The king slowly opened his eyes, and there was still evocative blood between his teeth and lips, which was a gift from the elven princess, and the only place left in her body worthy of his nostalgia. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ

"Where is this?"

Disorganized thoughts and dizziness interfered with his perception, so much so that it took a long time for him to notice the difference in his surroundings.

In the empty hall that seemed familiar to him, there was a corpse that had been cut in half, and not far from the corpse, a young man with black hair and black eyes stood up.

Wait, standing?

There are still people who dare to stand in front of "Yale Shag", doesn't this little guy know what fear is?

The "tyrant" looked at the young man with interest, and he found that he was not as angry as he had imagined, but a little more curious.

"Hopefully he'll give me enough fun. ”

Thinking like this, he couldn't help but feel a little interested in teasing the other party.

"To be honest, I don't really like the way you look at me right now. Mephistopheles' cold voice echoed through the main hall, "If you don't want them to leave your eye sockets, I advise you to learn to be in awe." ”

"Hah, awe?"

Mephistopheles's words gave the king a sense of unreal absurdity, but what followed was boundless anger, and he actually wanted the "tyrant" to be in awe of him, he really didn't know whether to live or die!

"Maybe ......"

Before Yale Shag could finish his sentence, he was interrupted, and an irresistible invisible force surrounded him, lifting him off his throne and slamming him against the wall behind him.

"Bump—"

The inner wall carved with the reliefs cracked in large areas under the impact, and the haughty god-like king fell to the ground, his forehead slamming against the armrest of the throne.

Blood poured out of his mouth and nose as if he didn't want money, making his already badly wounded body even weaker.

"Sober?"

Mephistopheles' voice rang in Yale Shag's ears, and he wanted to respond, but the corners of his mouth kept opening and closing couldn't make a sound.

"You're not a 'tyrant' from a lifetime ago, you're a puppet of the Temple, and the experience I gave you about Yale Shag was to build up your self-confidence, not make you more stupid!"

"Think about it, I'll see how you perform. ”

Mephistopheles' figure dissipated into black smoke before George XIII's eyes, and the palace, which he had isolated from space, resumed its communication with the outside world......

The Devil walks down the bustling shopping street, his mind comparing the changes in behavior before and after George XIII's sleep.

"It stands to reason that he shouldn't have changed so much. ”

Mephistopheles whispered an analysis, frowning slightly.

The people in front of him would subconsciously avoid him before his steps arrived, even if this kind of self-talk behavior was strange, but the passers-by did not pay even a glance to him, as if the young man walking beside him did not exist at all.

George XIII had in his heart the desires of kings, and these desires were nothing more than a little pleasure for Yale Shag.

Therefore, Mephistopheles easily grasped the loophole in George XIII's psyche and gave him a dream that seemed real and false.

This method was the inspiration of the devil when he was "jealous" in his fight with the psychic mage, and he did not know how effective it would actually be.

"A person's subconscious behavior and habits will not change, but George, who woke up from the illusion, changed most of his habits and became a different person entirely. ”

"Why did this happen?" The succession of doubts and speculations caused Mephistopheles a lot of distress: "Is it because I have mastered the skin of 'will to interfere with reality'?" Or is there something unexpected happening in the middle of this?"

"Let's take a look first, anyway, after passing through the illusion, his soul has been held in the palm of my hand, and he can't turn up any waves. ”

Mephistopheles was fond of change, and although it would have caused a lot of trouble to his original plan, the devil, who was far inferior to the gods, preferred the unknown to the plan that could be changed at any time.

"Since George XIII has left it alone, the candidates who disturb the situation in the imperial capital will have to be reformulated. ”

The devil who had made the decision quickened his pace, the instinctive instinct of his body reminding him of the fragrant souls that awaited his picking.

......

To the west of the Karghali Line is the Vowvarich steppe, the habitat of the orcs and a source of evil for war.

Rykfont had lived here for hundreds of years, so much so that most of the time, he would have subconsciously thought of himself as an orc, and if it weren't for the tiresome guy who constantly reminded him, he would have been fully integrated into the life of an orc and ushered in a new life.

That's right, Rykfenger is not an orc, and despite his fangs and green skin, he is not a member of the orc race from the origin of his race.

"Feeling emotional?"

The annoying voice sounded behind Rykfonta, giving him the urge to get up and leave.

"What does it have to do with you!"

Rekfonter's tone was rather impatient, as if the purpose of speaking was not to answer the other party's questions, but to provoke a fight.

After all, he still didn't choose to leave, because he didn't want any messages in the tribe that "Rykfenger is afraid of Reinhardt".

"Of course it does," Reinhardt replied in a serious manner, "I don't want my friend to be a sissy who only caress about her life." ”

The guy, who claimed to be a friend of Ryke Fonter, sat down next to his friend, and his mouth couldn't stop encouraging: "Cheer up, the bitter life is only temporary." ”

"You go and sit over there," Rykfont said disgustedly, "You can't sit on such a big prairie, so you have to huddle with me?"

"Squeeze warm. ”

"You, a warrior who has comprehended the element of fire, will be afraid of the cold?"

"Chilling. ”

“......”

Rykfenger didn't want to talk to this out-of-tune guy anymore, and he would rather the other party go back and spread the rumor that "Rykfenger is a coward" than huddle with a man to see the scenery.

"Don't you ask me, why is it cold?"

Reinhardt asked as he got up and left, and his handsome face was full of triumph after victory.

That's right, Reinhardt wasn't an orc, but a handsome-looking half-elf.

Recvogue ignored the other party's meaning and secretly accelerated his pace, but for Reinhardt, who had also advanced to the gold rank, it was not difficult to keep up with him.