He stared at the cracks in the stone coffin, and in a teasing tone, suddenly burst into a coquettish laugh, like a woman:
"Found you, little one~"
His appearance hasn't changed at all, but the feeling he gives off is completely different.
"Although we have no grudge against each other because you're too weak, I still have to say..."
"Those who are already dead should not come out again. A peaceful death is the best end for you."
No one responded, and he didn't expect any reply either, so he smiled and extended his right hand.
With hands outstretched upwards, dark light gradually condensed in the void, shaped by an invisible force.
It wasn't from the dried, filthy blood within Matt's body, but something far deeper, like a source that devours everything.
A dagger gleaming with a scarlet light materialized in his hand!
"Although he said he didn't like daggers, based on my understanding of him, he definitely does like them, he just wouldn't admit it."
"What a hypocrite! But I like it this way, there's just no way around it."
Card.
When Matt reached out to touch the dagger, cracks appeared in his body, as if time itself was rushing past him.
The body, which looked like a zombie, became even more withered and shriveled, but then fine cracks appeared, as if it was about to collapse.
Ariana, who was controlling Matt, didn't seem to mind the situation. She even observed the collapse process with interest before casually remarking:
"It's really fragile. It seems this is the best we can do. We'd better hurry."
Step by step, with each step Matt took, his body began to break down, turning directly into powder and dissipating.
In just five steps, by the time Matt reached the sarcophagus, his body was reduced to a single leg, an arm, and a head that was more than half missing.
"It'll have to be alright, but that'll do."
"This is a gift, a token of his trust... Heh, no, it's our token of love."
Only Bamat remained, nodding with a grin and thrusting his dagger into the crack in the stone coffin!
A pseudo-divine artifact born from the blood of a god, exclusively for him.
"It's just a divine artifact, yet it's been treated so badly. It's outrageous."
...
...
"He's fainted? That's a strange reaction..."
Shirin, standing on the tower, looked at the unconscious Fran with a strange expression and blinked.
How did he suddenly fall into a coma?
I didn't say anything, did I?
"Forget it, let's just leave it here. No one should notice..."
Suddenly, the sound of something tearing through the air made Shirin turn around sharply and put on a defensive stance.
A figure covered in blood was pierced through the heart by a blood-red spear and pinned heavily to the tower!
boom.
What!
?
Just as she was about to teleport away to avoid the unclear battle, Shirin suddenly felt that the figure looked somewhat familiar...
!
!
!
With her eyes wide open, Shirin couldn't utter a word at that moment.
"You... Ning!"
?
The sight before her eyes made Shirin's blood run cold in an instant.
My whole body felt cold, and I remembered something...
The prophecy that I loathed yet ignored echoed in my ears.
That unreliable old man's prophecy once said:
"You will die in his arms."
This curse-like statement is destined never to come true.
Because this prophecy can only be partially fulfilled in various ways.
For example...
You will die in his arms.
And according to that convention that's only half right...
It can also be said as:
He will die in your arms.
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