It was as if the oily sea was ignited, and the people in the garden seemed to be sinking under the water. The flames outlined a bright background in the distance, illuminating half of the night sky like a setting sun. And the setting sun lingered, further burning the few belongings of the poor.

There is a quiet oasis hidden in this sea of ​​fire; in the oasis is the deepest darkness conceived by three mysterious disciples; the black door in the darkness is wide open...

A heavy black mist squeezed out from the crack of the door, and the cold air that had been covered in dust for thousands of years approached.

Bill found that the resident of the alien abyss who was boarding was shivering and shrank into his arms.

High above the sky, beyond the clouds, the decaying and dying stars in charge were shining with strange light. Unfortunately, the emperor's stargazer was so distracted by the fire in the city at this moment that he had no time to raise his head. And the residents were also blinded by the flames in front of them-no one knew that there was a vision in the sky.

There is a sound of footsteps, like swallowing in an ancient well, like a chilling wind passing through a dead wood forest, as if it came from the deep and ancient...

He was originally the power of decay shown by Geneor, the creator of the world. With an invisible sickle, he harvested the doomed creatures in the world; later, with the prosperity of human civilization, he was given many names. The tradition of Nandel Island In belief, He is the **** of death Akon, and some evangelists call him the angel of death. His names also include the reaper who walks across the plains and rivers, the master of the black death...

And tonight, he appeared in the world in his most original form.

There is a classic question in the quest world: is the **** always invited in the ceremony?

A senior person would answer that, depending on the strength of the psychic power and the purity of the ritual, it may be "most" of the gods; a "high refinement" of the concept of "god".

In fact, there is no specific object sitting in his divine kingdom waiting. God is not a person and has no form at all. It is people's beliefs that give them their image.

People do not know the truth about God, but they believe in the illustrations in books and murals.

When those pure rule masters set foot in the world, they can only reside in the subconscious image of the summoner.

Those who witnessed it at the scene at this moment had to realize one thing—"death" had arrived at this moment.

It was the figure that many creatures were afraid to avoid. His thin but tall body was wrapped in a night-like black robe, and the sickle on his shoulder was so majestic and lofty that it was hard to tell whether it was the sharp weapon he used to harvest life, or The dark crescent of the sky.

The River Styx meanders and diverts beside him, as if it has been condensed for thousands of years. Illusory ferry boats drift by suddenly, the wordless ferryman and the boat grow together, the tattered shrouds on their bodies are blown by the wind of the underworld, the undead are sitting in the ferryboat, and the living can't look directly at their chaotic faces …

In another dimension, death appears busy and "vigorous".

As an important part of the "spiritual ring", the whereabouts of life after death is endowed with an ancient meaning in the eyes of the "dead agent".

The heartbeats of the three explorers froze and almost stopped. They sensed the contempt the Death Himself had for the three summoners.

The head of the owner of the black pyramid appeared accidentally from the black robe, and it turned out to be a stern black cat, with one golden and one green pupil explaining the metaphor of divinity and death.

Above his head, a huge skull that looks like a religious painting is floating. If you stare at it, you will find that the skull is like an illusion painting, composed of countless death scenes.

The gatekeeper of the underworld standing behind the walker, the Raven Lord Herota, had transformed into a figure, and had to crawl on the ground at this time.

The Grim Reaper didn't care about the servants at all, and walked towards the terrace.

The black clouds in the sky seem to be too heavy, and they sink into the world in large groups. Surrounded by a black robe, they rolled forward like a black mudslide.

The people on the terrace finally felt the chill through their bodies. A black wind with the meaning of decay blew past. All the torches that were originally lit on the terrace were extinguished, and even the flame on the Laughing Man was extinguished for a moment...

"Nero" with a bright red chest turned his head, and was surprised to find that another **** emerged from the miracle he had constructed, and his sense of existence was no less than his own.

As the black cloud fell to the ground, the stars finally appeared, and the dim star that symbolizes death now burst into the sky with a strange light, like an eye mocking the world's blindness.

The sickle rises high, like a crescent moon proclaiming doom high in the sky...

Then, it is reminiscent of the guillotine, and it is smashed down!

In that pure slash, the air was split, the space was split, and the bottom layer of the source matter supporting the existence of the miracle also had deep cracks, and the layers of appearance were split, revealing the deepest death...

The gate of Hades is so wide open.

Even gods cannot resist the fate of extinction.

Phipides' eyes were amazed, and the harp in his arms quickly decayed into a pile of rotten wood. It was as if he had turned into a human being and instantly aged sixty years, and the soul of a **** was sucked into the gate of Hades like a shining mist...

The **** of Dionysus, who had wandered in the closed workshop for ten years, watched in disbelief as his body was swept away like sand by the wind.

By the time the crack closed, Nero's body had disappeared in the wind. Lost the center, the miracle began to shake and shatter.

The God of Reaper turned and passed the smiling man who had fallen to the ground with smoke rising from his body. He turned his face and glanced sideways. His pair of cat pupils like crystal **** showed no emotion. Then, he continued to walk towards the door, unaffected by the collapse here, and his back was clear.

The garden scenery is broken, revealing the appearance of an old workshop. The **** of death still moved forward, and finally came to the agent of the dead.

The summoner who was prostrate on the ground raised his head and stared at the King of Death with calm eyes.

Death took out an ancient silver coin from his arms. On one side of the silver coin is an unknown monarch, and on the other side is an ancient inscription.

If the head is up, it is alive, and if the characters are up, it is dead. After using the dead night, there is a half probability that the agent of the undead will die directly.

Standing in the waste workshop, Death bounced the silver coin high.

The silver coin that determines her life and death turns and turns in the eyes of the agent...

Finally, the silver coin fell to the ground and bounced a few times before falling into the dust.

The undead agent poked her head to look at the silver coins in the dust, and then she loosened her body and fell to the ground as if her soul had been sucked out. The **** of death stepped into the door, and the black door, which was immobile, was stitched shut. The air is intact.

The world of death was pitch black, and the crazy godhead of Phoebedis continued to fall in the darkness.

When he was still thinking about how long he would have to go through before falling into the world full of undead, he fell into a pool.

After rising from the water, he was surprised to find that the pool water that wet Nero's white robe was actually wine. Pool full of wine.

It's wine! ?

How is this going?

He looked around ~lightnovelpub.net~ with some surprise and found that the wine pool was surrounded by curved glass walls...

where is this

Then, he felt the huge wine glass rise rapidly, lifted, and pierced through the clouds, revealing a huge face high in the sky.

It was a face he knew well—it was his own.

The self in the wine glass is full of panic, while the giant face in the sky has a restrained and polite smile, as if at a cocktail party...

One of the modern gods, Phipides himself.

He is now in a modern tuxedo, taking a sip of wine at a dinner party with fireworks in the sky, amidst the ladies and jewels gleaming.

As if he had tasted a very wonderful taste, his eyes sparkled, and there was obviously a little more passion, even crazy light in them.