The corners of Abram's robes, inlaid with variegated gemstones, swayed with his footsteps, refracting a dazzling brilliance that magnified the halo that enveloped the church.

He subconsciously held his breath, tried to temper his footsteps, and walked through the aisle between the two rows of benches to the front of the church.

There stood a huge cross, behind which sunlight poured in through the painted windows, illuminating the bricks of the youth's feet with every step.

It is a very large and magnificent church, with a vast circular dome that can be seen from the top of the ceiling, and the colorful and lifelike frescoes are painted everywhere.

Huge stone pillars support the main body of the house's structure, and the bones of different races are stacked and inlaid on it, but it only gives people a sense of holiness and solemnity, without any fear or gloomy atmosphere at all.

In front of the church, a white-robed figure suspended above a high platform, standing exactly at the center of the cross, gently looked at the crowd below, and fell on all the participants.

Everyone has the feeling of being watched, but they are not frightened by such a gaze, but as if they are shining by the sun, giving birth to relief and joy from the heart.

The figure of the man was almost completely illusory, except that around his neck, a ring of olive branches and thorns, with vivid colors and stable entities, was strung together with several brilliant sunflowers.

A small lark was perched on the man's shoulder, and the bird bowed its head deeply with its eyes closed, and seemed to be waiting respectfully for the sacraments to take place in the room, ready to hear the proclamation of the gods.

The different looks of the eyes fell on Abram's back, and there was a little dark jealousy in them, but they all used envy and admiration to hide the true thoughts of their hearts, and with as much piety as possible, they waited for the half of the Lord to perform the sacrament of the name of the person whose name was called.

In front of the cross, six angels with wings and halos on their heads lined up.

The angel on the far left has silver hair like a waterfall, and his low-hanging eyelashes cover his eyes that are also silver, and when he is not moving, he looks like a perfect sculpture, and his plain gray linen robe is unadorned, as simple as a blank piece of paper.

Behind him was a large wing, also silvery-white, and the aura above his head emitted a silver glow, like a snake's body with a swirling curve, forming a peculiar symbol.

The second angel seemed to be draped in flames, with raised sword eyebrows, and a fanatical but uninhibited smile on his face, sweeping all the people on the bench with a sharp gaze, and his blade-like flamboyance almost left scratches in the eyes of almost everyone who looked at him.

Medici was still wearing the pitch-black armor with blood-colored lines, and in his hand he was holding a broad sword with an outer sheath on the ground, and his whole person was a half-unsheathed blood sword, and the red wings behind him seemed to ignite flames at any moment, and at the edge of the halo above his head, an additional layer of faint blood light was condensed.

The angel in the middle stood one step more than the others, and Abram was all too familiar with him, from before to now.

Mistress Sasriel's countenance had not changed in any way, but his temperament had become more and more majestic, until now, he was untouchable.

That shadow hung over His eyes forever, and His countenance became obscure, never to be seen clearly.

His long black curls fell over his shoulders, his dark black gown was embroidered with silver thread and his richly colored accessories hung from his waist, which contained the same occult symbols that were frequently used in prayer services.

The slender black wings closed behind Sasriel, revealing layers of illusory wings, curtains around his body, echoing the dark aura above his head.

In the past, Abram was also a person who Abram was once very familiar with, at that time, although the other party was younger than him, he was already an extraordinary person who was becoming more and more powerful, and now the other party has received the gift of the Lord and has become an angel, which cannot help but make Abram's heart very emotional.

Osecus was reverent, his handsome countenance was no longer immature, but still full of vitality, with a gentle smile on his face, his white but narrower wings slightly open, and a faint halo enveloped him, including the halo above his head, which radiated a warmth as bright as the sun.

As for the middle-aged man with dark blue hair, Abram felt a little strange, his facial contours were very square, and although he had a very serious demeanor, his facial features were not deep in angularity. Although it is not quite the same as Medici's wildness, under the eyes of this middle-aged man, there is also a thunderous precipitation, which seems to be brewing an invisible storm.

Leodro also had a pair of wings behind him, although they were white, but they were covered with wave-like light streaks, and with his breath, there was a hidden undulation of the waves, and the circle of light on his head was surrounded by tiny lightning bolts, which looked like they were flashing from a distance.

Leodro knew that this was more because he was willing to take risks, participated in hidden plans, assisted some giants to cross the sea to the western continent, etc., but to this day, Leodro still did not have much real sense of how he could become an angel.

He needed more time to stabilize his spiritual state.

Standing at the very end was an old man in a hood, slightly hunched, with a long white beard hanging down to his chest, and a heavy leather-bound book in his hand, which was less conspicuous than the others.

