How long does it take to go from heaven to hell?

For Claremont, it was only a matter of a moment.

When he knelt on the ground and repented in front of so many people, and lifted the bewitching spell he had cast on those women, the beautiful vision he once promised to the villagers and the villagers' worship and belief in him were all gone.

Can you be forgiven for admitting a mistake?

The world is far less tender and childish.

When those women woke up, thinking that the good life they should have had and the future of living with their true love had been shattered, they realized for the first time that their husbands were not as handsome and majestic as they thought. For the first time, I recalled that I actually had parents. They were still waiting for me at home, maybe they washed their faces in tears all day long...

There were not a few people who collapsed on the spot and left crying.

When those men found out that their wives didn't love them at all, that they were not the lost people that the great sages said and that they were about to leave, they began to panic, but finally found that they couldn't stop them at all, and they were likely to be When accused of being a kidnapper, these simple villagers finally got out of anger.

When those children stood in the middle of the quarrelling and crying adults, they were at a loss, and then they saw the parents throwing stones at the old man, or even directly throwing fists at the old man, this once great old man, in these children The image in my mind collapsed.

"Do that, okay?"

Anthony looked at the miserable scene, who would have thought that these people might have gathered together for a winter festival ten minutes ago?

"This is the reality. It may be painful and cruel, but it is also true. Of course I can pretend that I didn't see anything and let these people continue to immerse themselves in this beautiful dream, but this is not true for those women. Relatives and friends are unfair, and it is also unfair to them, as I said before, Claremont, is not qualified to make choices for them!"

This is the principle, Donald will never make concessions, he will not allow Claremont to deceive these people, nor will he continue to expand his power in this way and cause more pain to the family.

It's just that Donald didn't sit back and watch these people beat Clermont to death. For these villagers, he may have no value, but for Donald, there are many things in this former great sage that he wants to go to. Searching for secrets.

Summoning a layer of energy shield outside Claremont, the villagers naturally understood what Donald meant. They did not dare to offend the outsider who could summon terrifying monsters, and could only turn their anger to other places.

Such as the church of the **** of harvest and hunting.

There was a sound of beating and smashing in the village all night, and Claremont just fell to his knees on the snow and said nothing.

After dawn, Donald took Claremont back to the church that carried his glory and desire to become a god.

The whole-hearted church that was cleaned at noon yesterday is now in ruins. The windows are smashed and everything inside is damaged. Even the stone bricks on the ground have a lot of cracks, and there are still several cracks. Signs of being hit with a hammer.

Claremont sat on the half-remaining pews at the front of the church hall, head bowed, and Donald sat beside him.

The delicate robe on his body has been stained with dust and grass and leaves, and the old man who used to be in good spirits now looks like a withered face, as if he may leave this world at any time.

"Hate?"

Donald looked at the stone sculpture in front of him with only his lower body left, and asked after a long silence.

"Hate what?"

Claremont's tone was a little vague, as if there was a mouthful of phlegm in his throat, unable to spit or swallow.

"You've been thinking about them all the time, haven't you? Over the past few years, you have led this village to prosperity. Although you deceived them, your achievements are indelible, and they treat you like this now. …”

"Actually, I hate you even more, I hate that you came here and ruined my wish... It should be said that it was a dream, and it also ruined their dreams. In fact, I also know that I can't become a god, my ability It's too weak, it's been in business for so long, and in the end it's just barely making some changes around this village."

It was impossible for Claremont to have no anger in his heart after being destroyed by others.

It's just that he has lost the faith of those outside, and now he is just an ordinary old man, and he has no power at all.

"What am I doing wrong? I just want these poor people to have a good life, I give them everything I can, and I just want to be the **** in their hearts, even if it's just these people, I Still very satisfied, you said that I was deceiving them, but those... those true gods! Which of the promises they made to believers has been fulfilled! Could they have done what I did? Why should I Treated like this!"

Claremont's fist smashed on the wood stubble next to him, and blood slowly flowed down the edge of the wood thorn from the broken fleshy opening.

Did he say it wrong?

