After cutting off Della Lane's mind network, Nemo and Oliver retreated to the corner together.

This time it is not because of disgust with the sages of the abyss, but the scene in front of them is too strange. Aging, dying from starvation, and long-drying corpses can greatly increase the difficulty of acquiring end-of-life memories. After all, no one can make a dead person speak, and the complexity and tediousness of this matter is comparable to recovering the contents of a book from a pile of burnt paper ashes.

Dara Lane was careful.

He took a bit of flesh and blood from the demon eyeballs in his body in front of them as the material for the magic circle. After disposing of the purple-red flesh, the demon took out the Dragon Breath stone dagger and inserted it into his arm without hesitation.

In order to prevent the wound from healing too quickly, Della Layne didn't even want to pull it out. Black blood with faint redness poured out from the wound and dripped to the ground.

The sage of the abyss doesn't care.

He carefully painted the circle with his own flesh, and the decayed floors, furniture and walls soon became blood-stained and covered with strange symbols. The headless corpse was placed in the corridor, and the withered head full of eyes was placed in the center of the large formation.

The superior demon worked tirelessly, and the massive blood loss turned his skin as pale as lime. In contrast, as the great formation became complete, the smile on Dellalain's face became more and more satisfied.

The whole scene is extremely morbid, add a few candles, this is a perfect cult festival scene.

Nemo squeezed himself into the corner again, and none of the sacrifices of the Abyss Church made him so uncomfortable. Oliver closed his eyes very simply, and decided to save his mental health before the nerve was broken.

The sun has not yet risen, and the sky is getting brighter in the early morning.

The birdsong gradually became clearer, and Della Laineen finally completed his preparations. The devil bowed deeply to the head in the formation very politely, and then the formation started to light up from all around, and a dim red light appeared on the lines smeared with blood.

The hazy radiance gathered towards the deformed head and immediately wrapped it. In an uncomfortable halo, the skull began to deform, melting like hot wax. The strange liquid melted into the lines of the array, as if it would disperse in the next second.

But the next second after the head completely melted, the magic circle suddenly shrank. The lines and symbols made of flesh and blood seemed to have life and quickly gathered in the center of the room. They shrank into a ball, exuding black and red smoke, and slowly formed a thin old man who could not see his face.

The blurred figure formed by the blood mist floated to the side of Della Layne, and the demon opened his arms tenderly, as if welcoming a friend whom he hadn't seen for many years.

The figure of blood fog passed through the body of the abyss sage, and this time, it really disappeared.

The early morning light illuminates the moldy window frames, and the room is empty and lonely, with no trace of blood left. Della Lainen stood in the shadows on the other side of the room, standing still. His head was so low that Nemo couldn't make out the expression on his face.

This quietness is totally out of Della Lane's style.

He stretched out his hands vigilantly, black shadows poised between his fingers. Oliver didn't know when he opened his eyes, and Captain Tumbleweed clenched the hilt of the Sword of Rest with a serious expression.

The morning sun is about to rise, and the scene inside the house is getting clearer and clearer.

The Sage of the Abyss finally raised his head. For the first few seconds, he looked old, miserable and lost. In addition, the young and handsome face had some weird emotions, and Nemo couldn't tell it clearly for a while.

Dara Lennion moved, stepping over the corpse with a strange staggering pace, stopping in front of the locker by the window. Then the demon opened the cabinet door and took out the contents with both hands—

Nemo held his breath, and the shadow's pulsation suddenly increased.

But it was just a women's black gauze hat.

Nemo remembers this style, having seen a very similar style on Hagen Ingram's head. But the one in Dellalienne's hands was more refined and more outdated.

The slightly yellowed, faded, dusty gauze cap was decorated with a dark red rose that had been finely air-dried and fixed its form with magic.

"Hagen, unlike me, you must still be as young." Della Layne said in a quirky accent, stroking the old gauze hat. "I see my truth, have you chased your god?"

End-of-life memories. In the moment before death, people burst out with regret, pain, relief, and nostalgia.

Nimo didn't let his guard down. The old man did not come back to life with the body of Della Layne, and in front of them was the last thoughts and feelings of the deceased, a sad echo.

