Chapter 126 125.That's not what the book says!

Lloyd adjusted his breathing, calmed his heartbeat as much as he could, and waited patiently for the pattern on the canvas to take shape.

The special pigment, which is as bright as blood, slowly spreads along the wisps of nerve bundles, and it looks like a pair of blood vessels and nerve bundles are gradually taking shape.

If you keep your eyes on it, you can even feel a slight pulsation and trembling, as if you want to come to life.

Lloyd waited patiently for five minutes, and according to the presiding judge's experience, the red on the canvas should have been fixed by this time.

But in the picture in front of Lloyd's eyes, the paint was still flowing and changing.

"Is it because the materials I use are of better quality?"

He rubbed his chin and analyzed it, and then waited patiently for another two minutes.

However, the pattern on the canvas is still changing, and it is still not finalized.

Lloyd hurriedly lay down and looked carefully.

In fact, the special red pigment has already solidified, and it has completely penetrated into the canvas, and a pattern has been drawn on its own based on the nerve endings.

It's just that this pattern itself is constantly surging and changing, refusing to stop, like a heart that is not willing to be lonely.

"Damn, that's not what the book says? Someone else's ritual is a .jpg, f? ”

Lloyd couldn't help but curse, and quickly reached out and touched the paint.

"Don't me at the critical moment? What about when you're a meme? ”

This kind of complaint is naturally meaningless, the pattern is still changing, and it is not the same.

It's not a '.gif', it's a '.avi'......

If this continues, Lloyd will not even look for opportunities to make mistakes, let alone [veto] the mistakes.

Half a month's salary, is it going to be wasted like this?

Lloyd gradually began to feel impetuous, and had to shake his head vigorously, admonishing himself in his heart.

Calm down! Be sure to calm down! I've always been a calm and cautious young man!

Think of a way! Take a look at these skills of mine......

Lloyd hurriedly called the panel out.

Efficient learning? Useless......

Divination? Useless......

Transcendent swordsmanship? Don't dare to use ......

Gifted distortion? It's not time yet......

A Twisted Realm?

Lloyd froze, opened the [Distorted Realm], and covered the canvas in front of him.

He wasn't really sure what the effect would be, so he had to try it first.

As a result, as soon as the skill was opened, the patterns on the canvas changed more cheerfully, and the lines even began to dance, looking triumphant, like a fish in water.

Lloyd wanted to close the [Twisted Realm], but suddenly found that the "Book of Truth" in the depths of his memory had actually changed slightly.

It stopped spinning, became quiet, and flipped on its own.

After turning a few pages, it stopped.

Lloyd felt his vision blur as the pattern on the canvas in front of him blurred.

He blinked, and the pattern on the canvas suddenly changed from a meaningless jumble of lines to a stick figure with a definite meaning, similar to the ancient murals carved into the rock wall, rubbed on the canvas.

Lloyd had no time to think about why it was the way it was, and could only stare intently at the 'mural', trying to understand its meaning.

There is a tall stickman in this picture, taller than the mountains around him, and the clouds in the sky have already touched the sky overhead.

He was alone, wandering aimlessly across the land, walking slowly, with steady steps, crossing mountains and rivers.

Eventually, He came to a seashore.

Even the depth of the sea was only below His knees, and He continued to move on, towards the depths of the ocean.

Then, suddenly, he looked down and found that the original blue ocean had unconsciously turned a blood-red.

He felt a slight pain in his feet, as if he was being bitten by a leech.

His gaze looked through the red sea to his legs.

It was already crawling with tentacles of all sizes, like leeches, frantically gnawing at his flesh.

The spilled blood stained the ocean red.

The giant stickman watched quietly for a moment, then said nothing and continued aimlessly.

This little bit of flesh and blood and pain was nothing to Him.

He went deeper and deeper, and the water gradually spread from his calves to his loins.

The pain in my leg that I can't feel anymore seems to have gotten used to it.

He was also a little tired, so he stopped and rested a little.

Then the blood-colored ocean began to boil and tumble, tentacles burrowing out of the sea, writhing wildly at Him, and roaring in small pieces.

It's like worship, it's like singing an ode.

The giant stickman seems to be enjoying the atmosphere and no longer has the desire to move on.

He hung his head slightly, and stood there, slowly falling into a deep sleep surrounded by a group of tentacles.

He didn't seem to realize that his legs beneath the surface of the sea were only bare bones, and countless tentacles were still clinging to them, gnawing and sucking.

Maybe one day He will suddenly wake up and move on.

Maybe one day he will suddenly fall and sink into the depths of the sea.

The picture in front of Lloyd's eyes came to an abrupt end, and there was no follow-up plot.

The patterns on the canvas are cluttered and meaningless again.

Then, he felt a feeling of suffocation and a headache rushing over his face, and his back was soaked in cold sweat before he knew it.

He hurriedly slumped onto the sofa behind him, gasping for air.

"Uh...... Call...... Whew......"

He was tempted to take a break from it, like the giant stickman.

But a strange intuition reminded him:

Now is the time!

Lloyd remembered that the presiding judge specifically mentioned "intuition" in his notes:

"Trust your inspiration, trust your instincts, and...... Believe in yourself. ”

Lloyd quickly cheered up, scattered his inspiration, locked the canvas under his feet, and then mobilized his spiritual power, preparing to launch the [Veto Declaration]

"The ...... of veto"

He was just halfway through the prayer when he suddenly realized that something was wrong, and quickly changed his words:

"In my name, the gift is twisted upon you!"

[Gift Twist], activate!

In an instant, the chaotic lines on the canvas began to fade, and the vivid reds gradually turned yellow, blackened, and then blurred little by little, gradually dissipating.

The original white and new canvas also showed weathered cracks.

This whole painting seems to have undergone a long baptism, and it will fall apart at the slightest touch.

But even if Lloyd didn't touch it, it eventually collapsed completely, turning into a cloud of dust.

(End of chapter)