In the end times, the master will have arrangements for them.
This is the correct path.
"Rest assured, I will make sure she experiences the utmost pain before she dies!" For more chapters visit novel·fıre·net
A gloomy smile appeared on Flor’s face. He could even sense that Rattlesnake was at the consortium right now, very close to him. It wouldn’t take much effort to drag her out, and then—
The gloomy smile froze on his face.
Flor only felt an irresistible force, and he was sent flying backward.
Black energy lashed against his body, knocking over the sacrificial brazier and slamming him into the hard statue.
Flor was filled with disbelief. Whispers reappeared, but conveyed a command entirely opposite to the previous one.
Who told you to kill Rattlesnake?
You are to protect her!
He also sensed that the demons gathered outside the dungeon suddenly stopped fighting Bazatous’s creations, dusted themselves off, and went back to their homes.
Flor seriously wondered if he had gone insane to the point where he could hear two contradictory orders in such a short time. But clearly, the latter was real.
Because he had been struck flying.
When he had the thought of "eliminating Rattlesnake," the master punished him with actual actions, and the black shadow lashed his soul, a burning pain lingered for a long time, which was the master’s chastisement for him.
Immediately after, Flor saw an even more unbelievable scene.
When he moved his blurred vision toward the statue in the temple, he suddenly saw liquid flowing from the eyes of the statue.
The tear-like substance left two dark streaks on the statue’s face, yet the master’s attention seemed entirely away, drifting somewhere within the consortium.
My God, someone understands me!
Flor, in the whispers, heard such a message.
This must be an illusion.
He was utterly certain.
It must be because he stayed in the temple for too long, causing mental derangement—Flor quickly identified the root of the issue.
Firstly, it can be confirmed that the omnipotent Master of Demons could never give flip-flopping orders, so the issue must lie within his own brain.
However, despite his mental state beginning to disintegrate, he could still discern the final command from the master.
He must protect Rattlesnake.
Although the reason was unknown, this was now his mission.
Ethan’s story reached its conclusion.
This story partly originated from Old An’s narrative, and partly from the documents he read in the Mage Tower. As the story progressed, he sensed that the agitated energy of the consortium gradually calmed down.
Rattlesnake lowered her head and remained silent for a long time.
She really did not expect such hidden truths.
No, more accurately, she considered herself a devout follower, yet never actively sought to understand these matters. Her understanding of the master was far inferior to that of an outsider like Ethan.
And now, she had received a piece of information.
Their master had a severe case of PTSD, and the condition was quite serious.
The master’s interpersonal relationships were also terrible, and other Old Gods did not favor him. It seemed he was even beaten by Bazatous earlier.
The followers were collapsing and brewing rebellious plans.
Although it was unknown where He was now, He must be feeling terrible, right?
Could He be shedding little pearls in unseen places?
Rattlesnake could very much relate to this predicament, as she was bullied by others when she was young and could only curl up in a corner to lick her wounds.
"In any case, this is what I gathered about the condition."
This conversation was about to end because he could hear the footsteps of an uninvited guest heading straight here.
It was a tall figure, one he met earlier when Rattlesnake was confronting the other higher-ups of the consortium.
The man seemed uninterested in who would be a candidate, but when he heard the name "Heisenberg," he kept staring at him intently.
The door, slightly ajar, was pushed open. The man seemingly had no intention of knocking, nor did he plan to adhere to any formalities. "Didn’t expect to meet you here."
The man grinned, his eyes bloodshot, making his smile particularly eerie. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Wilson, Aisoke is my son, I’ve heard about the magic scroll you crafted."
His intent was already very clear.
Even more obvious were the followers of Sincaro who had come along with him.
"I hope you can come with me. I want to show you something."