The old man wore a diamond-shaped check on one half of his robe, the other half of which was plain gray, and on the long girdle around his waist hung an eye made of brass, the same pattern on the top of his hood, like an extra eye, attached to the top of his head.

The angels of the Lord offered their loyalty and faith to Him and finally received the gift of the Lord.

Abram thought so, and his feet stopped in front of Sasriel, who held in his left hand a golden vessel carved with twisted occult symbols, and inside it contained the prayers and sanctified fresh olive oil.

Abram fell to one knee in accordance with the ritual process, then raised his head upwards and named the cross on his face:

"The true light that shines on all living beings now falls on me, allowing me to be liberated."

Sasriel lit a splash of olive oil with his hand and rubbed it twice on Abram's forehead, leaving a cross reflecting the light:

"May sin be buried, uncleanness washed, and light be upon you to be reborn through the light."

Then Sasriel spread out his palms and stretched them out over Abram's head:

"By God's infinite mercy, under God's watchful eye, our dear brothers, you have been forgiven and will be blessed, may the grace of the Holy Spirit bless you.

"From now on, your surname will be Abraham."

Abram couldn't help but close his eyes and give aloud and fervent thanks to the Lord for His grace, his words with a weeping voice.

On such a solemn occasion, no one would have felt that Abram's reaction was inappropriate, or that someone else had gone through such a given surname from the Lord might have reacted more violently than Abram's.

It's just that there are some guys who participate in the ceremony, and they show some disrespect in secret, such as exchanging heads and ears in secret......

"Darzyborg, this surname is not accidental, is it?"

"Of course not."

The conversation between Darzyberg and Zoya took place only in between, and no one could hear it, and Darzyberg was now proficient in the authority he accommodated, and even deliberately separated some of them, adjusting his own convergence tendencies.

With Zoya's help, he was in a very good state of mind, including all the believers on the continent - the concept of "anchor" was no longer a secret to the angels in this church.

As for the wings, they weren't originally necessary, but after Dariberg's fantasy, he finalized the new images of several angels.

He didn't have it himself, but it made sense, Darriberg thought.

It's just that today's ritual process takes a lot of time, and Darriberg didn't want to come in person, he was busy dreaming and designing his own "Garden of Eden".

The Creator, who was keen on creating the kingdom of God, even told Sasriel directly that he could imagine a statue of a god to be placed in front of the church, and his eyes could fall directly here anyway, but he was sternly rejected by his own half-body.

Saslier repeatedly stressed that today was an important day and demanded that Dariberg be present today – "even if he hangs on it and does nothing".

And in this tug-of-war, Sasriel won with his unwavering persistence, in exchange for a full day of Dariberg's schedule.

The lark had heard the surname "Abraham" in another language, and Zoya's eyelids moved, resisting the urge to look down, still maintaining her statue-like posture: "So what's the next surname?" ”

"Jacob, I think it's good, it's a good fit for that old follower."

Zoya was silent for a few seconds, then asked tentatively, "So what about the next one?" ”

"It's Solomon." Darzyberg replied quickly.

"There seem to be a lot of people today, you ......"

"Zoroaster."

"Seriously, these surnames are familiar." When the lark said this, his tone was dry.

With a chuckle, Darriberg quickly passed it back: "Don't talk about this. Actually, it's not just the Garden of Eden, I also have a gift for you, I don't know if you will like it. ”

"I don't want your fanciful humanity."

"That was just an immature proposal, this gift may surprise you a little, I even repaired your old body during the experiment, you may be able to use it later."

Zoya was silent for a moment, and his overly strong precognitive intuition prompted him to say the following words:

"Actually, you're just a fantasy doppelganger here, and you're still busy doing things in the Garden of Eden, aren't you?"

Darzyberg suddenly fell completely silent, and he stared down quietly, as if he was completely focused on the ritual and had never been distracted.

There were twelve sacraments of this special kind, and today's ceremony is almost over.

Sasriel stood before the angels, and his proclamation echoed throughout the city, and soon across the continent.

This is the first year, the first month, the first day of the glorious year.

It is remembered for the day after tomorrow, and forgotten for the day after tomorrow.

I'm sorry for today's late.,Tomorrow is really going to ask for leave.,As a result, the expected full attendance to the end.,After all, there is still an omission.,Defeated dogs, defeated dogs.。 (wry smile)

I need a little time to self-regulate, and I appreciate everyone's support along the way, and I really appreciate that you would like to hear me share stories like this.

Tomorrow I won't send a single chapter to ask for leave to occupy space.,If the state can be pulled back a little.,Maybe the afternoon time point can be more chapter.。