The day of the festival finally came, and the freedmen flocked from the poppy trail to the poppy theater like a tidal wave. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

Before the celebration began, the Faceless Inquisitor executed several servants of the Raul family, who had been vassals of the Larsen family and had escaped the verdict by taking refuge in the Templars at the beginning of their arrest and having contributed to the defeat of the lord's guard.

But now, the angry acolytes could not find any trace of their enemies, so they took their anger out on the family that had once been associated with the lord.

This anger is useless against enemies hiding in the dark, who are eyeing each other and will suddenly open their mouths when and where they are. Of course, the hunters usually kill the beast at this moment.

Blood opened the day of the feast, and the freedmen chanted for it.

People were generous and gambled the proceeds of their toils to buy the victory of a gladiator - it was a naked, blood-and-power contest that carried the primal impulse of the audience's heart.

The defeated slaves died in the gladiatorial arena, while the victors were favored by the true gods and walked up to the altar of sacrifice, cut off their heads, and offered their blood to the god Osiris. His relatives will be given supreme glory, freed from slavery, and truly free.

As in previous years, St. John Fisher, along with sixteen priests, ascended the priesthood, his face hidden in the halo, his silver hair hanging down his waist, and his golden eyes gazing at the cheering world.

He chanted the rituals, his voice as clear as a child's, echoing through every corner of the poppy theater.

The people trembled as if bathed in holy light and baptized by the waters of a holy spring, and they bowed down to their ideal saints with a joyous voice stronger than the roar of the wind and thunder.

The chant fell, and the battle between flesh and blood officially began.

Two gladiators in armor stood in the center of the poppy theater, armed with giant axes, swords and shields, and pounced on each other like wild beasts.

The audience screamed!

The sword drove the wind and crossed the blade of the axe, splitting the wooden handle in two, while the sword-wielder was knocked out by a punch from a barbarian warrior wearing a horned helmet!

As the weapons intertwined, there was a sharper shout from the audience.

They were not shouting for the fierce battle on the field, but because-

A monk was placed in the middle of the audience on the ground floor!

Behind the monk was a man in rags and covered in hideous wounds. The assailant's face was gray, his flesh was sticking to his bones, and his eyes were sunken but they seemed to be burning.

If you look closely, you will see that this man is very familiar - he is the titular heir of Paliva, Carter Larson!

Carter held his sword against the monk's throat with one hand, and held up the "medullary worm" with the other, and the green mist swelled rapidly around him, and no one dared to step forward to stop him—ordinary people contaminated with these poisonous mists were equivalent to killing themselves.

The monk struggled desperately, raised his staff, and tried to chant the incantation.

However, after Carter's blade cut a layer of skin through his throat, he could no longer utter a word.

Protected by the green mist, Carter Larson approached the altar step by step from the bottom of the auditorium.

Frightened, believing that the descendants of the blasphemers were possessed by evil spirits, the people screamed and rushed to the theater exit. Fear is contagious like a tidal wave, and people are desperate to get out of the scene, but there are few exits. Some people rolled down from the audience several meters high in the pushing, and blood splattered on the spot.

The priests were furious, and after a brief chant, several bright fireballs coalesced on the staff, aiming at the attacker's head. But the flames were slow to come out, as the green fog obscured their vision, and they could not be sure that the poor monk would be killed by mistake.

Archmage Rose raised his staff "White Wind", and in an instant, a silver-white circle was projected around Carter Larsson, and the circular circle full of runes swirled rapidly, and the green mist was torn into a thin line and inhaled into the eye of the array.

All magical powers, within this high-level forbidden circle, cannot be cast. The mages and monks were unable to attack Odin, but gave the Templars the opportunity to raid.

The Templars rushed out from all around the priest's table, their sword light staggering, and the blade wind carrying heat, enclosing the center of the forbidden circle into a sword net!

The Forbidden Spell made Carter Larson feel like he was encased in lead water, sweating profusely and almost breathlessly, and his heart felt like a huge black hole had been torn open in the face of the besieging Templars.

At the center of the black hole is Odin's voice: "Abandon your faith." ”

The voice seemed to have a special appeal, pulling Carter's sanity into the abyss, with only a sea of blood in his eyes.

The son of sinners moved his elbow with difficulty but firmly, and the veins of his arm almost burst open under the force of the pull—and with the force of his arm, the blade of the sword cut off the monk's head like sawn wood!

