In the dark hall, countless translucent faces floated in the alchemy matrix above the ceiling. Those dead souls refitted with source and records, becoming nearly perfect copy of the simile spirit body.

At this moment, countless sounds kept ringing from Hedi's ears.

"Your progress has been slow."

"When will it take for this to happen?"

“The change must be made.”

"Otherwise, you will suffocate."

"I said earlier that Roman secrets should be used, and the Greek ones that were eliminated were not good at all."

"It will not be useful to renege on the matter now. It will only increase civil strife. Our talents are no better than Purbulius."

"Bulius has no spare energy anymore... blood, spirit, body and bones, after so many splits, does he really have his original talents?"

"I think it's a fool to create a god. You should try my project..."

"Ha? The sea of ​​artificial silver is simply uncontrollable, but it is not as practical as the re-creation of the remaining evil."

"If you want to talk about this, I won't be sleepy..."

"Enough!"

A majestic soul interrupted those useless quarrels and complaints.

The source quality flowing between the spiritual copy quickly transmits the conclusion of thinking. The sparks of thinking collide and rub against each other, and finally summarize a conclusion that has been recognized by everyone.

The majestic face of the previous generation chief drooped, overlooking Hedi's cold face: "Losing the initiative is like waiting for death. Hedi, you are the chief and you should do something."

There was no resentment and resentment after being poisoned or murdered.

It has not undergone any brainwashing or modification, nor has it been subject to any ravage or torture.

These souls who died and resurrected again with phenomena did not care about providing wisdom and reference for the murderer who killed them, and even did not care about their death.

Even if you know that Hedi is a believer in the flute player, it doesn't matter.

The alchemist's instinct has long overwhelmed everything, curiosity, study desire and uncontrollable exploration impulse, and the important parts that make up the soul are faithfully reproduced.

Unlike those mediocre people who are impure in death, these fanatical chasing people accepted their death in less than a few minutes. After leaving behind a small regret, they began to willingly continue to provide services to the murderer.

No reservations.

They just want to see the results. Even if even this self-awareness is false, they want to satisfy this hopeless impulse.

Reality has proved that Publius's talents are far above them.

Since the existence of the great masters is not comparable to those of them, why not accept their own failures, obey changes, and explore a higher realm?

They don't care about other people's lives, and they don't even care about their own lives.

Besides, I just can’t eat, and it’s not that I can continue to study. After I die, I can continue to pursue new wisdom...

Isn't it good too?

"I don't like to act rashly before I find out the details of my opponent."

He Di shook his head, "The faster you move, the faster you die. After all, aren't you guys who fail because of your arrogance? Can't you learn lessons?"

His fingers hit the armrest of the seat, pondered and said slowly: "That astronomical martial artist is never afraid. Mikhail's projection is nothing but empty and beyond reach. He can only maintain that area, and his other fundamental forces are not met, so don't be fooled.

The real threat is never Mikhail, but the person behind Mikhail…”

He paused, raised his eyes and asked, "Is there anything else other than the gods that can launch a [Previous Confrontation] in today's era?"

"Thirty percent may be Mikhail, forty percent are unknown miracles and nineteen percent come from Helios... In it, there is even less than one percent chance that there is a real god coming here."

The chief of the previous generation quickly came to the most objective conclusion: "The gods are repulsive, and He Di is like two stars will not easily get closer.

After Apollo's Mystery Creation Circle was activated, it was impossible for another god to enter Helios. It was better to say that it was because the divinity recreated by Purulius was too successful, and it was instead used by his opponent."

The representatives of the Dead Warned finally warned: "It has reached the most dangerous time and we must respond."

"I know."

Hedi beat his deputy and said calmly: "I know."

At this moment, in this temple belonging to Hades, the huge matrix in the center of the hall was lit up again under the overlook of countless dead souls.

After offering a large number of sacrifices and countless sacrifices, gold surging like liquid rose from the cauldron, broke through the blood and turned into a descending embryo.

