final sanctuary, could resist the burning of the furnace, because this burning was the warming and consumption of life and soul, and the degree of pain was directly proportional to the strength of the body and the thickness of faith.

Augustine let out a breath that turned out to be a shocking scarlet.

Glancing at the altar where the intricate rituals were still being performed.

It's time to step up.

He turned his head to look at St. Urban, who had been silent.

The latter nodded lightly and floated towards the sacrificial temple made up of countless vicissitudes of life.

Climb slowly.

Augustine tugged at the corners of his mouth and looked at the already visibly timid Red Witch, "Flea, I'm going to break your hands and feet." ”

The cleric with the staff in hand sprinting wildly.

The two Amazonian warriors breathed a sigh of relief and formed a graceful semi-arc, ready to flank the plague craftsman.

But almost at the same time, two tombstones of the Irish undead were erected from their foothold, as well as several deadly red and black spheres, the balls of light exploded along with the tombstones, and the strong female warriors fled in panic, but the next doom followed, Augustine used the rich death aura on this battlefield to create two imperfect but powerful enough Poseidon spears, and with a wave of his hand, pierced the dark bodies of the two exhausted female warriors, and were pierced into the earth like cockroaches, the red witch cursed angrily in the savage dialect, ready to use the witchcraft drawings urgently drawn under his feet to transfer this battlefield that should only be left for the god of death to stay, and it succeededBut the human priest, who had predicted the general direction in a short contact battle, did not hesitate to erect a larger tombstone of Queen Dorothy in six directions, but this time it did not break through the ground, but landed from the sky, smashing the red witch, whose body was far less strong than his allies, into the pit, so merciful that the pain did not have time to enjoy.

The priest left the second battlefield, and on the way was confronted by an Amazonian "lady" who had been impaled into the ground, and the monk in an ancient robe stepped on the nipple of any member of her race, which had only one left since birth.

In the priest's field of vision, there were thirteen shamans summoned from the sacrificial temple by Duke Maga Black Sheep, who had never paid a blind eye to everything that had happened on the battlefield.

Beneath them, there is a huge pit, full of blood.

The two eighth-order golden subspecies that had hoped to become a dragon-like divine existence fell in it, and the powerful black mamba snake was split in half by an unknown blade.

The little boy died.

This mischievous creature used to be jealous, and whenever his master showed the slightest affection for a human monk, he would be furious and try to swallow the human as bait.

The Nile white python was left with only a huge head and was dying, but its silver eyes finally closed when it saw the human figure that it had never hated, and then even felt very close.

The little girl, too, died.

The priest's eyes grew colder.

The little boy and the little girl were hungry, and at most they were slightly injured, and she was sad.

And on the withered witch stone pillar, a petite girl was nailed into her body by a jet-black sheep's horn, and a scarlet blood flowed down her feet in a stone pillar groove.

The priest walked to the edge of the altar, and immediately countless shamanic spirits guarding the altar roared.

He turned a blind eye to this, but looked up at the sacrificial temple destroyed by St. Urban, and whispered the words of the frontispiece of Gospel 16: "You hide in the darkness and sing and laugh loudly at the light, but do not know that judgment has come." ”

The priest slammed his staff into the earth and said in a stiff and calm tone: "God says there will be light." ”

Between heaven and earth.

Radiance shines.

The six hundred and twenty-four pages of the Teachings, which radiate a brilliant white glow, form a perfect circle in the sky.

This holy circle descended upon the earth at a rapid pace.

The entire altar was blown over.

Everything that is unclean returns to dust.

The shamans who were about to complete their final rituals all lay in pools of blood, with stumps and severed limbs everywhere.

The priest who spat out a mouthful of fishy black blood continued to walk, without pulling out the staff of the Titan Dragon's Eye, he picked up a piece of the shaman's arm on his tiptoes, put it in his mouth and chewed it, tasted it, showed a smile, spit it out, and said softly: "It's really disgusting." ”

This action is clearly completely beyond the scope of human beings.

