abnabooks Chapter 328 Ordinary Friends...
Chapter 328 Ordinary Friends...
Chapter 328 Ordinary Friends...
In the hotel where they were staying, Cyril's figure was quickly outlined in the center of the room.
Call ~
"The Light Storm that I just recorded yesterday is already used up today..."
"Why do I feel that every time I record an extraordinary ability with Father Utravsky, I soon encounter a battle and use up most of the ability I just recorded?"
"And the Fallen Mother Goddess," had she already begun to infiltrate power at this point?
"I thought we'd have to wait until after the war of the gods, when the gods' power to block the barrier weakened."
Composing himself, he lowered his head and whispered, "Adam."
The next second, a familiar, warm voice echoed in his heart: "I'm here."
He paused, then asked, "Were you watching just now? I encountered a follower of the 'Fallen Mother Goddess,' and one who had been granted power."
After a brief silence, Adam's voice echoed again: "I understand. Someone will investigate this matter."
"The closer we get to the end of the world, the stronger their power will be to penetrate through the barrier. Even if the seven gods use their divine kingdoms to seal those cracks, they cannot completely prevent their infiltration. It will just be much more troublesome and slower."
"At this time, the end of the world is very close, and many people around the world have already learned about and come into contact with them in various ways."
"However, given the limited power to infiltrate, most of those affected will hide themselves."
Cyril nodded knowingly, then asked curiously, "Don't you need my involvement in investigating this matter?"
"For you, advancing your rank is more important than tracking down those followers of evil gods."
Adam's voice echoed gently in his mind, and he seemed to see the other person smiling and shaking his head.
After a brief pause, Adam's voice continued: "Even if you don't seek out His followers, they will come to you."
"Why?" Sirion asked, his face showing undisguised surprise.
He remembered that there shouldn't be any conflict in authority or symbolism between the "higher-dimensional observer" and the "fallen mother goddess," the "fallen mother goddess."
It doesn't involve fate either.
Adam's voice stated calmly, "The Fallen Mother is the first mother of this universe, and the mother of all spiritual powers, but your spirituality is not included."
Cyril blinked. "So?"
Adam: "So He would want to regenerate you."
(—;)
To be reborn again?
Is it the kind of rebirth I'm thinking of?
How will it be delivered? Will you just roll it into a ball and force it into my belly, then have a C-section?
Cyril shook his head, clearing his mind of the images that were practically mind-polluting, and then asked, "So, my very existence has already caused the four Elders to harbor ill will towards me?"
Adam's voice rang out leisurely: "You could say that."
"On this matter, the higher-dimensional observer is on your side. He wouldn't want you to be reborn like the fallen mother goddess, nor would he want you to be corrected by fate."
'
,
Cyril raised his hand and rubbed his temples... completely uncomforted.
As the thought crossed his mind, Adam's voice suddenly rang out: "Do you want Medici to become a cataclysmic disaster?"
"Huh?" Cyril paused for a moment, then subconsciously shook his head. "I think it doesn't matter who becomes the 'Cataclysm' as long as they're not the 'Primordial Witch'."
"I see."
Adam's voice gradually faded into the distance until it disappeared.
After a moment of silence, Cyril reached out and tossed a golden Horn.
After completing a simple divination and confirming that Adam had left, he began to let his thoughts wander:
Why did He suddenly ask me this question?
My previous actions caused Him to misunderstand, or perhaps He has come up with a new plan?
But why did he ask for my opinion on his script?
The steam train station in Constance, the capital of Seashire County.
As the deep, resonant sound of the train whistle echoed in the distance, Havin and "Sirien" emerged from the station amidst the dense flow of people.
Havin glanced at "Sirien," who was silently carrying a black suitcase beside him, and asked with some concern, "What are you thinking about? You seem a bit distracted the whole way."
"Did something happen at sea?"
"Sirien" shook her head slightly: "No, I'm thinking about how many days we'll be staying in Intersea County, and how I'm going to deal with my father and mother's questioning during that time."
