To Nemo's surprise, Oliver took the lead this time. Instead of attacking, he reached out and twisted a leaf in the decorative pot on the side of the stone steps. As the white light infuses the leaves, the veins of the leaves flash with a faint silver light. Oliver let go of his hand, and the blades automatically drifted toward the dislocated weird forest without wind.

"..." Oliver's expression became stiff, "I started to wonder if the phrase 'can't find you' has any other meaning." He took another leaf and threw it to the same position — But this time the leaves went further afield.

"The attack pattern of this thing is constantly changing." Nemo said, tearing off a piece. Unlike Oliver's case, the leaves died directly in his hands. But the dead leaf was unexpectedly lucky - it jumped up and down around the space in front of them, jumped up and down, and circled the field, and when it returned to its original place, it didn't even break the edge.

"Uh...but its attack seems to only target surface magic." Nemo added dryly, stepping off the stone steps first.

This nightmare leopard is already on the verge of death, let alone a human body, its body power is under itself. Nemo didn't think it could do him any real harm. Right now, the owner of this dream is already unconscious, and the out of control abyss magic is surging frantically, instinctively guarding the Nightmare Leopard's consciousness. And those violent forces hit him, but only brought a soft touch like warm water flowing through the fingers.

Nemo stretched out his right hand, pressed it in the air, and immediately countless runes unfolded in front of the two of them, flickering and beating from time to time.

"Here is the identification of the abyss." After sweeping away the runes, Nemo exhaled slowly. "There's also cognitive distraction attached."

"In other words, I have to find a way to get in." Oliver wiped his face and fooled the pile of corpses at the door. Considering the identity of the visitor is uncertain, it is reasonable to put some water of. But in front of it is the place where the Abyss Church is guarded, and the defense can't be that simple. "What is cognitive interference?"

"It's hard to explain, but you'll see for yourself later." Nemo stretched his hands to the back of his neck and unfastened the gold pendant he wore around his neck. He threw it at Oliver, who took it subconsciously.

"This is...?"

"We all know it's very valuable to me." Nemo's voice was clear and serious, "Oliver Ramon. Now I'm lending you that value, and you need Return it when you leave here."

Oliver instantly understood: "Okay, I promise you."

Suddenly his left forearm burned, as if someone had cut his skin with a hot blade. After that burst of pain, the vague burning sensation lingered. Oliver took off his armor to confirm, a complex and bizarre engraving appeared on the inside of his left forearm, and was burning quietly near his left wrist.

"The trade mark of the superior demon is similar to the one before Mr. Cross." Nemo laughed dryly, "As a 'abyss breath', it is qualified."

Oliver descended the stone steps and walked in the direction of Nemo. After officially stepping into this strange nightmare forest, he immediately understood the actual meaning of "cognitive interference" - he was sure that he was advancing at a relatively stable pace. It can feel extremely strange, as if he is squeezing through invisible narrow tubes at different speeds, and the already distorted scenery around him is more distorted, passing fast and slow.

When he stopped, he even had a strong nausea, as if the carriage he was riding in suddenly stopped at high speed.

"It's interfering with our perception of time." Nemo grabbed Oliver's arm, who shook his head, his slightly dilated pupils closed. "Sorry, considering the physical condition of this demon... I can't stop interfering rashly, it will hurt it."

"But Vergil's forward movement doesn't seem to have any problem." Oliver stood firm, "Even if you want to advance in this kind of place... If I guess correctly, it can only be matched with the environment. There's something wrong with him."

"That's right." Nemo nodded, "He should be the demon warlock of this superior demon."

"But you said 'its body is sleeping'." Oliver moved carefully, tilting his head to avoid the twisting branches slowly drifting by. "If he is a demon warlock, shouldn't the will of the superior demon be in his body? Or is there another demon other than Dallaene that can split the spirit-"

"No more." Nemo immediately shook his head and stretched out his hand again. "But in theory, there is another situation in the generation of demon warlocks, which is very rare."

"How?"

"Even if I can't stop cognitive interference, I can restore the elements of these dreams - you know, it can't create such a thing out of thin air. They are based on its memories." Mo didn't look at Oliver, "Maybe we can see it."

Black filaments emerged from Nemo's shadow, pouring into the darkness behind those peeling crevices. As they slowly closed, the dark forest in front of them seemed to be mashed to pieces with an invisible mortar and then gradually glued together. Everything around him is reverting quickly, and Oliver has a very uncomfortable feeling - like watching a plate of applesauce turn back into whole apples, and if you happen to be drowning in that pile of jam, the experience is definitely not that good. .

The twisted nightmare is gone, the strange trees floating around are gone, and the surrounding scenery quickly reorganizes. The scene in front of them had become a complete and normal forest night scene, with stars twinkling in the night sky, and the air was cold and fresh.

Listen to what Nemo just said, this should be the basic material of the nightmare - the memory of the superior demon.

"Follow me." Nemo grabbed Oliver's arm again and walked ahead. "Don't stop."

Oliver stared complexly at the hand, then to the back of Nemo's head. Nemo was different, and he seemed desperate to downplay that. When doing things that the "previous Nemo" just couldn't do, there was always a subconscious embarrassment in his voice.

Oliver didn't specifically point it out. He had an inexplicable confidence that Nemo wouldn't hide it from him. If the other party doesn't want to say it, he naturally won't ask. He just stared at Nemo's gripping hand, those long, white fingers pinching his wrist.