As the only demon who can control multiple bodies at the same time, Della Laineen should have the hope of quickly recovering his rationality.

But all of this is based on the premise that the old man's discovery is mediocre. The eyes that have seen "God", if there is anything left—

A pale flame suddenly rose from the black gauze hat. Tongues of flame rolled over carefully crafted bright roses and worn fabrics. The gauze hat was quickly burned to nothing. Della Reinen patted the dust on her hands and let out a long sigh of relief. He didn't look at Nemo or Oliver, the expression on his face was blank.

The sage of the abyss walked back to the narrow window and looked out the window again.

"Dara Layne..." Nemo couldn't figure out if this was abnormal, so he asked aloud.

"Shh." The demon made a quiet gesture.

Nemo snapped his mouth shut and waited in silence for another ten minutes. But the superior demon remained motionless in front of the window, letting the morning sun cover his face.

"Dara Lanene." This time it was Oliver who spoke.

"I understand very well that theoretically, even if I can live for a long time, I can't learn everything in this world." The demon finally turned his head, his face was terrifyingly calm . "…but this is the first time I've realized it so vividly."

"You know?" Nemo gasped, "I mean, in his last memory, did he see..."

"Yes." Della Lenien looked out the window again, "Although it was only for a moment, it was enough for me to understand."

"Can you tell me..."

"No." After the creepy calm, the smile finally slowly returned to the demon's face. Nemo could feel the nuances. The sage of the abyss is still enthusiastic, but there is a little more heavy emotion in that enthusiasm.

Half sigh, half despair.

"I can guess why this gentleman doesn't want it to go out. Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to be as considerate as he is, worrying about the consequences of worldly scholars knowing the truth - I...well, can only use Kudos to him, it's the only thing I can do right now."

Although I admire Della Lane's decision, Nemo is more anxious at the moment. That meant going around in a big circle, and the two of them got almost nothing.

As if seeing his anxiety, the abyss sage finally left the window. He walked in front of the two with a very serious expression.

"I must admit, I got a research topic that amazes me. And these are thanks to you, to be honest, Mr. Ramon, Mr. Wright. A few days ago, I did Very interested in the power of both...but now, they are no longer my priority puzzles."

Dara Lanen put her right hand on her chest and gave a solemn salute to the two members of Tumbleweed.

"In exchange, to be fair, I also don't want the two to go home empty-handed. I'll give you a piece of information, one that will be very useful."

The red-haired youth raised his head, and his face changed back to the devilish signature smile. But the thorn behind the smile was put away, and it didn't look so disgusting anymore.

Dara Lennion was reluctant to say, and she couldn't just hold him down and torture him. Nemo wiped his face vigorously and looked at Oliver - who squeezed his hand and nodded slightly.

"Please speak."

"Don't try to peep into the abyss." The abyss sage's tone became solemn.

"The demon king of this generation is extremely dangerous and cannot be confused with the previous one."

Nimo almost didn't hold back his expression, he tried his best to keep his emotions steady so that his reaction wouldn't look too abnormal. Mr. Demon King's lover doesn't look much better, but Oliver's ability to adapt is obviously much stronger, and he even has time to squeeze out a question—

"Why do you say that?"

However, the answer from the abyss sage will instantly turn the awkward atmosphere into a cold cave.

"Not long ago, near the bottom of the abyss, my companions and I saw the Demon King with our own eyes."

In the remote capital of Alban, Ms. Savage's mental state is also not very good.

"Daily, tell me, do I still look human?" Ann pointed to her face solemnly. She rejected pajamas with too much lace, which made her neck uncomfortable. She wore simple linen pajamas and pajamas, and even had Erlang's legs high.

The little princess in a simple long dress also nodded solemnly.

"Do I look stupid?"

This time Delia shook her head firmly, almost knocking the cat's whiskers off her hair accessories.

"Yeah, you see, I'm still a normal human being - why are those **** so eager to think about my lover? I thought I was assigned to the breeding area of ​​which farm. Ann looked like she wanted to take a sip, but her eyes wandered around the gorgeous soft carpet, and she held back angrily.