Has the God of Justice fulfilled his vision of everlasting justice?

Has Mother Earth fulfilled her vision of eradicating hunger?

There are also the God of Storms, the God of Morning Light, the Goddess of the Silver Moon... Has the beautiful future they painted for believers come true?

Some would say they are still working on it.

But more people know that as long as human beings are still in this world, how can it be possible to realize the future that is full of falsehoods when they hear it.

Maybe it's really only in a dream?

"So what you did was wrong from the beginning. Think about those orthodox sects. Which **** have you seen spending all day with believers?"

Distance produces beauty. This sentence is not bad at all. The closer you are, the entanglements will arise. Once mutual interests are intertwined, the darkness of people's hearts will be far beyond imagination. Donald glanced at the thoughtful old man, and then said,

"Claremont, you've come too close to them, you cared for them like an old father, and became their total support. This approach will make you a great sage, but it will never allow you to have It is possible to become a god, because their respect for you is the respect of the younger generation to the elders or the worship of idols..."

"For the simplest example, I don't know if you have ever seen fishermen by the sea. Most of them believe in the Lord of Storms or the God of Water Elements. Those two represent the sea. Every time a large fleet goes out to sea, they must They make the most devout sacrifices, either with cattle and sheep, with grand balls, or with **** gladiatorial fights. After going out to sea, sometimes the harvest is quite good, and some people think that their sacrifices have been affirmed by the gods. After returning home, they must be full of joy and then express their devotion to the gods. What is this called? It is called God’s grace like the sea. Sometimes the storms and tsunamis they encounter when they go out to sea are worthless. You think they will blame these two. Gods? They only feel that they have done something wrong to provoke the wrath of the gods, and then they go to the gods with tenfold and hundredfold piety. What is this called?

In fact, the sea is there. It is not that the gods in the starry sky can't bestow or intimidate them, but if it is unnecessary, how can they be interested in paying attention to these ants?

"That's how it is..."

"Is that so?"

"So it is!"

The three words were exactly the same, but Claremont's expression changed from gloomy to puzzled, from doubt to firmness, and finally to a face full of sadness.

For a long time, I just said one sentence: "But I have no time..."

The words fell, and Claremont's figure became more and more stooped, and the wrinkles on his face became more and more profound.

"Tell me everything you know, how did you manage to control those energies? Don't tell me about talent...you don't have talent at all, and you were never a stranger, right?"

Looking back at the bright sky outside, Donald stopped circling with Claremont, and directly stated the real reason why he was willing to sit with the old man until now.

"You want to know...why should I tell you that I am the victim of that thing, and I have killed so many villagers. I give you this man who is far superior to me in both strength and wisdom. people?"

Claremont turned to look at Donald, with a hint of stubbornness and persistence in his eyes.

"I'm going to slaughter the villagers outside and ask you again? Do you want to bet on what I can't do?"

Donald didn't give Claremont any leeway, and then said,

"You should understand that it doesn't belong to you, it doesn't make sense for you to die with it, and I won't let you do it unless you destroy it now, if you can...don't Tell me you hid it somewhere else, so important, you shouldn't let it get too far away from you, right?"

In fact, Donald was aware of it in the forest. Claremont did not show any external skills in the control of energy, as if those energies were born to listen to his orders, which was absolutely normal.

"What do you want it to do, and you also want to be a god?"

"Becoming a god...if you think being a **** is so easy, so be it."

If it is said that one can become a **** by means of a certain item or a certain ritual~lightnovelpub.net~ How could there be only so few gods in the starry sky?

After all, Claremont was just a homeless man, and his understanding of gods was actually very shallow.

Maybe now he has regarded himself as a **** at some point, but in fact he is just a mortal with some magical powers.

Otherwise, how could even an Awakening-level alien be incomparable...

Donald's conversation with Claremont continued until noon that day.

The sunny weather disappeared again, but it was not snow, but a winter rain.

When Donald left the church, there was an old book in his hand, and there was still a little surprise on his face.

Behind him, Claremont was still sitting on the bench.

was silent.

His life passed with his dream.