An endless accumulation of darkness emerges from it.

Immediately afterwards, a thin and tall back appeared from it, dark all over, covered with layers of gold ornaments, decorated with lapis lazuli and rubies, and their raised eyes slowly raised.

Smelling the smell in the air, frowning unhappily.

"The smell of an alchemist..."

The crown wearer from Hell raised his eyes and looked at Hedi above, mocking: "Is the contractor you the one? Are you expecting to use this kind of thing to bind me?"

He opened his lips slightly and blew a breath. In an instant, the decayed wind from time broke through layers of boundaries, turned into a torrent, and rushed forward.

Soon, it disappeared in front of the scepter in Hedi's hand.

"The witness of the covenant is the supreme person who sounds the sound of truth-" Hedi asked expressionlessly: "Do you dare to offend His majesty?"

"My master has no second one, jester, pay attention to your words!" A cold light appeared in the beastly vertical pupils of the crown wearer: "I only serve all the decayed masters, the immortal 'Wild King'!"

"This is also the permission of the King of Withering!"

Hedi raised his scepter again and pointed it at his face: "Sumer's Hell Demon, the Frozen Evil Spirit-Teller Gala! I command you with your name and obey me-"

He paused, showing a malicious smile: "Or, you can make another choice."

Under the limitations of the contract, the ancient solidifier fell into silence, and countless phantoms appeared in the strange luster flowing above the gold embellishment, all of which were the distorted faces of the dead.

After a long time, he slowly looked behind him.

In the darkness behind him, a pale face emerged.

Covered under the pitch-black gauze, is a beautiful face that is beautiful, but lifeless.

Gala had no desire to appreciate this amazing beauty, but instead was full of disgust with her empty pupils.

A lie, a false bubble, like the promises of all the jesters, has no truth at all, but the same... is full of threats and malice.

"I will follow the contract, alchemist."

Gala retracted her gaze and chose the authority of the supreme: "Give me weapons, blood, war... Finally, let your doll be farther away from me."

"Then, the cooperation is pleasant."

He Di raised his hand and once again concluded a contract that cannot be denied.

As the darkness dissipated, countless huge shadows emerged from the end of the palace like a tide, and their scarlet pupils were raised, and they could not wait.

"I have prepared the war you want for you, Gala."

Hedi smiled and told the lord of the group who was loyal to death:

"—Before the war is over, learn to get along with [Pandora]."

.

.

At the same time, in another huge hall, the visitor put down his teacup and picked up the cigar again: "I always feel like you're in big trouble, Garland."

"It has nothing to do with you, Izhektel."

In front of him, the Grand Master shrouded in the invisible flames said coldly: "You only need to do what you want to do, and you don't need to worry too much about other things."

"Ahh, don't even even little Garland look down on me now?" Izzy scratched his head awkwardly, full of concern: "Aren't I here to care about the health of my younger generation? Can my body hold on to such a troublesome stubborn disease?"

“More than enough.”

Garland lowered his eyes and stared at the passionate blood flowing out of his fingertips.

The blood fell on the ground and burned pieces of scorched marks.

"Then, I won't bother."

Izzy raised his hand, put on his hat, got up, patted his pants, and said politely: "How about giving you a prophecy for the sake of your invitation to me for tea?"

"No interest." Garland replied coldly: "No matter what happens, everything is a part of fate, isn't it?"

"You are really similar to Publius." Izzy laughed.

"Who said no?"

Garland withdrew his gaze.

Izhektel, the close god from America, the high priest who inherited noble blood and holy will, has disappeared without a trace.

In the silence, Rachel, who was stunned beside him, woke up as if in a dream and opened her eyes.

"What happened?" he asked in confusion.

"Nothing happened."

Garland stared at the mist in the distance, looking at the tower burning with sunlight, as if he could see the embryo of the god brewing in it.
To be continued...