Quadruple split.

Chapter 2541 Too deep into the drama

Game time PM21:13

Southwest Continent, Northern Border of the Griffin Dynasty, Simple Fortress [Death Row]

"Good night, respected Archbishop. I'm sorry that I couldn't go out to greet you in person. After all, you have seen the situation here. Even I, who am deeply trusted by the Lord, am somewhat overwhelmed."

Although his tone was polite, in fact, Lamorlock, standing in front of the sand table with his hands behind his back, did not even turn back to look at the "distinguished visitor", but demonstrated with his own actions what it meant to be unable to cope with so many tasks at once.

As the phonograph crystal in the corner of the room gradually lit up, a chord that made one's scalp tingle also sounded, and Lamorlock closed his eyes, raised his water drop-shaped baton in his hand before the visitor spoke, and beat the rhythm with the melodious melody -

"This is the work "Hannah's Dream" written by the talented composer Claudine Budapest from Belgrade in the year 4699 of the Holy Calendar."

Although he did not speak, Lamorelock's whispers rang directly in the visitor's mind: "Although it is not as well-known as the well-known "Soul of the Desert", "Triumph and Passion" and "Heavenly Dance", as far as I know, "Hannah's Dream", which at first glance seems like an anti-war music and looks back at the ashes of his hometown from the perspective of a girl, is his most satisfying and favorite work."

As the music became more passionate, the baton in Lamorlock's hand became lighter and lighter, and visitors noticed that along with the exaggerated body movements of this "follower", lines as black as ink gradually emerged from the north side of the sand table, winding towards the red fog that was rushing left and right in the south but could never shake off the tail.

"Unfortunately, few people know that the 'dream' in 'Hannah's Dream', filled with smoke and flames, melancholy and broken walls, was never Belgrade, the hometown of the composer and 'Hannah', but the old capital of Teman, the enemy that left a huge trauma to the small principality and nearly destroyed it several times."

Lamoureux's whispers became clearer, and the words were filled with sarcasm and ridicule; "Unlike the compassionate genius composer people know, the real Claudine is also an absolute genius, but also a crazy, extreme, paranoid, and pathological antisocial person."

Perhaps it was because his whispers were so provocative, or perhaps it was because today's visitor really liked Claudine's music. In short, the latter finally chose to "listen attentively" and did not use his powerful mental strength to block Lamorlock's trivial skills from his mind.

"If you think about it carefully, you will know that the name 'Hannah' is more suitable for the old capital of Teman than Belgrade, where half-elves, lizardmen, and half-dragons account for 90% of the population. The so-called 'Dream of Hannah' is an absolute nightmare."

The melody became more passionate and heavy, but Lamorlock's voice was as gentle as ever. He spoke in a tone as if he was telling a bedtime story: "That is a world line that only exists in fantasy. It is the future that Hannah dreamed of, where Termann fell."

The sharp black lines turned into waves, constantly impacting the defense line of the red mist. Every time it surged up, the latter would collapse a little more. In the process, the black waves that repeatedly attacked the enemy at all costs were also gradually collapsing. However, every time it receded, it would bring more complex, denser and more turbulent black lines.

"In that future, the original invaders became the invaded, killed, slaughtered, ravaged, and tortured by the souls of those who should have died gloriously in battle."

The whispers in the visitor's mind became more and more joyful, and murmured passionately: "The blood of sin is spilled all over the earth, watering the enchanting and soul-stirring red flowers that emerge from corpses and ruins. Laws and morals have long been trampled into the muddy old city, sinking into the abyss with their fellow evildoers."

On the sand table, the black lines were coated with a layer of crimson, making them even sharper and more powerful.

"That's a twisted fantasy."

"That is a vicious ambition."

"That's the incompetent lunatic."

“That’s the lyricist’s high song.”

"There is no justice, no morality, no nobility, no meanness,

"Only the most brutal laws, the most deadly conspiracies and the most naked background."

"Listen~ my accomplice, our enemy is wailing."

I don't know when he stopped whispering, but turned his head suddenly to look at the visitor. Lamorocco slowly passed the baton across his neck. His beautiful phoenix eyes were filled with joy, intoxication and pure malice, but his tone was like that of a glorious martyr: "Their despair and madness will forge our victory and glory. Their spirits, blood, bones and flesh will brew the nectar we offer to our Lord!"

At the same time, countless black lines on the sand table pierced through the red mist at the speed of almost burning themselves out, completely tearing it apart.

"Hello, General Lamorlock."

His head was full of holes and pits, like a fat man who had lost nearly half his weight in a short period of time. The old man, who looked three parts human and seven parts Shar Pei, with a large frame but separated skin and flesh, bowed to Lamolock with some effort and said in his hoarse voice like an old bellows, "Eden Jones, I am here to visit you on behalf of Archbishop Moon Shadow."

Lamolock widened his eyes in surprise and exclaimed, "Archbishop Eden? My God, although you looked half dead when we last met, your current appearance... is really beyond my expectations."

"Archbishop Moon Shadow has made some 'transformations' on me that are more practical than aesthetic, so that I can recover faster and continue to serve my lord."

Eden replied calmly, and then sneered, "Although she was also shocked when she saw my 'honor' and immediately sent me here to see you, it's harmless. A loser should have the consciousness of a loser."

Lamorlock frowned slightly at first, then returned to his usual smiling face, and smiled at the fallen old man who had ruined the entire Northeastern Diocese in the Holy Mountain of Sumire and was rescued by Tom and brought back to the Dreamland Theocracy together with Lucius Lestrange, "What are you talking about? Since we are all loyal servants of our Lord, there is no such trivial identity as winner or loser among us."

"Perhaps, General Lamorok."

Eden didn't seem to care about the 'comfort' of the man in front of him. He just raised his hand and pointed to the sand table behind Lamolock, and asked calmly: "So can you tell me...what does this mean?"

"This is the battlefield where our army is unstoppable and will sacrifice the heretics of the Griffin Empire to our Lord. It carries the supreme glory."

Lamorelock gave a meaningless answer in a brisk tone, then changed the subject and said leisurely: "But dear Lord Eden, although I do have the meaningless title of 'Chief of Staff', in my opinion, the trust of my Lord is the only thing I can be proud of."

Eden's scary-looking face almost crumpled into a ball: "...thing?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't have much education since I was a child, so I often get into awkward situations where I can't express myself clearly. You just need to understand me."

Lamolock sincerely apologized for his inappropriate wording, and then continued: "In short, I don't think there is anything to be proud of in being the Chief of Staff of the Dream Theocracy, so why don't we honor each other by our respective positions under the glory of our Lord?"

"Ah."

Eden showed a half-human, half-ghost smile, raised his eyebrows and said, "So, rather than General Lamorok, you would rather be called... His Royal Highness the Son of God?"

"Haha."

Lamorelock did not deny it, but smiled happily and exaggeratedly: "You are too polite."

"Haha~"

Eden also laughed, but then his face suddenly darkened and he said in a cold voice, "Let's be frank, Lamorok. Archbishop Moon Shadow needs to know what you are doing. As our leader and the only powerful parish priest of the Whispering Sect, you should know that she doesn't want you to continue advancing southward."

Lamolock nodded: "Oh, I see."

"You knew already?"

Eden cast his gaze towards the sand table behind Lamorok, which was still 'ready to move' in the literal sense, and asked gloomily, "What is this?" Lamorok laughed happily and repeated what he had just said without missing a word, "This is the battlefield where our army is unstoppable and sacrifices the heretics of the Griffin Empire to our Lord. It carries the supreme glory."

"Listen, Lamorok, even though Archbishop Moon Shadow's 'sight' cannot leave the Theocracy, and cannot spy on you as my Lord's favorite, it does not mean that she cannot know what happened here."

Eden took a deep breath and said in a deep voice: "I know you are intercepting the messengers sent by the Griffin nobles to the Theocracy, but it won't be long before the news from the border reaches the Holy City. By then, you will be facing the Moon Shadow Thunder..."

"Thunderous rage?"

Lamorlock interrupted Eden with a chuckle, and leisurely recited the "Sword Dance" that the latter had never heard of: "In the past, there was a beautiful woman named Gongsun, whose sword dance moved all directions. The spectators were as depressed as the mountains, and the sky and the earth were low and high for a long time. She was as swift as Yi shooting down the nine suns, and as agile as the emperors riding dragons. She came like thunder and stopped with anger, and ended like the clear light of the river and the sea... thunder and anger?"

Eden frowned and asked curiously, "What nonsense are you talking about?"

"I just suddenly remembered this poem that describes a beautiful woman dancing."

Lamorok shrugged, then suddenly asked Eden: "Excuse me, Archbishop Eden, but do you know Elvish?"

Eden's face darkened, and he said coldly: "I don't have time to joke with you, Lamorok, if you want to drag it out..."

"I don't want to delay, Lord Eden. I can tell you now that I will continue to push the battle line southward to the foot of Charon City tonight and burn the Griffin Lion Flag and the Edward Family Coat of Arms on the city wall before noon tomorrow."

Lamorlock waved his hand and smiled at Eden, who had a dazed expression, "I promise, if you are willing to cooperate with me briefly, then I will open my heart to you and tell you all my plans. How about that?"

Eden was silent for a long time before he asked in a dry voice, "You'd better tell the truth, Lamorlock. Otherwise, even if you have the help of Tom Lestrange, you can't stop me from reporting everything here to Archbishop Moon Shadow."

"Of course. By the way, your savior doesn't like others calling him by his name. Please be more careful in your future interactions."

Lamorlock kindly reminded him, and then asked again: "So, dear Archbishop Eden, do you know Elvish?"

"A little bit of dabbling."

Eden glanced at Lamorok and said calmly, "In addition to standard elven language, I also know a little bit of ancient elven language, royal court official language, dark elf language and tree elf language. My reading and writing level of flower elf language is average, but I am quite fluent in speaking it."

Lamorok looked at the ugly old man in front of him in surprise and asked in astonishment: "Are you an expert in Elvish?"

“I’m a folklorist.”

Eden, who had a normal life before he fell into the Whispering Cult, shook his head and said impatiently: "Common and Elvish were very important to my past work, that's all."

Lamorok nodded slightly and asked curiously, "So how many languages ​​do you know?"

"More than fifty."

Eden patiently answered and said coldly: "You are a little too curious, Lamolock."

"It's just a common man's curiosity about the academic world. So, let's get back to the point—"

Lamorok smiled, and then said in a slightly more formal tone: "Now, please say it again in Elvish, 'She doesn't want you to continue to advance southward.'"

"What do you mean?"

Eden frowned and asked, "What are you trying to do?"

"You just need to choose to cooperate or refuse to cooperate, Lord Eden."

Lamolock looked at the old man in front of him calmly and said softly, "The only thing I can be honest about is that I have no ill will towards you at the moment."

"This 'currently' is used very honestly."

Eden said this casually, and then met Lamorok's request, which anyone could do, and repeated what he had just conveyed in standard Elvish: "She doesn't want you to continue advancing southward."

"Oh haha~"

Lamorlock immediately laughed happily and clapped his hands happily, saying, "So that's how it is. This is really an interesting prank."

Eden looked at the man in front of him who seemed to have an abnormal brain and asked in confusion: "What are you talking about?"

"It doesn't matter what I say, Lord Eden. What matters is that you are doing a good job, so I decided to fulfill my promise and open my heart to you and tell you all my plans."

"You better do that."

"Then, my initial idea is to completely drag the Dreamland Theocracy into the war with the Griffin Dynasty, and completely destroy Archbishop Moon Shadow's wishful thinking of quitting while he is ahead."

"……Why?"

"Because the interests of the Dream Theocracy have nothing to do with my Whisper, Master Eden."

"!"

"Perhaps someone is too immersed in the drama, but our Lord... has never been the long-fallen goddess of dreams."

"..."

"That's why I emphasized that Lamolock is the favored one of our Lord, not the chief of staff of some puppet state~"

"..."

"Now, dear Archbishop Eden, the time has come to choose."

Chapter 2532: End