"It's terrible, I can stab those little white faces with a finger. If I really like this type...even the stupid boys in the tumbleweed are much more pleasing to the eye. Speaking of This, Delly, I know your engagement with Godwin Lopez is broken, do you like that guy?"

"We don't meet much." Delia thought for a moment, then replied politely and cautiously. "I don't think we have any interest in each other."

"Alright, it's a prejudice of mine. In a sense, the men of the Lopez family are a bit dangerous." Ann picked up another envelope. The strong smell of perfume made her wrinkle her face and sneeze a few times, so she threw it into the trash can without looking at it.

"Damn love. I don't even know how many noses I have, so I dare to let the younger generation write love poems." The female warrior roared, "Just remembering those boring rules and regulations is enough to kill you. Can those sticky old things save my mind - the only normal letter these days is Mr. Wild Dog's battle report, the only normal!"

"The marshal beautifully defeated the invading army on Willard's side." Delia said carefully, "Perhaps you can reward him appropriately."

"Well, I guess it left a psychological shadow on the enemy." An shrugged, "The process of defeating the prince was going smoothly, I don't know what he was dissatisfied with. That battle report, tsk, It's like how mentally abused he was."

Delia looked at the would-be queen who was sitting on the table in her pajama pants, biting her drumsticks and throwing love letters with her oily hands, and decided to keep silent wisely.

However, An Gang threw a trash can, and another letter came out of the golden letter box on the table.

The female warrior took an angry deep breath, just about to continue throwing—

"Huh?"

She stopped and wrinkled her nose.

This time the envelope didn't have the smell of expensive and pungent perfume, but instead it was elegant and soft incense, mixed with a little sweetness of boiled milk. An raised his eyebrows, turned the letter over, and nearly dropped the half-gnawed chicken leg on the floor.

Delia glanced at the envelope pattern, also holding her breath. Immediately, she lowered her head in a disciplined manner, and gently rubbed the cat's whiskers that crawled onto her hands with her fingertips. Stop looking up at the envelope.

"Don't worry, just watch it if you want." Ann's voice sank, "It's the Pope of the Ruddism, Mr. Quinn. He's just here to say hello."

"Hello?"

"'I have to borrow your companion for the time being, Miss Savage.'"

The "hello" received by the people who are about to be borrowed is not so polite.

"Unlike last time, this time is a real surprise." Jesse Dylan patted his chest and blocked the knight commander at the door of the hotel room.

Adrian swept over Jesse's dress, his expression a little twitchy - the blond youth was wearing an exaggerated apron, he neatly tied his blond hair behind his head, his face was filled with a confident smile, the corners of his mouth Also dipped in a little cream.

"Yes." The knight commander replied helplessly.

"I made cakes, and although there is no oven here, I am confident in my magical control." Jesse gestured, "Believe me, I may be the best cook in the world. Last time you seemed to like it, this time at least we don't need to eat the broken-"

Before he finished speaking, there was a loud bang from the kitchenette attached to the guest room, followed by the sound of the kitchen utensils landing.

"..." After rushing to the kitchen, Adrian raised his eyebrows slightly, "What a surprise."

Jessie was pale.

"Normally, people don't want to predict the fate of a cake."

He murmured, pulling the serious-faced, cream-covered golden eagle out of the smashed cake. The golden eagle shook its wings and dropped an envelope.

"...I think I need to change this habit. It's good to be a little persecuted sometimes."

"The envelope style of the Rad." Adrian pointed out calmly, "It's a summoning order."

"Thanks for the reminder, I'll take note of the cake." Jessie slapped the envelope on the table with a cold face.

The former Judge Knight subconsciously went to get the letter, but his hand was half stretched and turned in a different direction - Adrian reached out and wiped the corner of Jesse's mouth, wiping the stick on his face the cream, then frowned and tasted it.

"I'll go get some tea." He nodded calmly, "Maybe we can watch while we eat."

"Oh." Jesse stroked the corner of his mouth, eyebrows raised. He glanced at the creamy golden eagle that flew out of the window, and patted the letter on the table again.

"Nice job, dear Mr. Quin. Sure enough, the bill is settled."