Chapter 172: A Fork in the Road of History

Chapter 172 – A Fork in the Road of History
The figure was tall, looking even a little taller than Inquisitor Vanna, the figure was thin, as if what was wrapped underneath the long, dark, heavy trenchcoat was just a dried-up piece of flesh and blood, and he was carrying a large umbrella in this closed chamber, the depressed surface of which hid the uninvited guest’s face – and yet with just one glance, the old priest could see from the other’s torso to see the shadow of blasphemous distortion.

“Remnants of the Black Sun?” The old man looked at the figure in shock, and then roared out in anger, “How dare you step into this sacred library of books!”

In the next second, a loud bang broke the tranquility in the archive, the old priest had already drawn the large caliber revolver at his waist, the blessed bullets were wrapped in fire and roar, however, perhaps the old man’s limbs were too slow, before the gun went off the figure had already made a move – two shadows leaped out from the hem of his clothes, the first one The first shadow directly blocked the bullet in the air, while the other shadow instantly crossed a distance of ten meters and smacked the old priest on the shoulder.

An ear-piercing sound of metal friction came, and the old priest’s body directly flew out horizontally, crashing into a nearby bookshelf, and the huge bookshelf shook violently, with countless tomes and scrolls falling down.

The strange black shadow with the umbrella took a step towards the direction where the old priest landed, a low and chaotic murmuring sound came from its body, the sound sounded as if filthy flesh and blood were tossing in a boiling pot.

However, in the next second, a roar suddenly came from the collapsed pile of canonical scrolls, and immediately after that, the old priest’s figure leapt out from it – he had a sharp steel sword in his hand at some point, which emitted a sharp sound that cut through the air and swiftly slashed at the figure that had invaded the archive.

The intruder stopped abruptly, and the black umbrella slightly tilted to block this harsh blow, and a series of sparks erupted between the steel sword and the umbrella bone. Immediately after that, the old priest rolled over and landed on the ground, and the long sword turned in a circular arc without any pause, and then tilted to chop at the side of the intruder from the other direction!

As the longsword swung back and forth, gold and iron clashed, the old man’s mechanical limbs let out a low, hoarse roar, and his decades of honed Storm Sword Art once again came into play after many years of silence, the continuous swings and circular arcs of the chopping blows were like a continuous sea wave pouring over the blasphemous foe, and in the arcs drawn by the longsword, layers and layers of illusory waves could be seen forming continuously! –These illusory waves were becoming more and more tangible, more and more weighty, and finally gradually showed the impact and power of real waves!
The power of the Storm Goddess filled the continuous circular chop, and the heavy pressure of the waves was infused into the specially forged steel sword, each chop brought with it a fishy and salty sea breeze, causing the surrounding air and ground to tremble slightly.

The black umbrella in the hands of the intruder was exceptionally hard, and remained unshaken even after more than a dozen chopping blows, but the figure itself was constantly retreating, retreating a little bit to the edge of the nearby bookshelf amidst the successive iterations of the waves’ impacts, and a slightly annoyed low growl and murmur came out from within its body, filling it with a compelling power.

But the old priest had already closed off all unnecessary senses, completely ignoring the noise from the intruder – he knew that his attack must not stop, the Storm Sword Art needs this continuous pressure, like the waves can not be stopped in the middle, and these “remnants” split from the Sun’s children have the power not to be stopped, and the “remnants” split from the Sun’s children have the power not to be stopped. And these “remnants” from the Sun’s children had a power that could not be underestimated, once the pressure from his side was interrupted, the other side would be out of the fight in the next second.

At the same time, the old priest’s heart was filled with doubt – how did this blasphemous dregs infiltrate this archive? This church filled with the power of the goddess, countless organs and protection, from inside to outside a dozen layers of clear guards and dark sentries, even the Sun Heir himself would be blocked, how could he fail to detect the invasion of a “dregs”?

Could it be that …… this residue did not enter the church through the normal space-time structure?

At this moment, a sharp sound of air-breaking suddenly rang out, the old priest’s muscles instantly tensed, this experienced warrior reacted at once, the long sword in his hand did not stop, but slightly adjusted an angle, ready to meet the intruder’s sneak attack.

Sharp pain came from under his ribs.

The continuous sword light stopped, and the old priest stared in dismay at the tentacle that had penetrated his torso, watching the blood gradually fall from the edges of his ragged clothes, the brass prosthetic limb radiating scalding heat, and the severely worn and rusted gears emitting a final string of noise as they creaked to a halt.

Another second passed before the old priest realized what was happening – he was getting old.