The priest suddenly picked up speed, drawing a trench in the same place where he had been a second before, two meters deep and half a meter wide.

It's a sword groove.

The little boy, the Black Mamba King Snake, must have been hacked to death by this sword.

The name of the owner of this sword must have been engraved on the Mughal sacred stone for countless years.

But so what?

Augustine simply rushed to the foot of the Withered Witch Pillar, pressed one hand on this Yin Pillar and chanted with difficulty, preventing the final stripped of the soul that dwelt in the body of Princess Pei Fen, the nectar of Plantagenet.

Her life had withered, she could no longer open those eyes full of spirituality, she could not squeeze out a playful smile, she could no longer cross her waist and let out a nervous princess laugh.

As the chanting progressed, black blood poured out of his mouth, and the priest's originally clean and new tattered robe became even more dirty and ugly.

A second sword groove appeared, cutting through the altar and heading straight for the priest and the sorcerer pillar in front of him.

The priest did not flinch, his robe was completely torn, and a blood groove appeared on his back that almost visible his spine.

On the stone pillar.

Queen Elizabeth on the Muse, the Lori butler who is only friends with Augustine, walks with him through rivers, mountains, churches, deserts, battlefields and lonely little princesses, and increasingly likes to read "Flowers and Blood" and buy crystal cream foundation instead of letting the rival tribes all struggle to death.

Two scarlet scars flowed from her closed eyes, and she didn't know if it was blood or tears.

A small and delicate princess crown fell from a low-hanging little hand, and the sound of the fall was crisp and loud.

This will cost dozens of Caesar's gold coins, and Augustine, who has always been stingy, has paid a lot of money.

It was only at this point that she finally let go.

She was so tired.

Although the tired little princess could not open her eyes to see the scene of the Holy Descent, she seemed to know that Augustine, the most timid and afraid of death, had finally arrived.

What a fool.

Augustine withstood the third sword groove with a blank face.

Reaching for the little crown, he stood up, pulled out the pitch-black horn that had turned his palm into a mass of charred flesh, hugged her gently, and placed the little crown on her head.

Rip off all the remaining robes from her upper body, wrap her, and tie her to her back.

Augustine, with his scarred upper body exposed.

The priest, who was bent over, was still half dressed in his robes, like a beast.

A sword-wielding man in human form stands at the apex of an Irish tombstone on the first battlefield.

What is the price to pay for asking St. Urban to come down to the sacrificial temple? It is the Divine Punishment Judge who has been summoned at the risk of his life that will soon return to the abyssal plane to which it belongs.

What is the price that Augustine has paid for coming to this point? It is the consumption of life at an infinite rate of normal passage, which is like widening the opening of an hourglass of life, which cannot withstand squandering.

But did Augustine regret it?

No.

No matter what world you are in, no matter what plane you are in, you must always abandon your calculations and truly protect some people and things that you have to care about.

In this plane where dragons and elves coexist, in this world where swords and magic shine together, this is the simple homage to whom Augustine never speaks.

In just half an hour, the priest, who was already lonely and did not want to be more lonely, carried the sleeping little princess on his back, squatting on a tombstone, and at his feet was the corpse of the sword master, which he had cut into countless pieces.

This battle will be revered by all heretics in the future as the "Robe of the Rampage of the Maidaiola!"

The word robe, which has become almost exclusively Augustine's, is bloodier and more ruthless than Kepler's gallows.

This holy descent, which was closed by the Savage Continent for ten years before it spread to the Epic Continent, in addition to the robes, there was also a more appropriate word given to the priest: the Great Emperor.

Augustine the Great.

But at this time, this butcher just smiled and watched as St. Urban's destruction of countless layers of sacrificial shrines finally turned into two pillars of light and pierced the sky.

But one of them returned to the earth and was poured over the clergy.

The priest sat at a vein point inserted into the staff of the Titan Dragon's Eye, and as the light bloomed, he ignored the swarming temple sacrifices, held Elizabeth curled up like a baby in his arms, bowed his head and kissed her forehead tenderly, and said, "I will not allow you to leave." ”