infodatos Chapter 327 Speculation
Chapter 327 Speculation
Chapter 327 Speculation
Ugh!
The wind suddenly grew low and swirling, with swirling eddies of air circulating in the room, wrapping around Sirion's limbs and making him feel as if he were stuck in mud.
The elf Olivia, wielding a cold, gleaming, iron-black dagger, charged toward him at incredible speed, carried by the wind.
At the same time, an indescribable air of authority emanated from the gray-clad man standing behind, and he spoke in a deep voice: "The use of substitutes is prohibited here!"
Cyril stood still, the illusory book reflected in his eyes flipping rapidly.
Immediately, a clear and holy dawn emanated from his body, and a refined full-body armor quickly condensed on his skin.
Whoosh~
The iron-black dagger sliced across the surface of his silver armor on his chest, and the immense force accompanying the clanging of metal sent him staggering back several steps.
Through the gaps in the crown and helmet, the illusory books were still turning their pages.
He then reached out and grasped the air, making a slashing motion. The clear, silvery dawn appeared in his hand, quickly condensing into a sharp, sturdy, heavy, and broad greatsword.
The elf Olivia's azure pupils contracted slightly as the silver greatsword that Cyril was wielding magnified in her eyes.
hum~
A violent shockwave erupted between the two, propelling them backward and slowing down Cyrien's sword swing.
After a brief pause, the broad, silvery-white blade drew a bright white line through the air, leaving a crimson wound on the elf Olivia's chest and abdomen.
Bright red blood oozed from her wound, transforming into a thin, frail, blood-red figure that lunged at Cyril.
Bang!
With a dull thud, Cyril took two more steps back and bumped into the wall.
The crimson figure crashed into the silver "Dawn Armor," failing to break through the armor's defenses. Instead, it was purified, becoming somewhat fainter.
At the same time, the gray-clad man standing at the back began chanting a passage in ancient Hermetic: "This place..."
Before he could finish his pronouncement, Cyril had already plunged the silver greatsword in his hand into the floor, and the illusory book reflected in his eyes was flipping rapidly.
"Light Storm!"
The giant sword then disintegrated, turning into fragments of light like the dawn.
They were densely packed and countless, forming a shimmering and violent hurricane that swept forward.
The blood-red figure was instantly sliced into pieces by a dense barrage of light blades and vanished without a trace.
Just as the wind helped Olivia regain her footing, the elf and the gray-clad man behind her suddenly changed their expressions. The not-so-spacious bar hall offered them very little room to hide.
Under Cyril's deliberate manipulation, the shimmering "storm of light" has blocked their escape route.
Suddenly, bright and warm flames, like the spring sunshine, ignited on the gray-clad man's body. His aura began to rise, along with a deep and indescribable majesty.
He then raised his hands and pushed forward forcefully: "Seal it off!"
Countless flowing, extremely viscous, transparent liquids suddenly appeared and formed a giant transparent amber around him and Olivia.
The moment the giant amber took shape, a flashing and violent hurricane struck it, unleashing a deafening sound of countless sharp blades slicing through glass.
The huge, transparent amber was covered with dense scratches, constantly vibrating and shaking, but it never broke.
A few breaths later, the "storm of light" that shimmered with sharp silver light dissipated.
The massive amber, riddled with countless cracks, silently crumbled, revealing a pale-faced man in grey robes and an elf named Olivia with deep and shallow cuts on his body.
He had just enhanced his abilities by burning his life force, but he still couldn't completely withstand the impact of the "storm of light," and his body was cut with many non-fatal wounds.
"I need to replenish my life force," he whispered, panting.
As soon as she finished speaking, black flames, blazing with undisguised evil, erupted from Olivia, the elf who was standing in front of him and was about to speak with concern.
Like leeches drawn to blood, they clung desperately to Olivia, burning their lives and draining her energy.
Bright red blood kept seeping from her wounds, scattering into the air and then transforming into a thin, pale, blood-red figure.
The crimson figure clung tightly to her, restricting her movements while continuously absorbing her blood to become clearer.
"What...do you want to do?"
