The Emperor’s Angel of Death

　　 A blood-stained ring slipped out of Soshyang's chest, and the sharp blade that was about to approach his forehead finally solidified in the air.

　　The mysterious dark spirit clan stared at the ring blankly, then bent down and held it in his hand.

"you--"

　　 It raised its head, looked at Soshyang’s blood-filled face, and whispered:

　　 "You guys are back... are you back?"

　　 This ring was handed down by the Soshyan family. According to his father's notes, the mark on it came from their ancestors who fled Ulano.

　　 Seeing this scene, he suddenly realized that this existence might be related to his ancient family.

　　 "Alexey, Alexey... Ah, yeah, how did I forget, you are their offspring."

　　 "Who are you?"

　　 The Spirit Clan released his hand and stood up straight again.

　　 "Come with me, this is what I owe you."

　　 Soshyang struggled to stand up. The wound on his body caused pain in every movement. Although he didn't trust this alien, he still wanted to know what the other party was selling.

　　 Suddenly, the spirit race stopped and looked back at Soshyang's waist.

　　 "Close that thing."

　　 Soshyang was stunned for a while, and then chained the book again, and the singing disappeared again.

　　 He followed the opponent through the hall and came to a circular space where there was nothing but an altar.

　　 Something was tied to the altar, and when it realized that someone was approaching, the creature tried to lift its head from the altar.

　　 The silver chain clinked as it moved, the symbols on the altar glowed brighter, and the white candles steadily glowed green at the edge of the line of sight, but they did not dispel the darkness in the room at all.

　　 The only real light is the cold light from the dark spirit mask and the light from the creatures bound by chains.

Soshyan looked at this thing carefully. Its limbs bend with the growth of joints. There are black feathers and arthropods on the back of the shoulders. The fangs and red eyes without eyelids extend from the face. Its bones are wrapped in amber translucent. skin.

　　 In that deformed body, many organs float like jellyfish, and wisps of red light form its blood vessels.

　　 The creature struggled for a second, then fell on the altar. It twitched its face and hissed at both of them.

　　 Soshyang could feel something scratching the edge of his thoughts, like an insect in a box, wanting to be released.

　　 This seems to be a demon, but it is different.

　　 "This is not the so-called low-level thing of the devil."

　　 As if able to see through Soshyang's thinking, the spirits let out a deep laugh, and at the same time the moisture in their breath turned into frost, passing through the air filled with spiritual power.

　　 The creature hissed, and tried to break the chains again.

　　 "It's a lot more advanced."

　　 I said, and then I closed my eyes for a few seconds. I'm really tired.

　　 Then, the Spirit Race opened his chest at some unknown time, opened it and took out an amber-shaped heart.

　　 When he saw it, Soshyang's eyes felt a sting, and a series of inexplicable words formed in his brain, causing him to take a step back subconsciously.

"what is this?"

　　 The Spirit Race did not answer, the air was filled with the smell of decay like a grave, and he walked towards the creature on the altar.

　　 It retreated, iron thorns pierced out of its flesh, and every eye of it stared at the heart in the hands of the Spirit Race.

　　 Generally speaking, demons don’t feel fear, because they don’t feel anything that is recognized as emotion. They are emotions themselves. They are formed by hatred, desire, and anger, and they just want to destroy the mortal world that created them.

　　 So they are not afraid, just like fish will not be drowned.

　　 But rules and competition run through every line of their existence, unbreakable and undeniable.

　　Because of this nature, some things cannot even be tolerated by themselves.

　　 "After so many years, it's time to end."

　　 Spirit Race walked to the altar, looked down at the monster, and this sentence seemed to be muttering to himself.

　　 It doesn't move at all, for a moment, it almost looks like a living thing.

　　 Then, he pressed those hearts into the chest of that thing,

　　 The creature on the altar slammed upward, screaming and twitching its limbs, and its skin continued to stretch.

The chains tightened with a snap, the icon shimmering on the altar, the spirit tribe spit out a word, the heart immediately penetrated into the torso of this creature, the broken skin and flesh shot out, the greasy black mist and the crying Stacked in the air.

　　 The creature was trembling, its flesh was full of blisters, and the protruding blood vessels were condensed into black rot.

　　 "Come here."

　　 Lingzu turned around and looked at Soshyang.

"do what?"

　　 Soshyang looked at the altar warily, it was like an evil ritual.

　　 "Eat it."

"what?"

　　 "I said, I ate it."

　　 Soshyang's eyes widened.

　　 "Are you crazy or am I crazy?"

　　 "I didn't tell you to eat with your mouth."

　　 Spirit Race said indifferently:

　　 "You are very hurt now. If you don't eat it, you can't go down."

　　 Soshyang walked slowly beside the struggling monster, frowning and staring at it, he could feel the stench of subspace filling up.

　　 "What the **** is it?"

　　 "A fool who once called himself a god, put your hand on it."

　　 Soshyang thought for a moment, and suddenly thought of something.

　　 "You know gray pulp!?"

　　 "Hmph, do you often feel inexplicably empty?"

"you--"

This is a secret of Soshyan. Since the gray marrow spread to his body, he has often felt inexplicable emptiness. This emptiness is not mental boredom or physical, but pure emptiness. He even feels He is just a shell.

　　 But he didn't tell anyone about this, he just buried his anxiety deeply in his heart.

　　 "I don't care what you call that superpower, but I can only tell you that it is the most thirsty existence in reality. If you don't satisfy it, you will be unable to control it one day."

　　 "What can't you control?"

　　 The Spirit Race sneered several times.

　　 "Can't help but eat everyone around you."

"This--"

　　 "Okay, put your hands up now."

　　 Soshyan hesitated for a moment, and finally slowly put his hand on the struggling thing.

　　 The next moment ~www.wuxiahere.com~ The silver silk thread, like a cobweb, spewed out from his hand, enveloping the existence.

　　 Soon, it stopped struggling, and a brand new force surged into his body. The feeling was so wonderful that it almost made him intoxicated, but he immediately reminded himself that he should not be blinded by the senses.

　　 He turned his attention to his body and found that all the wounds had healed, and even the Terminator armor had been repaired completely. A new force surged in his blood vessels, causing his bones to creak.

　　 More than ten seconds later, a sense of satisfaction filled his soul, and Soshyang couldn't help but sigh.

　　 Then the silver threads disappeared, leaving only a pile of smoking black remains on the altar.

　　 "Are you--"

　　 Soshyang turned around, still trying to figure out the purpose of this spirit race, but found that the other party had disappeared, leaving only a reverberating voice in the air.

　　 "Go home, lost son...remember...don't...let them escape..."

Suddenly, Soshyang felt a whirl of the sky. When he thought he was going to faint again, he found that everything had disappeared, the altar had disappeared, and the room had disappeared. He was standing in a collapsed hall, all around him collapsed. Columns and rotten statues.

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