Knights Don't Need a Youthful Romance Story

Its pure white wings fluttered slowly, dropping feathers.

Even though there was a mask between them, you could still feel that superior gaze.

A cold indifference tinged with a hint of disdainful arrogance.

Chapter 1176 Bluebeard: This one's in the bag

Standing atop the massive monster's body, Bluebeard looked up at the towering Luo Zhen.

His eyes were filled with madness and hatred.

This reminded him of some unpleasant memories from the past.

I vaguely remember that when I was a general, I always had to go to church and pray to God.

To be honest, Bluebeard didn't have a deep understanding of God.

Even though he was born in an environment where most of the people around him believed in God.

Joan of Arc, whom he admired most and even fanatically worshipped, was also someone who constantly talked about God, appearing to be a devout follower of God.

Even so, Bluebeard remained indifferent to God.

No matter what you say, we just don't care.

Well, perhaps at some point in my life, I developed some interest in or even a fondness for God because of Joan of Arc.

This would allow him to find common ground with Joan of Arc besides war.

But that's all in the past.

After Joan of Arc's death, Bluebeard reverted to his former self, hating God even more than ever before.

Even when I was a child and my family hung me up and beat me for refusing to go to church, I never felt this much hatred.

Bluebeard knew very well that few of his elders or peers were true believers in God.

The reason for doing this is simply to gain more resources and benefits.

Even those clergy who appear benevolent and kind on the surface but are actually scheming and despicable behind the scenes are no exception.

Ultimately, he was born into nobility and was exposed to such dark topics that couldn't be discussed openly at a young age, so he was mentally prepared.

It's a bit boring, isn't it? God and all that.

Only commoners would place their faith in such ethereal things and sincerely worship them, while nobles would treat these things as resources that could be used.

Although this resource requires a little respect on the surface.

So he could still tolerate it at that time.

Occasionally, I'll fantasize about whether God really exists—such absurd things.

But after Joan of Arc's death, the flames of anger within him almost completely consumed his reason.

All my complex feelings toward God were reduced to simple disgust and hatred.

Looking back now, my only impression of God was the somewhat rudimentary and hastily drawn illustrations in the book.

And the hypocritical expressions of the church clergy and the aloof statues during worship services.

It is nothing more than a statue, yet it is revered by thousands; it is carved from stone, yet it is respected.

Bluebeard couldn't understand.

My heart is filled with nothing but disgust.

There might even be a hint of amusement in it.

"What an unpleasant memory."

Awakening from his brief memories, Bluebeard's face was filled with disgust and dissatisfaction.

He always felt annoyed and disgusted by those who were high and mighty.

Not to mention that the guy in front of him was someone Bluebeard really disliked.

The books in his arms continuously emitted a scarlet light, as if they were alive.

You can even feel the excitement emanating from that shimmering light.

Without a doubt, the book in Bluebeard's arms is not simply a 'treasure' derived from his own legend.

It's something even worse.

In fact, Bluebeard was very clear about this.

I don't know when it started.

It probably started from the day the tragedy occurred in Valhalla.

His own Noble Phantasm malfunctioned.

At first, it was a brief feeling that the Noble Phantasm had lost control.

After that, it returned to normal and was even much stronger than before.

A flood of knowledge rushed into his head and nearly made it explode.

That feeling was truly awful.

Fortunately, he was a heroic spirit, and he also had an almost insane belief.

So in the end, they managed to hold on.

Since then, he has broken away from the character of Gilles de Rais and become a completely new individual.

You can call him Bluebeard, or something else.

It doesn't matter.

He doesn't care.

As for what changes have occurred to his Noble Phantasm?

He doesn't care.

Where does the knowledge in my head that is clearly not my own come from?

He doesn't care either.

Bluebeard was very confident, believing that these powers came from whatever source.

He can handle it all.

Come to think of it.

Perhaps these alchemists all firmly believe that they are the protagonists.

Only people like this can achieve something.

Bluebeard was confident that he would not be affected by these forces.

Even if something does change because of power, it is out of one's own will.

Or so he thought.

But in fact, he never seemed to have considered what would happen if he used these powers indiscriminately.

Am I really okay right now?

These questions never crossed his mind for even a second.

The crimson light flickered in response to the turmoil within Bluebeard's heart.

Just as Bluebeard's emotions reached their peak, the light emanating from the books in his arms suddenly receded.

It looks like an ordinary, unremarkable book.

However, the next second, gray mist slowly emerged from it.

Although it is very faint, it truly exists.

One can even faintly hear music resembling a flute and a giant drum playing together.

Strange creatures could be vaguely seen dancing in the gray mist, as if hoping to please some being.

The magical light continued to shine within the area shrouded in gray fog.

A murky aura emanated from these magic circles.

For a time, a scene of chaos and debauchery unfolded.

Giants with muscular bodies emerged from them, their arms covered in soft black fur and sharp claws.

Two pink eyes flank the vertically growing mouth, constantly emitting a terrifying light.

A toad-like creature, on all fours, leaped and broke free from the gray fog's confinement.

They have grayish-white, slimy, giant bodies that can freely expand and contract in size.

At the tip of that blunt, indistinct snout, a cluster of short, trembling pink tentacles grew.

Just one glance at it makes you feel like something is churning at the bottom of your throat, and you can't help but want to gag.

Besides these creatures, countless attacks, poised to strike, were already aimed at Luo Zhen from within the gray fog.

"Oh ho, what a delightful sight!"

With his arms outstretched, Bluebeard's face was filled with confidence and assurance.

A mere mountain deity who appeared out of nowhere.

What do you have to fight me?

Judging from the wildly upturned corners of his mouth, Bluebeard felt he had it in the bag.

What am I supposed to lose with?

How could I possibly lose?!

And Luo Zhen also very generously told Bluebeard.

How exactly is the character for "death" written?

Chapter 1177 I am now invincible

Pure white feathers fell from the sky.

Beneath the seemingly beautiful scenery lurks a deadly danger.

When the pure white feathers fell onto the Kug giant summoned by Bluebeard.

The once robust and imposing body was instantly corroded, leaving a large gap.

It's as silent and imperceptible as snow melting under the warm sun in winter.

But the feeling of pain is real.

The excruciating pain constantly irritated these intellectually challenged giants.

Its claw-like arms swung wildly in the air, even hitting its own kind nearby.

Then came the internal strife and turmoil.

These idiots started fighting each other before the battle even began.

The other monsters weren't much better off.

Stimulated by the pain, the already not very intelligent monster instantly lost its mind.

Luo Zhen flapped his wings in the air, glancing at the wings behind him as he did so.

Watching the energy-like feathers constantly falling from it answered a question that had been lingering in his mind for many years.

Luo Zhen had noticed long ago that whenever characters with wings appeared, a large number of feathers would fall to create an atmosphere, and then the characters themselves would slowly descend from the sky, flapping their wings.

Luo Zhen would feel puzzled every time he saw this scene.

No, do you really have that many feathers to use to create an atmosphere?

Won't you go bald after losing so many feathers?

After the battle is over, do you still need to clean up the scene?

Now Luo Zhen has an answer.

Obviously, it won't cause baldness, since what falls isn't real feathers, but energy existing in the form of feathers.