Chapter 391 The Priest of the God of Murder

     On the other side of the town of Keb, the priest Dorn walked slowly through the narrow, dark underground passage of Shak Manor. Www/xshuotxt/com He was a little absent-minded. Although he saw the delicate and complicated statues on the sand and marble walls, he did not actually have any patterns into his mind. At this time, even an apprentice assassin who has just joined the murder temple can easily insert a knife in his heart - but it is another matter if it can achieve results.

    Masters who use the dagger know the power of the dagger, so Donne is grateful and grateful for being able to be transformed by the gods. The power of the murderous god is constantly surging in his body, reminding him of his important position in the whole world.

    "We are the only real power in the world." The words of the Black Saint seem to ring in the ear: "Everything will die, and we are all The most decent entrants of the living beings. We must create a magnificent curtain call for them in the way that best meets the status and contribution of the living, and listen to their confession when they last breathe. At that moment, when they are craving for life Very powerful, but can only help but see it disappear. At that moment, you can truly understand the power of the murder god."

    Dorn was moved to tears, Kneeling on the ground pleads to contribute to the murder god. He soon became a black priest and began to convert graduate students to death. He can now give death directly, but it is difficult for others to bring him death in the same way, which makes him very proud.

    The cloister seems to be endless, but Dorn knows that this is just a magical effect, so that those who are unknown are lost in it and can't find an exit. He knows how to avoid avoiding such a dilemma, but he also knows how to use this effect to walk. He likes to think while walking. And in the endless corridor, from time to time can hear the roar from the arsenal. Every roar means that a new plastic man appears, meaning that the servant of the murderer has another tool.

    Only a faithful pastor like Dorn is the true servant of the murder god, and other assassins, spies, scouts are actually made with the glue People are the same, but they are tools. Those white transparent plastic people are just freaks that use clay monsters and humans to hybridize. They have intelligence. But there is no soul.

    Thinking of the soul, Dorn’s whole body trembles like a sorghum, and he loves all kinds of souls too much. Small, fragile, no more than a flame of a candle. But it can withstand hundreds of thousands of splits and cuts. A strong mercenary or knight can become dozens of plastic people, and their martial arts and previous bodies are generally the same. The world has many misunderstandings about the murder god, but Dorn has seen the creation of the plastic people, knowing that it is the power of creation, the power from death to life!

    Dorn gently patted his head. How did his thoughts go to the glue man again? What are the reasons for thinking about this now? The plan has been finalized. All the servants of the temple will be made into glue, and only the priest who can feel the grace and release the spell will continue to maintain his current body, or become a quasi-elector of God like him, and have a new body with no weak points. Soon, there will be a large army that replicated the world's strongest assassins and fighters to perform - "Don..."

    Don stopped Not moving, who is calling him in the infinite corridor? Is this another assassin training, or is he an illusion?

    "Dorn, come over." The voice rang again.

    Dorn’s tears. He recognized the voice. The Holy One of the murderer is standing in the shadow of the corridor pillars, only to see a black outline. If it weren't for the sake of finding it, the Holy One would not reveal its outlines. They were shadows and darkness themselves.

    "I listen to your teachings, execute your orders, and serve your will." Dorn squatted on the floor and took the cold hand like a dagger. Put your lips on. There is no temperature, no smell, even the shape is like illusion, this is the real divine power, and Dorn is moved to think.

    "You have been thinking hard. This is a rare trait in many of my waiters, I will test you and reward you for this." Said: "Not long ago, an old friend followed my footsteps and came to the vicinity of Kaibu Town. I hid in the forest between the leaves. I don't like elves, they are addicted to poetry, music, and wasted countless hours, so it should Use death to let them recognize the preciousness of these times."

    "Oh. ordinary elves can do it, but the Elves are not your ability."

    Dorn’s eyes widened and he bowed his head again. Go: "Yes, the saints, my strength is not enough to destroy the servants of the elves, but I believe that with your help, this is not a difficult task."

     "H, you are a smart guy, but have you forgotten something?"

    "Test, adult, I don't dare for a minute Forget." Dorn lowered his head and suppressed his excitement. The test of the last murder of the gods was to find a way out of the Mora, to bring out the power device used to make the rubber man, and he succeeded in obtaining the god-given body. The god of murder pays attention to careful layout and perfect execution, both of which are indispensable. So for the servants of God, these pastors need to practice this idea. They don't wave their mace, screaming useless slogans on the battlefield, and charging like wild boars. It is like a brilliant chess player, using **, using fear, deceiving and calculating everything to get a wonderful victory.

     "You are very smart," the Black Saint touched his hair with his hand, just as the elders encouraged the younger generation. "The Elf Saint can only see through your faith at a glance. After all, the burning power in your heart is like a beacon, and your latent ability is not enough to beat him. I give you a handle to kill the Holy The dagger, but how to achieve the goal is your business. Remember, the result is very important, but without the process, the result will be pale and powerless."

     The black saints turned their hands and took out a black stone dagger, using the cold silver smelting handle. If Siegel is here, he might be surprised to shout. Because in addition to the difference in the shape of the dagger, this is clearly a replica of the obsidian dagger.

    "There is no blade, but it is extremely tough and sharp, even the skin made of divine power can't resist. There are four such daggers in the world, except this and knowledge. In addition to the one in the hands of the god, there are two unclear whereabouts."

     "After completing this task, I will start looking for it."
< Br />    “Don’t worry, my servant, plan one thing at a time.” After sending the dagger, the cold voice and blurred body contours of the Black Saints gradually disappeared, leaving only the endless Dorn still lying on the ground in the cloister. There are still tear marks on his face, but the whole body is full of strength.

    In the ground, took a deep breath, and Dorn stood up on the wall. He carefully scolded the dagger made up of obsidian. Every line and crack on it showed the original power. He seemed to see the primitiveness of the birth of the world. It is said that death is earlier than the birth of the world, and will be even later than the destruction of the world. It is the only existence that is greater than eternal.

    He kissed the dagger and accidentally cut his lips. He saw this as a warning and lesson for him. Time cannot be delayed, and the plan should be formulated as soon as possible. He looked at the cloister, walked quickly, and stopped by a dragon statue. Pull the dragon tooth hard until it makes a squeaky sound. A close door opens from the wall, revealing a dark passage behind it.

    Darkness is a friend of the murder god, and certainly does not interfere with the actions of his pastor. After incorporating the black shadow, Dorn returned to his room in one step.

    Under the dim light, a naked woman was tied to the cold iron plate and could not move. Her body is incomplete, and there is only one single thing left in pairs. Her body is opened, her internal organs are exposed to the air, she is still exercising tensely, maintaining a dying life.

     After hearing the movement with the remaining ears, she made a weak voice and begged her death. But death is cheap, and true blessing should be a wonderful journey to death. Dorn loves this woman deeply, how can she let her leave?

    He always connects his senses to her and transfers the pain to himself when the damage occurs. Due to the nature of the godsend, in addition to using such methods, he has not felt pain and fear, especially the fear of death caused by fatal injuries. It is by relying on his own lover that he can relive that feeling again and again, and every time he can make him feel and improve.

     Especially when he needs to concentrate on his planning, the pain and despair that surround him can make him more calm. Dorn gently kisses the girl's one-eyed eye, using his tongue to lick the blood flowing out of the open space and cast healing spells. Under the mighty power of the murder god, death is once again far away from her, so that Dorn can continue to hug her lover.