Her face turned deathly pale from the rapid loss of strength, blood, and life, and her body became weak.
As she struggled to question them, swirling gusts of wind formed around her, attempting to push away the black flames and blood-red figures clinging to her body.
Puchi~
A hand, covered in deep wrinkles and pointed at the tip, like it was studded with wooden spikes, pierced her body from behind.
The tearing pain from her vest made her body stiffen, and her body instinctively trembled. The nascent gale and wind blades instantly dissipated.
At the same time, a deep fear spread through her heart, the black flames on her body burned even more fiercely, and the blood-red figure became clearer.
The gray-clad man who had slipped his hand into her vest gradually regained his rosy complexion, and the wounds on his body were rapidly disappearing.
The next second, a bright flame, like the spring sunshine, ignited on his body again. He looked like a messenger of spring and life, pure and holy, with an inherent dignified yet approachable aura.
His gaze softened, like that of a loving mother (or father?) as he looked at Sirion. His right fist clenched, and his lips parted slightly: "Death!"
A blurry afterimage, bearing a striking resemblance to the gray-clad man, appeared out of thin air in front of Sirien and threw a punch at him with an irresistible force.
Cyril's figure crumbled instantly under the attack of the blurry figure, revealing a life-size portrait behind him.
The gray-clad man's face instantly turned grim, all traces of his previous kindness and gentleness vanishing: "A substitute? Impossible! How could you violate the rules I set?"
"This isn't a stand-in; you just can't distinguish between fantasy and reality."
Further into the painting, blue flames continued to condense in Sirion's hand, and a solid spear wreathed in flames had already taken shape.
As he spoke, he took a step forward, leaned forward, and threw the flaming spear in his hand.
The gray-clad man's pupils contracted; he felt a real, unprecedented threat of death.
"Closed off!"
Before him, layer upon layer of transparent walls appeared out of thin air, then silently melted and shattered, broken through by a blue flame spear carrying terrifying heat and power.
He only had time to shield the already controlled elf Olivia in front of him, while simultaneously causing thick, dark brown, bark-like wrinkles to appear on his body.
boom!
With an explosion more powerful than high explosives, layers of crimson, pale blue, and cyan flames spread out, carrying terrifying impact and temperature, ripping off floors and chairs, shattering ceilings, and tearing walls apart.
Cyril was slammed against the wall by the ripples of fire, and his Dawn Armor was covered in cracks.
"Phew, thank goodness I had the foresight to don the Dawn Armor." Using the "War Bishop" ability in a confined space was truly exhilarating.
He paused, then snapped his fingers, creating a gust of wind.
The whistling, impatient air currents blew the heatwave and flames in opposite directions.
Where the bar used to be, now there is a charred pit nearly 10 meters in diameter with obvious signs of carbonization.
The elf and the "Fallen Mother Goddess" follower who had been used as a blood bank by their companions had completely disappeared, seemingly vanished without a trace in the face of this fierce attack.
After waiting a few seconds, Cyril saw specks of azure and silver light emerge from the air above the charred crater and slowly coalesce.
Interspersed among them were traces of darkness, which appeared briefly and then quickly dissipated naturally.
hum~
Amidst a humming sound reminiscent of a vibrating sword blade, a pool of flowing silvery liquid metal descended from the sky.
They spread out into large swaths of viscous, heavy mercury, extinguishing the surrounding flames before quickly reforming and coalescing into a man dressed in a silver robe, with a gentle demeanor, like a kind elder.
"The Silver Knight?"
Cyril's expression froze for a moment, then returned to normal.
As one of the two most important ports on Sonia Island, coupled with its geographical location and the tense relationship with Rune, it is quite normal for the Church of the God of War to have a Sequence 3 Saint stationed here.
The Silver Knight, who had just arrived, looked at Sirion with a deep gaze, his aura suddenly changing, like a drawn sword hanging above his head.
goo~
Cyril couldn't help but swallow hard.
The aura emanating from the other party seemed to materialize into a sharp edge, causing him to feel a stinging pain in his eyes and mind.