He and these gears in him were old.

With a sickening sound, the ugly tentacles shrunk a little back into the intruder’s clothes, and this inhuman thing slowly approached the old man, who was using his long sword to support his body and struggling not to fall, and lowered the black umbrella in its hand, revealing a “head” that was constantly shrinking and distorting, as if it were a blooming flesh and blood flower, and hissed a hoarse voice out of the “stamen” of the “flower”. A hoarse voice came out from its “stamen”.

It was a barely recognizable universal language:
“Go and tell your god that this ugly era is over, and the sun will rise from history …….”

“History ……” The old priest’s body trembled, he hadn’t collapsed yet, but he was no longer able to raise his sword to the ground, and suddenly he reacted, “You have polluted history?!”

The intruder seemed to laugh, even though it was just a blooming flower of flesh and blood, a hint of a smile seemed to come out of its trembling “petals” and misshapen teeth, “On the day that the fire was lit, everyone’s wishes were fulfilled.”

The old priest slowly hung his head, and his vitality quickly faded from his aging body, as he seemed to have finally given up his struggles in this world, and began to calmly wait for his final moments to come.

The intruder seemed rather disinterested in the outcome, as it reared its umbrella and prepared to leave.

However, in the very next second, the roar of metal friction suddenly rang out, and the noise of gears turning and oil pumps pressurizing once again came from the mechanical prosthetic limb that had already come to a complete standstill, and the intruder turned back its head in shock, only to see a sword light swiftly attacking it. “Please witness!”

The old priest let out a roar, and the steel sword chopped at the intruder’s torso without any hesitation, this time without the black umbrella’s block, without the tentacle’s interference, the blade that poured all its strength into the enemy’s torso was almost like tearing through a rag and cutting right through it.

The intruder was split by the sword in dismay, and the two parts of his body fell to the ground.

However, in the next second, the two severed bodies suddenly emitted a disgusting sound of writhing flesh, and countless tiny flesh buds and tentacles spread out from their interiors, beginning to close in on each other and reunite.

The intruder remodeled itself little by little, and a low roar full of annoyance came out from its body.

The old priest, however, had already lowered the tip of his sword, and his body slowly fell to the ground, his cloudy eyes watched the intruder stand up again little by little, and a relieved smile appeared on his face.

He knew that his last strength could not possibly kill this monster, even if it was a remnant, this was a remnant of the sun’s children, far from being able to fight against it with a dying and senile guardian with a steel sword, but at least, he had proved his loyalty to the goddess on his deathbed.

The storm had been witnessed, and it was time to end it.

The intruder reared back, and in annoyance, a tentacle filled with contaminating power spread out from its body, the edges of the tentacle clustered with sharp teeth.

And in the sight of the old priest, he saw a fire burning behind the intruder, a fire burning in the archives, and the entire church blazing in flames.

The icon of the Goddess collapsed in the distance.

A Prydain completely destroyed by the flames was emerging in his vision, and a branch of history that said “the sun shard succeeded in descending, and the defenders of Prydain were all destroyed” appeared in his eyes.

The old man’s consciousness gradually sank in this contaminated branch of history, but suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something else.

A cluster of greenish fire was spreading in the fire field, along the gap between light and shadow, along the phantom in the rising flames, the greenish fire was splitting and flowing everywhere.

Behind a nearby collapsed bookshelf, a cluster of green flames seemed to have suddenly “smelled” something, and suddenly rushed over, like a hound that had found its prey, pouncing on the intruder who was preparing to deliver the final blow.

The old priest watched all of this in a state of confusion, his consciousness floating between reality and illusion, almost unable to tell whether what he saw was reality or hallucination. He saw the intruder suddenly wrapped in green flames, and his body, which contained the power of the sun’s heir, melted away like wax, and he heard the screams of the other party’s dying echoed throughout the entire Archives, filled with unbelievable insanity and horror.

Then all was quiet.

The sea of fire faded, the tainted history returned to the depths of the curtain for the time being, and the archive, situated between two branches of history, fell into dead silence, unvisited and unvisited.

Only an old man who had died in battle with his sword lay quietly on the ground, his eyes half-open and half-closed looking into the distance, one eye reflecting the peaceful and surviving Planders, and one eye reflecting the sun-destroying branch of history.

And he no longer belonged to either of them-he had neither died in that fire nor survived it.

Gradually cold blood flowed from beneath the old priest’s body, and as if controlled by a powerful will, the blood flowed silently on the ground, coalescing into a trail of footprints that slowly stretched toward the administrator’s console not far away ……

(End of chapter)



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