The monk's body was still twitching, and blood was spurting from his severed neck like a fountain, splattering Carter Larson's face, making him look like a crimson monster.

Similarly, a column of red warm water was shot at the Templars who surrounded him. The senses of the acolytes were surrounded by a hot red and a strong fishy smell, and they were so stunned that they forgot about the attack!

The head landed right in the center of the altar and rolled twice back to the point of origin - this is where the head of the gladiator was supposed to be placed!

A brilliant golden light burst out from all around the altar, like the sun falling to the ground, and the entire poppy theater was enveloped in a blinding white light—the head of the monk brought the same miracle as in previous years!

The surface of Paliwa City seemed to have a heartbeat, and after a few regular beats, the blood on the surface disappeared as if it had seeped into the capillaries.

Some of the fleeing people saw this, stopped running, and knelt on the ground in prayer - every year on the day of the sacrifice, when the blood of the gladiators was spilled on the altar of the sacrifice, St. Osiris would bring light, cleanse the dirt, and drive out all darkness!

The Templars were also shocked by the sight, clenching the hilt of their swords, but unable to wield them in the blinding light.

When the light faded, they came to their senses and were ready to raise the blade in their hands again, ready to tear the wicked man to pieces, only to find that their limbs were like dragging a plumb sinker, unable to move.

When they looked back, they saw hundreds of ragged outcasts, holding their hands and feet, trembling and weeping, begging the Holy Spirit to shelter them from death at the hands of the devil!

The Templars impatiently kicked them away, only to find them as difficult to drive out as maggots - they nimbly dodged the blades of their swords, dodged their fists and kicks, and wrapped their hands and knees around them - it looked more like they were trained and deliberate!

The knights had to hesitate to wound or kill the homeless people in front of them, and in a matter of moments, their prey, Carter Larson, had already squeezed out of the encirclement and ran desperately!

Although he didn't understand why he had escaped in this mortal environment, his survival instinct overcame everything, and Carter ran madly outside the theater, with a strange thought in his mind: maybe the black-robed man who called himself Odin had helped him!

This was a crazy idea—because no one in Carter's mind could defeat the power of the Templars.

The thought was like opening a door to an abyss, and Odin's voice kept echoing in his ears: "Abandon your faith, and I will grant your wish." ”

His mind seemed to be surrounded by strange emotions - every nerve seemed to be scalded by hot water, beating violently, and he couldn't tell whether it was excitement or fear.

As Carter followed the crowd to the edge of the theater, he was surprisingly not pursued by the Templars, the Friars, or the Priests, and he stopped.

For he saw a man in a black robe, walking against the flow of people, step by step, towards the center of the poppy theater.

Around the black-robed man, there was no wind, no light, no sound, as if everything was still.

Carter's fear was infinitely magnified, and he realized that his innermost terrible thoughts would unfold before his eyes in an even more terrifying form.

A grand drama is about to begin.

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In the author's words, friends who watch it with their mobile phones can't see it. But that's very, how to put it...... In the chapter on fatalistic meaning, I willfully put my testimonial at the end, perhaps hoping that someone would resonate with me......

The story was conceived 10 years ago, and I still have a manuscript of the Colosseum scene, the kind of original manuscript that was written in pencil word by word, with a picture of the Colosseum and the Larson family crest.

Ten years ago, a 16-year-old lonely boy wrote and painted in the middle of the night to express the story in his heart.

Ten years later, a snotty 26-year-old uncle with a snot and a thermometer in his mouth typed out these words in front of the computer in the middle of the night.

This story, which has been held back for ten years, finally seems a little disorganized, not amazing, far from imagination, and everything seems to be back to square one.

And in the past ten years, life has been unbearable, going around and around, turning back to reincarnation, maybe it's fate, so I have made it my obsession to complete this story.

..................

Don't pay attention to the guy above who is crooked and pretending to be serious, that's not the author's hand, that's the author's left hand...... Although under normal circumstances, the left-handed gentleman is a little stronger than the right-handed gentleman, but one day, my right-handed gentleman will definitely counterattack!Definitely! Fast forward to the small climax, friends must read it! Recommend the collection of gods and horses to a little good cut~ and~ Remember to watch my boss's book "Heart Demon"! This is a masterpiece that is extremely awesome!