At the junction of the barren grass and the Great Gobi. The yellow-green light that mingled www.biquge.info the Pavilion faintly reflected the hundreds of Necromantic Knights nearby.

They stood together in disarray, howling and venting in confusion, praying for something to redeem the soul that was left with only resentment.

Kerr clutched his ears in pain, trying to ease the sounds that seemed to sink straight into his heart, or the abstract fears. For a child who is still an intermediate mage, the awakening and manipulation of thousands of undead are still really unbearable.

Loud sounds, and cries mixed in with it. Endless sorrow and remorse poured into the distracted teenager like a tidal wave.

The backlash of magic that is beyond his ability to harness quietly came at this moment.

Kerr slowly crouched down and lay himself flat on the ground, hoping to soften the impact that followed.

Memories are pouring in, pulling the teenager into another world.

But Kerr was not in a hurry, he had been waiting for this moment, for a long time.

......

The junction of the barren grass and the hills, the location of the refuge.

The eight-meter-tall double-headed priest led his people here.

Humans, creatures he despises the most.

Ever since the beginning of the Divine Wars. Their will to fight is like a building block that can be crushed at the touch of a button, and they will only flee in the face of danger.

Ogres appreciate warriors who dare to challenge themselves in the face of death, while cowards can only be used as food.

And now they will become reserve food.

A sensitive nose that is completely out of step with the sheer size of the body can easily sniff out where humans are hiding.

But now, these little things did cause some minor problems for him.

The Two-Headed Priest walked away from the sandy hills with his nose covered and his face in pain, a method even worse than that of goblins who could only live underground.

The foul-smelling circle that covered a whole slope was not those strange scrolls that stimulated nerves through hallucinations, but it really produced an unpleasant stench, and it would be solidified in place by the circle, making the smell even more stinky.

It destroys the predator's proud sense of smell in an instant. It is also a necessary measure to deal with those powerful monsters that inadvertently wander here.

However, these ogres are different from those demon beasts that have no intelligence.

Most importantly, they have a purpose.

And the old mage who was in charge of the overall situation had no illusion that he could use these little tricks to hide from the world.

"What a pathetic! Do they wish to escape their doomed fate in this way? Disappointed me. ”

The two-headed sacrifice didn't even command anything, and dozens of ogres instantly swarmed up, unjustified brute force and blind fights in one go. In an instant, everything around them was destroyed into ruins.

All demonic spirit techniques that belong to the magic circle system, referred to as magic, must have "points" that can be supported, or plural arrays as the basis for operation. Therefore, almost all the magic circles that can be put on the table have a unique set of self-defense mechanisms.

However, this circle apparently has no power other than farting. In an instant, the magic patterns that lay on the sand were completely destroyed. As for the taste, it seems that it will take a long time to dissipate. Before they disperse, it looks like the apex predators who once dominated the grasslands will have to wait a while.

......

Gray, is a mixture of white and black. It's like falling into a kaleidoscope of monotonous colors.

In the blink of an eye, it seemed to be back to the despair that was deeply rooted in my heart.

...... Blood-red earth, black sky, damp caverns that faintly reveal a little light.

The shouts of the people, the roars of the beasts, the thud of the falling boulders.

Different colors and sounds are intertwined, like a black march, blowing the screams of despair and the sound of gloom.

The dim world, just like that day.

The expressionless child sat alone between the two corpses, crying silently. Like a patient with a confused mind, he can't find what emotions to use to express his emotions.

It's more like a wreckage than a corpse.

A woman's broken left body, and an arm that could only be seen as a man's left hand, scattered around Kerr like a broken doll in the hands of a bear child.

In that flash of time, a familiar and bloated black shadow made the silent Kerr twitch as if he had been struck by electricity.

A juvenile sandworm. The hard sand and stone shattered like tofu under the exaggerated palate. Only the shivering teenager was left behind.

That was the beginning of a life in which Kelle became different.

A nameless karmic fire quietly rises.

...... He should have forgotten about it a long time ago.

Endless tears rolled down his cheeks.

...... He should have stopped caring.

His trembling body stumbled to his feet in the blood.

...... He shouldn't have been scared anymore.

He thought he was well prepared for this moment, to come and say goodbye to his past. However, he found that he was still the same child who knew nothing and achieved nothing.

Why?

He had courage.

Why, the trembling footsteps are going backwards?

He has the quality.

Why, does he still feel so small?

He was determined.

Why, the panic feels like a flight?

He thinks he's letting go of the superfluous emotions he thinks are nightmares, the culprits. But he forgot his fears. He thinks it gives him strength. However, it doesn't seem to think so.

He found out that he had been deceiving himself all along.

From the opening of this farce to the present, the child who has never made a sound finally let out a sigh.

"I came here on purpose. In order to prove to myself that I will never be afraid of the past again. "It's just that an eight- or nine-year-old boy looks like hemiac, just like that,...... Just like that, he used the boulder beside him expressionlessly to break his trembling hands.

It's just a vision, but the pain is so real. The real made him stop his legs, which seemed to be out of control.

"But the facts tell me I was wrong. A broken blood-stained blade appeared out of thin air, and under the beads of sweat the size of beans, there were resolute eyes. The blade swings down without stopping. What is terrifying is that the severed legs still continue to tremble and retreat as if they have not changed. The distraction of pain finally led to mental confusion.

"When I thought so, I had already lost to you. It was a pale face caused by excessive blood loss, and the trembling dark purple lips showed that life was moving away from him.

"But, this time, I can't be wrong again. ”

Young students murmured.

At this moment, the living dead wandering in the Gobi finally had a slight change in the anxious eyes of everyone.

Their hissing seemed to take on a slight melody, as if they were singing, chanting the unknown ballad.

"I was guilty, so I repented.

Guilty, called cowardice.

Guilty, called fear.

Guilty, called delusional.

To stand still in fate is for cowardice. In the bloody desire for salvation, it is for fear. To fantasize about hope in a desperate situation is to be delusional.

I pray in a broad sense, to this all-encompassing nature.

I am willing to give, all my superfluous emotions. to pay for all my sins. ”

Above the dark sky, a meteor streaked by. It's like a pair of compassionate eyes, watching everything in this world.