"..." Havin paused for a moment, then explained, "This isn't interrogation; they're just concerned about you."
Under "Sirien's" melancholy gaze, he sighed deeply: "Well, their concern is indeed a bit overwhelming."
"Fortunately, it's only for less than two weeks, we can just bear with it and it will pass."
"Don't even mention two weeks, I can't accept even two days," Sirion said, pursing his lips.
Looking at the station exit he was about to reach, he suddenly stopped and looked at Ha Wen beside him: "How about... we coordinate our stories beforehand?"
Ha Wen, who had always been a good student and a good son, paused for a moment, his expression conflicted, before nodding slightly and saying, "Okay."
On the deck of the White Agate in the Sunya Sea.
Klein, who was planning to get some fresh air, enjoy the sea breeze, and admire the scenery, was walking along the ship's side when he suddenly heard a somewhat familiar melody.
He followed the direction from which the melodious tune came to a large, shady spot on the back of the deck, where a number of people had already gathered, but most remained quiet, seemingly enjoying the melody in the wind.
He glanced around and soon spotted a familiar figure leaning against the ship's railing at the far end of the shadows on the deck.
Noticing his gaze, the person playing the harmonica stopped, looked at him, nodded slightly, and moved their lips a few times, gesturing to him, "Long time no see~"
After a two-second silence, he stepped closer.
"What are you doing here?"
Cyril tossed the harmonica he used to summon messengers into his hand and chuckled, "As a qualified recorder, of course I'll go wherever there's excitement, observe and record as much as possible to digest the potion."
Klein frowned, then asked, "What's wrong with this ship?"
Cyril shook his head slightly: "No problem, it's just that I think it will be quite lively around you."
My astrologer's intuition tells me that if I just follow you for a stroll on the sea, I'll quickly finish the rest of the Recorder's potion.
Klein twitched his lips, but remembering the persona he had cultivated for his current identity, he controlled his expression and replied calmly, "My 'fortune teller's' intuition tells me this is just an excuse you made up."
Cyril gave him a thumbs up.
"Congratulations, you got it right, but there's no reward."
97
'
""
This guy is definitely the biggest challenge on my journey of playing "Faceless Man". I need to find a way to get rid of him.
Moreover, Randolph Carter's identity as a "painter" is too famous at sea. It wouldn't be good if the authorities and the pirates he's messed with mistake me for one of his accomplices.
Composing himself, he casually asked, "Why didn't I see you when I boarded the ship?"
As soon as he said it, he realized he had asked a stupid question. The other party could teleport, so they had obviously smuggled themselves in.
To cover his embarrassment, he quickly changed the subject: "How did you manage to disguise yourself like that? I didn't even realize your face was fake at first glance?"
Cyril glanced at the other person and casually replied, "It was drawn on."
"Since you're already here, come listen to my music performance."
95
After saying that, he brought the harmonica back to his lips and began to play it without imbuing it with any spiritual energy.
As the melodious and passionate tune echoed, Klein finally remembered where the familiarity of the melody came from. It was from a shonen anime about ninjas that he had followed for a long time before he transmigrated.
As he pondered, his thoughts drifted away, immersing him in the memories brought back by the melody.
As he played his instrument, Sirion turned to look at the sea beyond the ship's side.
Blue waves rippled gently, and silvery flying fish occasionally leaped out of the water, soaring in the air as if chasing a melody drifting in the wind.
As he watched the "flying fish" leap from the sea, reflecting the silver light in the sunlight, Cyril's thoughts began to wander:
I remember that many people believed that these fish, which could "fly" and swim, were the offspring of the "Lord of Storms," which led fishermen to avoid catching them and they never ended up on the dinner table.
I wonder how it tastes. If I roast and eat it in front of people who believe in the "Lord of the Storm", will a few raging people randomly spawn?
Inside the underground office of St. Hillland Cathedral in Backlund.
Archbishop Horamik Hayden sat at the head of the table, flanked by the deacons and captains of the Mechanical Heart.
The most striking feature is Ikonser's hair, which stands up straight and has a hint of green.
