"You didn't save Colchis." A person, or rather an empty shadow, made a sound. In fact, Luo Jia was not sure if there was really such a sound source ahead. He stood on top of a wasteland. The earth cracked, and the sky was filled with shroud-like clouds. In the light cast by the black star, in the blink of an eye, now/past/in the hour of denial, there was indeed a tall and thin man, dressed in layers of broken yellow robes, with his hem fluttering in the night wind. Under his hood was a pale mask.

Instinctively, Luo Jia felt that this person was frighteningly familiar. Some subtle omen made his skin tremble and his hairs stood on end. To fend off his fears, he took a step forward instead.

"I don't know anything." He argued. "Everybody is lying to me, everybody. They all have their own purpose, the object of their own hatred. But what about me? I don't know what I'm supposed to do, and I don't know where I'm from. ”

The man stretched out his overly dry hand, but his movements were graceful and uncanny. In contrast, Uriana's contrived and seductive demeanor was a complete kind of emulation. His ragged yellow robe fluttered in the wind.

"It's up to you to decide." He said. "You've failed. There was no good, evil, and desire in the primordial chaos, but when you choose to become a man, you will bear the weight of the flesh—the burden that the gods fear, if they would fear. ”

"Shall I save or perish? Should I love or hate? No one taught me. I don't know anything, even if I fail? Luo Jia said angrily, her toes grinding against the cracked earth.

"Yes." He said, "You swore an oath. ”

Luo Jia frowned. "What oath?"

"But Colchis will stand as I made it to be: a peaceful and prosperous planet." The man in yellow said.

"I didn't say that." Luo Jia said.

"You will say, many will beg for this oath of yours. You will have to give each other words, beliefs, and even lives with the people of this planet. ”

"I have no feelings for this absurd world, all it gives me is mockery." Luo Jia said, remembering her mother's body on the sand dunes. He had to force his voice to harden and look directly at the uninvited guest.

"You will." The man in yellow said. The little primordial could feel that under the pale mask of the strange material, two eyes seemed to shoot at him substantially. "You can never really say no to someone else's wishes"

His tone was so flat that it made Luo Jia take a sharp step back. The original object's eyes were wide open, and his lips were dry from what he was about to say.

"You...... You ......"

Not because of what was said, but because of the voice, the voice—

It's a perfect reverberation of his own timbre.

Luo Jia woke up in a cold sweat, and there was a soft silk touch under him. He blinked in confusion. The heavy curtain lets in a faint light, illuminating the elegant seam ornamentation.

Fogrem would have been envious—that was the first thought that crossed Roga's mind. Phoenix will not give up any decoration that makes its room more decent, especially this hand-woven lace. The original body found subtle flaws in the seemingly perfect pattern, indicating that it was not made by a machine, but was woven with the painstaking efforts of craftsmen.

Vogrim could certainly have made a better work. But Luo Jia was born to know that for the so-called noble, the extent to which they can occupy the efforts of more humble people is the real standard of authority. In comparison, the level of refinement of the utensils is simply not worth mentioning.

By the glimmer of light, it was easy for the little protozoa to tell that the beautiful furnishings didn't belong to any of the rooms on the Twilight. Luo Jia understood that he was placed on a large soft bed, rather than being tied up and thrown into the dungeon, which meant that the owner of the room wanted to talk to him.

Since this is the case, Luo Jia is too lazy to bother with it. He turned on the chandelier switch. The light flowing from the crystals illuminates the tapestries and paintings, which are undoubtedly the work of the masters, and dispels the last traces of coldness brought back from dreams.

Then the little original body neatly rolled out of bed and pushed open the bathroom door. There is no bath he likes, but overall it is clean and elegant. He stepped into the large wooden barrel and filled it with a bucket full of hot water.

When he untied his new silk pajamas, he found that his body was smooth and well-proportioned, maintaining the healthy posture of an eight- or nine-year-old child. His violet eyes and golden skin were reflected on the surface of the water. He smiled, grabbed the bath beans from the silver plate next to him and threw them in, disturbing the shadow of his face.

So, when Cole Fallon opened the door, he saw a small protoplasm with dripping hair sitting at the table, holding a book in his hand, and eating a snack from a fruit bowl.

This was obviously more than he could have imagined. The man with the mantra struggled to squeeze out a smile. He was young, no more than twenty by a standard year. But Colchis's scorching sun had scorched his countenance, carving thin lines into the corners of his eyes. Probably the most impressive thing is the sparkling eyes, which show the strong will of the owner.

Cole Fallon took a deep breath, his hands clenched in his sleeves. Calm down, he said to himself. Take advantage of this opportunity, and this boy may be able to return to Walladesh and "reward" those who have expelled you from it.

The thought of Valadish fills the body of the Truthful Speaker. The source of this strength is pride and hatred. The city of gray flowers may have once had a faith, but now it has been overrun by heresy. May the souls of those bastards who have lost their conscience be torn apart by the beasts of the Most High Heaven!

Cole Fallon's hatred is not inexplicable. Nearly all religions face sectarian conflicts, even the Covenant Church. Although they all enshrine the four powers, Cole Fallon's claims are undoubtedly too radical. He asked the missionaries to go out of the walls and into the wilderness to seek revelation from the mighty.

If this only made the pampered priests frown, then their anger at the young man would not cross the line. But Cole Fallon, after gaining support from the radicals within the covenant, got carried away and made another point: he believed that the crux of covenant worship, which had been enshrined for thousands of years, had not been truly gifted, and that it was not religious. And it makes no sense to preach the mighty gospel and repeat it over and over again to the believers within the walls. They should go to the unbelievers to spread the faith and bring them back to salvation.

The results were not so surprising. Cole Fallon was expelled from Walladesh by the Covenant. They stripped the young acolyte of his robes and exposed him naked to the scorching desert sun.

They deserve to let him die. Every time Cole Fallon thinks of this scenario, he evaluates it so coldly. Exile did not wear down his will, but sharpened him. Running in the desert made the soles of his feet grow thick calluses, and his thin body grows muscles. What's more, he earned himself the name of a man of truth, and many willingly followed in his footsteps.

And let him get the boy. Those who have the truth think happily. The mighty prophecy led him to the ruined city and the child from the ashes. From the first sight of him, Cole Fallon knew he was destined to serve him. But just as a loyal hound can chew cooked meat thrown by his master, he doesn't mind feasting at Miko's feet.

And, unlike many rigid missionaries, Cole Fallon's greatest strength was his insight into human nature. He can easily see through the hearts of foolish men and fools, and stir up their enthusiasm to reap faith. He could tell that maybe the child had great strength, but it was too clean, like a blank sheet of paper that could be smeared at will.

If he could have drawn the pattern in the right way, he might have been rewarded even more. The thought of this made Cole Fallon's courage even stronger. He weighed his words for a moment and decided to start with a more modest one.

"Praise the mighty will that led me to you." He said.

The child moved and closed the book. Cole Fallon was sure he was outside the door, and even earlier, he was aware of his presence. He should have been outraged by this contempt, but the man with the truth simply lowered his head more humbly, waiting for the other to turn his gaze.

"Thank you to them for letting me find you, Cole Fallon." The golden-skinned child said in perfect Colchis.