The world doesn't need succubi to save it.

Looking down, he saw dark red blood slowly flowing down the steps.

How many people died?!

In the end what happened?

He paused, but forced himself to keep up, and asked in a hoarse voice:

Are you really going to set it on fire?

"meeting."

Behind Turs, some couldn't resist peeking out and following. Finally, a few slaves, unable to resist the temptation of freedom, were also startled and instinctively asked:

"But, are there still people behind us...?"

"I know."

The calm, indifferent voice echoed through the blood-soaked passage, silencing all other sounds.

"The choice has been given; they are the ones who make the choice."

"Some people, even if you drag them along, will still run into swords while praying and wailing."

"And some people, even if you don't say anything, will follow you closely."

The voice was calm and even, but it sent shivers down Turs's spine.

Because his calm and certain tone made it seem as if he had witnessed it himself.

"...How did you know?"

Having asked the question unconsciously, Turs felt an urge to slap himself when he realized what he had said.

Are you crazy? How could you ask such a question?

"No! I..."

They tried to make amends, but it was too late; the figure in front had already turned around.

A strange crimson glint appeared in his eyes as the boy turned and stared at the frozen Turs:

“I can see.”

他 说:

"Because I know."

Ning Feng looked at Turs, at the old man who had chosen to follow him in every one of the 320 choices, and nodded gently.

"I came back because some people want to live."

"I'm just giving them the choice."

Then, he nodded to the others following behind him and added:

"Besides, I've already set the fire."

Tulls: What?

Then, he saw the boy push open the last iron gate...

boom!

The cacophony of shouts, blocked by the iron gate, rushed into the ears of Turs and his men.

Thick smoke and flames, wails and maniacal laughter.

Hundreds of slaves were wreaking havoc, relentlessly beating the corpses of the guards who had previously abused them, venting their pain in a frenzied manner.

Many slaves relentlessly pursued the disheveled guards, using their hands, legs, and even their teeth!

His face was contorted with madness, and he looked as if he wanted to devour the guards alive!

It looked as if an evil god had unleashed divine punishment upon this place.

In the suffocating atmosphere, the boy whispered:

"Did you see that?"

"These people chose to live."

Turs suddenly felt a chill run through his body; he understood the boy's words.

This person is a arsonist demon.

And this fire wasn't just set off between buildings...

That fire.

Burning in people's hearts!

Chapter 480 The Unknown Journey

fire.

There was fire in front of me.

blood.

There was blood on the ground.

red.

Everything in sight is red.

The intertwining of blood and fire turned into a blinding scarlet, sending chills down one's spine.

The air was thick with a frenzied killing intent, causing the hearts of those who smelled it to tremble involuntarily.

Thump thump thump!

It is calling.

Join us.

Become us!

There is a force pushing everyone to join in the revelry and become a part of this feast.

goo...

Turs swallowed hard, but suddenly regained consciousness.

"My Lord..."

Turs had seen such a fire before.

At that time, a similar fire destroyed his family's only house, a three-story building with a small garden.

Back then, he was the one being plundered, but now he's about to join.

Turs moved his lips and looked at the boy in front of him.

The other person's face looked the same age as him, with a thin face and an undeniable youthful innocence.

Although he had many scars on his body, his blood-splattered face still had a certain handsomeness.

They were commodities to be sold, and unlike slaves who could only be used as laborers, each of the Turs had something special about them.

A boy who can read, sing, has strength... or simply has a certain level of good looks that people can choose from, should be the last type.

But this seemingly harmless face appeared somewhat ferocious in the firelight.

It resembles a ferocious beast that devours its prey, a demon emerging from a fiery abyss, or perhaps the abyss itself.

Because the boy remained calm throughout, he was indeed unusually calm in guiding the development of the situation amidst the increasingly frenzied atmosphere.

There was neither seduction nor inducement; they simply turned their heads quietly, as if casually starting a conversation.

demon.

Although Turs was only a novice believer, he had heard of the legends of demons.

This person is absolutely a demon!

Only a demon can bewitch people and bring about such madness.

However, Turs also had mixed feelings, because he had indeed received help from the boy; otherwise, he would have been dragged out and beaten to death by now.

"My Lord..."

Before Tulls could finish speaking, a sudden uproar brought everyone back to their senses.

They turned their heads and saw what was happening over there.

A group of wounded slaves huddled together, dragging an unconscious, fat man, leaving a long trail of blood.

"We caught them!!!"

"Kill him! Let me kill him! He killed my wife!"

"Burning at the stake! We must use burning at the stake!"

"Yes! We can't let them get away with this! We must use the burning at the stake!"

"The others shouldn't be spared either; let them all go down into the abyss!"

……

Burning at the stake.

The torture methods used on cult members are claimed by more than one church to be people who die by burning at the stake, as they are said to be unable to enter the Kingdom of God and instead fall into an abyss.

Looking at the excitement and frenzy on their faces, Turs felt a chill for no reason.

This group of people has gone mad.

Although they were doing things for revenge, they seem to have become part of the madness themselves.

In a flurry of activity, they tied the unconscious slave trader to the central pillar—a pillar originally used to whip offending slaves.

Someone brought wood, and others dragged in more guards, some dead and some unconscious, and piled them all under the pillar, ready to set it on fire.

Just as the madness was about to reach its peak, a loud metallic explosion brought all movement to a standstill.

Ning Feng stood before the iron gate, tossed aside the hand axe he had used to strike it, and spoke calmly to the slaves who were staring at him: