Mystery: emerging from the wilderness of knowledge

Chapter 531 Wrongful Soul
Seeing the paper man's incarnation melting into the shadows in the distance, the prophet turned around and walked back to the desk against the wall. He rummaged through the drawers to find the candles, essential oils and other items needed for the ritual, and skillfully arranged the ritual of praying for blessings.

As soon as the ceremony was completed, Klein completed the response above the gray fog and sent out a stack of cut paper figures, a dark copper lantern, a picture scroll like a child's scribbling, and a golden metal Rubik's Cube. .

With the appearance of these things, the temperature in the room rises rapidly, directly from early spring to hot summer.

The dim light of the gas wall lamp also became brighter, more like a bright yellow stove, emitting light and heat.

The prophet's clone lowered his head to feel the temperature in the room and the breath of the sun, and murmured in a low voice:

"This container won't last long. It's really troublesome to store the characteristics of the 'Light Chaser'."

As he spoke, he summoned an invisible hand and picked up the metal Rubik's Cube on the ground.

The moment he took it, it was like holding a burning flame in his hand. The skin on his palm quickly dried, turned red, and gradually showed signs of burnt black marks.

Enduring the scalding temperature in his hands, the light blue glow in the eyes of the prophet's clone continued to flow. The glimmer of brass around him quickly moved around, outlining strange symbols in the air and gradually integrating into his hand. In the metal Rubik's Cube glowing with pale gold.

The temperature of the Rubik's Cube gradually dropped, and the many symbols and magic signs engraved on the surface that reflected the golden sunlight also quickly dimmed, turning from golden to bronze with a hint of rust.

Putting the Rubik's Cube into his coat pocket, he bent down and picked up the scribbling scroll that was still on the ground. He looked at Klein who had emerged from the gray fog and said:

"You can get ready to start running. I just used paper figures to lure away a few people who were approaching, but they will react quickly."

"Let your marionette hold this lantern. Since it is essentially a corpse, it can avoid the negative effects. As long as you are within the range of the light, you should be able to be attacked through the distortion or confusion of the connection between you and the marionette. The goal."

"Okay." Klein did not refuse. After nodding, he directly asked his marionette Gilcias to pick up the dark copper lantern and the stack of cut paper figures that were still on the ground.

He quickly tidied up the room, erasing the traces he left, and then took out a piece of paper from the inside of his coat and shook it away.

Naturally, it spontaneously ignited quickly in mid-air and turned into a wisp of ashes, which was blown out of the half-open window by the spiritual wind.

These paper figures that he placed above the gray mist and were soaked in the aura there would have a better anti-divination effect.

After doing all this, he nodded slightly towards the prophet's clone who was leaning against the wall and turning a bunch of scrolls in his hand:

"Which way is safer for me to run now?"

"Inside the city, in the direction close to the church." The prophet's clone nodded slightly.

While speaking, he turned around and pressed his right hand on the wall. The light blue light swayed like water under his palm, spreading outwards, and in an instant, an illusory light blue "door" was formed.

Pointing to the "door" opened from the wall, he chuckled and said:

"I wish you good luck. I will catch up with you after you escape from the city."

Klein nodded lightly and did not ask what he wanted to do here. He took his marionette and walked directly through the "door" on the wall and left the hotel.

After watching Klein leave, the prophet sat back at the small round table by the window. He suddenly raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and the spiritual wall that enveloped the hotel room disappeared in an instant.

Then he took out several folded paper figures from his coat pocket and threw them out of the window casually.

With a sudden gust of wind, these pale yellow paper figures were carried and flew to various locations on the street.

After doing all this, he unfolded the scroll on the table that looked like a child's scribblings.

He rubbed his fingers gently, creating dots of brass-colored light chips, which fell on the scroll. The chaotic colors on it seemed to suddenly come to life and began to flow slowly on the painting paper.

Woo~
A cold wind suddenly blew in the quiet room. Under the dim light of the gas wall lamp, a figure was suddenly reflected in the full-length mirror standing in the corner.

His figure was illusory and erratic, like a disembodied shadow, easily breaking away from the mirror and appearing in the hotel room.

He was wearing a black tuxedo, with sunken eye sockets and a frighteningly pale face. He looked to be in his thirties. His light brown hair was parted in four parts and meticulously styled. His eyes were dark green with a hint of irrepressible madness.

He looked down at the weird little man in his hand, and then glanced around the room with doubtful eyes, not paying any attention to the figure sitting in front of the round table.

The prophet's clone sat on the wooden chair in a leisurely posture. His voice was calm, and he spoke like a warning:

"An 'injustice'?"

"Do you know it's rude to just barge into someone else's room?"

After hearing his words, the other party finally set his eyes on him, with unconcealable malice surging in his eyes, and said in a low voice:

"Are you alone in this room?"

"Of course not, he also has the extraordinary characteristic of getting lost." The prophet's clone chuckled.

The light blue glow in his eyes was flowing, outlining one strange symbol after another in his pupils, making him look cold and rational. The emotions and desires in his heart were also suppressed to the extreme at this moment, and the whole person entered a kind of absolute rationality. status.

At the same time, the figure of the wronged soul who suddenly broke in became transparent and illusory. With him as the center, a cold wind of unknown origin blew in the room, and the white frost was stained with the breath of death. It quickly covered the entire room, and beautiful and dreamy snowflakes floated in the air.

The sudden drop in temperature made people's hair stand on end, and their bodies trembled uncontrollably.