The next second, his already cracked "Dawn Armor" silently shattered, turning into countless tiny silver specks of light that gradually dissipated into the air. A deep voice sounded in his ear: "Randolph Carter?"
"I hope you can give me a reasonable explanation."
Cyril glanced at the "Silver Knight" whose demeanor and attitude seemed out of place with some surprise, then pointed to the light spots that were constantly emerging, slowly rotating and converging above the charred pit.
"I am cleaning, uh, the believer of that great mother, the gift-giver."
"Not the 'Earth Mother Goddess,' but the great mother who has always influenced Him, a terrifying evil god."
"I can't say more, but you can pray to the 'Great God of Knights,' and I think He will answer."
The Silver Knight frowned, looking in the direction of his finger at the specks of light that were rising in the air, a mixture of dark blue and silver, and a complex dark green symbol appeared in his eyes.
After a brief stare, he looked away and turned to Cyril: "There was an aura of extreme evil, but it is dissipating rapidly."
He paused, then added, "You've made too much of a commotion. This kind of thing should seek official cooperation. We're not the Storm Church's raging people who are used to thinking with their muscles."
"Under reasonable circumstances, we will provide assistance and cooperation even to wanted adventurers and bounty hunters."
Sirien was somewhat surprised by the other party's attitude, then smiled and nodded, saying, "Okay, definitely next time."
As soon as he finished speaking, he turned his head as if sensing something and saw a long spear, crimson and blazing with white flames, shooting towards him from the distant horizon.
boom!
The flaming spear plunged into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust before splitting into streams of pale yellow-white flames that quickly gathered on the ground and reformed into a figure in a red military uniform.
His aura carried an air of quiet authority as he calmly surveyed his surroundings before finally settling on Sirion.
Cyril responded with a faint smile. He could sense the scrutiny in the other's eyes, as well as a hint of malice.
After a brief exchange of glances, their eyes met and then passed each other. Cyril placed his hand on his chest in a gesture of respect, his eyes flashing with the illusory pages of a book. He took a step forward, and his figure vanished from the spot like a faded oil painting.
The man in military uniform turned to look at the "Silver Knight" beside him, frowning, and said, "Why did you let a wanted adventurer escape?"
The Silver Knight held his hands in front of his chest as if gripping a sword, and said in a deep voice, "The Lord said, respect him, ignore him."
, 7
The man in military uniform's light brown eyes narrowed slightly.
This is... an oracle?!
Why would the "God of War" pay attention to someone who is not even a believer of His, and even send a divine decree to him?
Or perhaps Randolph Carter's public identity is just a disguise, and his actual identity is a member of a secret team formed by the Church of War.
As his thoughts raced, the Silver Knight briefly recounted his conversation with Sirion.
"A follower of the Great Mother? A benefactor?" The man in military uniform frowned deeply.
After frowning and thinking for a while, he finally said, "This is one of the elves' strongholds. The military has been keeping an eye on this place with their informants, and they have indeed been more active than before in the last two months."
"It seems our indifference has emboldened these guys who should have been swept into the dustbin of history, and they think an opportunity has presented itself."
"Hmph, they dare to cooperate with even an evil god, aren't they afraid of being devoured whole, blood and bones?"
After a brief pause, he added, "I will report this to the Empire, and afterwards, armed forces should be organized to carry out a purge of these restless elves on Sonia Island."
The Silver Knight nodded earnestly and said, "The Lord will pay attention and will give us revelation when necessary."
The man in military uniform nodded slightly, silently raising the level of importance and danger of this matter several notches in his mind.
...For the "God of War" to personally pay attention, that evil god known as the Great Mother must be extraordinary. Could she be related to the "Earth Mother Goddess" worshipped by Feneport?
Perhaps Randolph Carter, who just left, didn't belong to the secret team formed by the church, but represented the "Earth Mother Goddess," which is why the "God of War" sent him a divine message. The two gods have always had a good relationship.
As he pondered, he noticed a group of tall, lightly armed soldiers approaching from the end of the street.
This is the Twilight Sword squad belonging to the Church of the "God of War".