This scene is a bit familiar, Oliver thought a little lonely. It was the same scene a few months ago—only he was the one leading the way at the time, and they were clueless, scared and flustered.

But just as normal.

And now Nemo doesn't say that he also knows that his strength has been left far behind. He didn't have any feelings similar to envy, only a deep sense of powerlessness. It surged back and forth along the way, unleashing bitterness in his blood—nemo had been protecting him, guiding him. And he couldn't help him with anything.

He didn't like the feeling of being unilaterally protected.

Oliver bit his tongue hard, forcing himself to focus on the present moment. Now is not the time to be cranky, someone in this "memory" has appeared.

When the group of people appeared, the two of them were walking in a strange line of twists and turns, and not far away was a huge skeleton that seemed to pierce into the sky - a white and miserable bone There was even a trace of blood in it. The rotten stench penetrated his nose, and a strong vomit hit, the smell seemed to be ripped out of his stomach through his nostrils.

Oliver reluctantly held back, and his steps were not chaotic.

On the other side, people in crude cloaks approached the skeleton. They knelt down in front of the half body and smashed their foreheads into the mud reverently. It was a very old dress, and it didn't look like a demon believer. That should be just a group of... ordinary people.

After bowing, they untied the man tied to his back and carefully placed it on the grass.

The unconscious people wore white clothes painted with twisted blood, old and young. This place has not yet become dead, the grass is green, and the people who lie on it are not so alive. Their eyes were dazedly open, their pupils were so dilated that they seemed to have lost their ability to move. These people are still breathing faintly, but have no other reactions.

Trent blight.

The time should be seven or eight hundred years ago. When this plague arose, people responded in a very special way - they would dress the sick in white clothes covered with blood spells, and try to drive away the sick with various sacrifices. The patient's characteristics were also completely matched, and Oliver was very confident in his judgment considering the current geographical location.

The leader shouted something and raised a sharp machete. After a dozen kowtows, he cut off the remaining flesh between the bones and fed them one by one to the patients lying flat on the ground.

Yeah, downright ill. According to that historical record, many people were driven almost crazy by the inexplicable plague. They will search for all kinds of bizarre "medicines" and hold unreasonable "sacrifices". Some people even dig open coffins and grind the hair of sick and dead corpses into powder for other patients to eat, just to get a ray of illusory vitality.

What the leader is doing now appears to be working at first.

The limbs of the patient who swallowed the demon flesh began to twitch, and two even showed signs of awakening. It's a pity that the good times didn't last long - black blood gradually poured out of their mouths, and their bodies began to rot rapidly, quickly turning into a mass of dark, rancid mud. People started screaming and staggering away, and scattered offerings and extinguished torches fell to the ground.

No, not all patients rot.

After everyone fled, a white figure slowly stood up among the rotting corpses. He stared blankly at everything in front of him, then squatted down. As if the voice was recovered for the first time, he let out a shrill and painful scream.

"Those patients don't have enough magic aptitude." Nemo added without looking back, and they left that night and stepped into the day forest. And that scream still seemed to linger in their ears. "The one who stayed, so-so."

"Trent blight, right?" Oliver whispered. "Will this kind of possession be successful? If I remember correctly, the brains of patients with this disease ... begin to shrink and rot first." If the basis of the superior demon's contract is a wish, then this contract is obviously impossible to complete— It is impossible for a completely unconscious human to make a wish.

"Yeah, so this contract is not done." Nemo's voice was a little bitter. "He can't get a complete contract, and it stands to reason that he can't leave the body too far."

The sun is gradually shining, and this time there are two people in the memory they entered.

This time Oliver saw the person of the superior demon clearly. The body was apparently suffering from a lack of pigment, with strikingly white hair and skin, and a lean, thin face. His face was very calm - not a good kind of calm, closer to ashes of numbness than "calm".

His lavender eyes were staring at the person opposite him.

No, that might not be a "person". The other party looked dressed like a warrior, but not in a human style at all. A horrific helmet was buckled on his face—it appeared to be alive, the holes were biologically distinct, and the wrinkles distorted. On the back of the warrior was a large sword, with the texture of the spine protruding from the tan sword, and the whole sword looked like the shriveled corpse of some kind of monster.

"You can't kill me." The ghostly pale superior demon said slowly, "Why?"

"The part of you on the surface is already dead." A low and vague voice came from the helmet, "The part of the abyss can only be killed if you are in the abyss. Even if I kill your body, Your consciousness just goes back there."

The warrior pointed his leather gloved finger at the rotting skeleton in the distance.

"...the pain doesn't go away, it just gets worse. You're just wasting a piece of flesh - you can't afford any more right now, Colestoro, you should All the power is used to suppress the pain."

Colestoro did not speak, his face remained as expressionless as a corpse.

"Two ways. You can wear out part of the flesh, change a body and gain 'freedom'." The warrior said flatly, "Of course, you know the result of excessive wear and tear - you will become A monster that is maddened by pain, and then wrecked by instinct alone. And I will remove your body, and you will return to that rotting body, and die in madness and agony."

"Another way. I can give you a seal when you can't stand it, it won't take away the pain, but it will put you into a deep sleep. Although it still hurts, it's always better than being awake Many - you will die in your sleep."

"

"Vengeance." Colestoro raised his eyes, his voice calm. "I choose revenge, Lord O'Lore."

(m..=)