The next moment, all the frost and snowflakes in the room disappeared, turning into a pool of colorful paint dripping to the ground.

"Oh, if you can't call a demigod to save you immediately, then I will accept the 'wronged soul' trait in you." The prophet cloned himself and leaned back on the chair, one after another gray three-dimensional symbols in his eyes. Floating makes his voice very contagious, and he will be irritated and impulsive unconsciously.

As if aroused by anger, the "wronged soul" on the opposite side suddenly took a step forward, and his body disappeared completely transparently.

The next moment, a figure wearing a black tuxedo, with sunken eye sockets and a frighteningly pale face appeared in each of the two pupils of the prophet's clone.

His body became stiff to a certain extent at this time, as if he was suddenly thrown into extremely cold ice, making it difficult for his body to make effective movements.

This state did not last long. He gently rubbed his fingers twice, creating little bright yellow glimmers that scattered on himself.

The next moment, his body became thinner and brittle, turning into a roughly cut pale yellow paper figure, and spontaneously ignited a golden flame filled with the breath of the sun.

Among the golden flames, a transparent and illusory figure suddenly appeared. His body was burned and melted like a candle, and drops of transparent liquid dripped onto the ground.

The strong burning sensation made him scream out loud. His voice was extremely sharp, as if it could pierce the human eardrum and hurt the spirit body.

The glow flowing in the eyes of the prophet's clone, which appeared in the corner of the room, suddenly deepened. Dots of brass-colored glimmers of light intersected in front of him, outlines a pattern similar to a scale, and exuded an eerie atmosphere. Sora was afraid and couldn't help but want to crawl in majesty.

At the same time, his voice spoke with an indescribable sense of majesty:

"The screams of innocent souls are prohibited here!"

The scream that had just reverberated in the room suddenly disappeared, as if it had been transferred to another dimension, and there was no longer any sound in the room.

The "wronged soul" burned by pain in the golden "light fire" still opened its mouth and roared, but could not make any sound.

The prophet clone stood calmly and continued to recite in a very majestic voice:
"Resentful ghost shadows are prohibited here!"

In the center of the room, the movements of the "wretched soul" filled with translucent white frost suddenly stopped. The aura on his body became sluggish and continued to fall. The already pale and illusive figure became more transparent, as if it would disappear at any time.

The prophet's clone stared at the opponent closely, leaned forward, made a fist with his right hand, and while waving his arm, he whispered in dragon language:
"die!"

An afterimage rushed out of his body as he punched, like an executioner executing death, crashing into the "wronged soul" in the center of the room with an attitude that he could not resist or dodge.

Before the "wronged soul", whose breath became weak, could react, the afterimage of the fist waving had already crashed into him.

The body of the transparent and illusory "wronged soul" cracked open inch by inch from the heart, shattering into pieces of red phosphorus composed of crimson moonlight.

At the same time, a crimson moonlight appeared at the window of the room, and quickly reassembled the body of the "wronged soul".

The prophet's clone kept moving, and bits of bright yellow light gathered in his hand, blooming into bright and clear sunlight, and gradually condensed into the shape of a spear.

Phew!

The next moment, the hotel room was torn apart from the outside like a piece of drawing paper. A pair of broad palms with brown and black skin and full of grooves stretched out from the outside, grabbed the "wronged soul" by the shoulders and dragged him away. Pulled out.

"No wonder you dare to be so arrogant, it turns out there is really a demigod following behind!" The prophet's clone sighed as if he didn't know anything.

The ceiling, walls, and floor of the hotel room all began to melt, and colorful and rich paints flowed everywhere, spontaneously converging on the small round table by the window, forming a picture that looked like random graffiti.

As the paint melts, the overlapping spaces in the hotel room return to normal.

Mr. "Wrong Soul", who had just been dragged out of the "room" by the sudden appearance of hands, appeared in front of the prophet's clone together with the owner of those hands.

It was an old man with brownish-black skin. The wrinkles on his face formed deep ravines. His white hair was as sparse as autumn leaves. He seemed to have lived for many, many years, and his whole person was filled with the smell of decay. .

The prophet's clone looked at the demigod who appeared in front of him calmly, and the light accumulated in his right hand became brighter.

He chuckled at the two people who were looking seriously at him and said:

"Rose School of Thought? This is Bayam, the capital of the Rhoside Islands. Is your behavior a bit too presumptuous?"

"At sea, the 'Silent Disciple' cannot defeat the 'Sea King' in the same sequence."

While speaking, he squeezed hard with his right hand.

Wow! With a crisp shattering sound, the spear in his hand that had just condensed was instantly decomposed into a piece of blazing pure sunlight.

This light spreads out layer by layer like a tide, dyeing the surrounding area with a layer of gold, illuminating every corner, purifying all filth, darkness and corruption, leaving no trace of darkness or shadow.

As soon as the light appeared, there was a sizzling sound in the air.

Before they could get out of the light immediately, the two people from the Rose School had wisps of green smoke rising from their bodies.

The light came and went quickly. It only lasted for a second or two, and the surroundings returned to a quiet and cold night.

Woo~
In mid-air, the sound of wind suddenly became fierce, and a figure swept by the strong wind came galloping from a distance.

The "wronged soul" who had turned back into a flesh and blood body looked sideways at the old man beside him with a somewhat uneasy expression, and said in a hoarse voice:
"Lord Jacks"

(End of this chapter)