He seemed to have been given hallucinogenic drugs; his body swayed violently and uncontrollably for a long time before he finally calmed down.
After he regained consciousness, Horamik Hayden, who was at the head of the table, looked around and said, "There are still a few questions. Who was involved in the conflict with the royal angels that day outside Queens, what was the reason, and what was the result?"
"Who among you will continue using 2-111?"
After he finished speaking, the Mechanical Heart deacons and captains present looked at each other, and no one responded for a moment.
After a moment of silence, Ikonser spoke in a deep, hoarse voice: "This matter involves several angels, and possibly even evil gods. Even with 2-111's abilities, it's not certain that we can see it clearly."
Archbishop Horamik sighed, "We'll take whatever information we can get."
"If we sort out the rest, perhaps God will give us some revelation."
After a brief silence, the captain of the Mechanical Heart squad sitting next to Ikonser spoke up: "I'll ask these questions."
1
As he spoke, he took the ancient silver mirror from the table in front of Ikonser and, under everyone's gaze, gently stroked the surface of the mirror three times.
After the misty water appeared, he took several deep breaths to prepare himself before asking, "Your Excellency Arodes, my question is: who, or who, were the people who clashed with the royal angels that day?"
The water shimmered on the surface of the silver mirror for a while before a dim and blurry image finally emerged:
It was a silver figure with an indistinct face. It reached out and made a gesture in the air, instantly splitting the image into two parts.
Above was a similarly blurry silver figure, and opposite him stood three equally hazy figures: one gray-white, one crimson, and one dark blue. They seemed to be confronting each other.
On the mirror below, a blurry silver figure confronts a shimmering, starlight-filled figure.
The image flashed briefly before being filled with all sorts of colors that resembled light pollution.
"This is... a group of angels confronting each other in Backlund, and even fighting over it?"
"Those two blurry silver figures should represent royal angels, and the division of the scene into two parts represents a divided battlefield? But those two battlefields don't look balanced at all."
"The balance may have been distorted by some force, or it may simply be a perfectly reasonable balance..."
'
Nearly half a minute passed before the surface of the silver mirror returned to its dark state, but this darkness inexplicably gave people a feeling of weakness.
After a ripple, enlarged, bolded words in ancient Fusak, dripping with blood and still burning with crimson flames, appeared on the mirror's surface: "Will you choose punishment directly, or answer my question first?"
The captain of the Mechanical Heart team who had just asked the question swallowed hard. He inexplicably sensed the anger emanating from the "magic mirror" in front of him from the words on the mirror.
It seems that 2-111 is now determined to strike him with lightning, and it will definitely be a more powerful lightning bolt than the one used by Deacon Ikonser.
He paused for a moment, then hesitated before saying, "I choose to answer the question."
Another ripple spread across the water, and in less than a second, the complete sentence appeared on the mirror: "Very good, my question is:
Do you enjoy the feeling of giving your all to someone, all your energy and money, only to have them repeatedly accept your gifts and then reject them, yet you remain undeterred, persistent, and continue to be their most loyal suitor?
Seeing the problem reflected in the mirror and feeling the gazes directed at him from all around, his body suddenly froze, and he felt a faint sense of impending death, as if he wanted to find a crack in the ground to crawl into.
After a long silence and hesitation, he gritted his teeth and said, "I don't like that feeling. I just like her, so I chose to accept it."
"Correct answer, you can move on to the next question."
He looked up pleadingly, but those on either side of the conference table quickly looked away, pretending not to see him.
,
After a moment of silence, he looked back at the "magic mirror" in front of him and asked his second question: "Honorable Arodes, my second question is about the reason for the conflict between the angels in the scene just now."
On the surface of the silver mirror, ripples spread out again, and after a while, a blurry image appeared:
It was a carriage covered with glass and shards of mirror. A crimson figure, burning like a flame, sat in the center of the mirror, with tiny, flame-like points of light constantly gathering around it.
The camera then zooms in, magnifying the tiny, flame-like points of light until the image fades into darkness.