Chapter 121: Conflict (on)

He is still dreaming
He couldn't feel the blood flowing in the veins, and he was unaware of the sharp blade that was spinning in the skull, the brain exposed in the cold air, and the thorns probing in the shell.
In his mind, only the short time passed, those pictures have been haunted by indescribable fear.
The world in front of me became more and more narrow during the bumps. Every time the right foot of the boot lost contact with the rough ground, it would wear off more skin and meat. He stumbled, and the expensive fur coat became because of the penetration of blood. It was heavy, like a real body hanging on his shoulders, but he couldn't tell if the blood on it came from him or someone else.
There are many corpses creeping on the long stone road, their cold faces freeze their expressions at the moment before death, and large and large red blood stains are marked anywhere on them. The number is so large that it makes him feel his own. Tongue and gums are numb, maybe there are more in the dim grass on both sides of the road.
The carts that were pushed down burned with the last embers, daily necessities, weapons, books, and clothing scattered all over the place, some covering their masters.
Many familiar faces crossed his eyes, Dassault lying on the dustpan, he was a tailor, with a wife and two sons, they were a pair of lovely brothers; Sharif with a gun in his hand, he There is a decent job at the post office, and there is a fiancee; Trichet, whose chest is cut under the wheel, a policeman, who is deadly clutching his beloved pistol...
The screams of the near-dead rang in his ears again, like countless ghosts trailing behind him, narrating and crying to him, his throat choked, but there was no sound.
The cold vision glanced over his back neck, and the illusion of claws brushing across the cerebral cortex made him wake up immediately.
I never got rid of it, and the nightmare has not subsided.
He struggled across the trench on the side of the road, breaking free from the only light, trying to hide himself from the darkness.
The jagged weed cut a blood stain on his right foot, but he was numb to the pain, and the only thought in his mind was to leave quickly, no matter where he went, as long as he could get rid of the demon, the real Murderer.
He crossed the wasteland and entered the woods, but the fear behind him still lingered.
Kai Meng's holy name meditation in his heart, hoping to be blessed and inspired, he put his right hand into his arms and held the warm mahogany gun handle.
"Ah ah ah ah ah!"
He turned violently, making a hysterical roar, pulling the trigger frantically towards the darkness, the flame of the muzzle illuminating his hideous face, and the eyes behind the glasses that were driven into fear by madness.
The bullets quickly finished, darkness fell again, and a faint smoke rose from him.
I don't know if he hit the target, but the strong sense of persecution disappeared, and he seemed safe anyway.
He exhaled with a trembling lung, released his inner pressure, and then turned around.
Oncoming was a fist wrapped in black gloves.
"what!!!"
He screamed and fell to the ground, blood spattered with fragments of glasses.
In the blurred vision, a shadow came over him, and his large iron-like hands strangled his collar and lifted his upper body.
"Wilson Wallace, an imperial congressman, has two oil mills and a silver mine under his family..."
The figure spoke standard Kyniya, with a strong eastern accent, deep and magnetic, and a little joking.
"...The empire has given you enough respect and status, why?"
He wiped his eyes with one hand, but he could only see a pair of brutal light spots like wolf eyes. The other party seemed to hide the entire face in the shadows.
But he will not forget this voice. On their way to the new camp, it was the voice that issued the command of slaughter. What was the identity of this voice's owner before this? Seems to be a chef? Or is it a priest? Or is it a teacher who has passed her by?
He wasn't sure when the other party started to join their team. It wasn't until the black evil dogs started killing from the sky that he realized that the other party was already preparing to lead them into the end.
Only, let go of myself.
The bitter hatred ignited from the chest, not only because of the dead compatriots, but also the light tone of the other party, just like the military boots that stepped on their homes.
"Respect? Your tyrant's evil dog also knows what respect is!"
He grunted and gritted his teeth, letting blood splatter from his mouth, the group just loosened his entire row of teeth just now.
"We will not succumb! Father Kaimon and Saint Venus bless this land! The kingdom of Mrs. Jera will not succumb to the heresy that is with you and witchcraft! Never!"
The figure made a loud chuckle, and then let go of him, straightened his waist and pulled out something from his pocket.
Snapped!
As the lighter lit up a bunch of flames, the face shrouded in shadow appeared in front of Wilson. This is an indifferent man with a knife-like face, a disgusting black uniform and a symbol of violence and dictatorship. Mark-the secret guard from the Purple Palace.
In the sneer, the secret guard lit up the things in his hand, and Wilson's eyes immediately swelled with blood.
"You wild dogs!"
He stretched out his hand like crazy, trying to knock him down, but a muddy boot heavily stomped his head back on the ground.
The leaned down and placed something in front of his eyes. These were two photos, which were slightly blurred black and white images. One of them was a mature lady about 30 years old, and the other was 13 or 4 years old. Young girls, but their expressions are full of fear, and their bodies are naked.
"Mr. Wallace, I sincerely hope that you can let go of your prejudice against the empire. Your majesty has never been harsh on you. Are you really for those mud legs and miners? You are a decent person with an identity, despite such unpleasant happening Thing, but the empire still hopes to be able to cooperate with you, as long as... you hand over those rebellious lists."
But in response to him, there was only one curse.
"I don’t want things to develop into situations that nobody wants to see, for example... Your wife and daughter appear in the cheapest brothel in Venus (Capital of Retino Rikum), I believe your Many old friends will definitely be willing to support it."
This threat made Wilson no longer able to speak out ~EbookFREE.me~ but he did not respond to each other, just clenched his teeth and let the tears fall into the dirt.
His tenacity even exceeded the expectations of the guard.
"It seems that we can continue to talk only if you let yourself see all this."
The secret guard put away the photo and handcuffed Wilson's hands in handcuffs, preparing to take him away, but a figure lay in front of him.
"The Father is on, stop your evil deeds."
A white robe hung with scriptures, a flaming black pointed hat, a bright silver breastplate engraved with sacred prayers, a steel armor pressed on the cross sword at the waist, and two pistols neatly hung on both sides of the belt, Underneath the hood is a stubborn face, a middle-aged man who is still weathered but still energetic.
At the same time, he is also an adjudicator.
"Diago the Immortal, Diago the Eternal, Diago the First Blade of the Secret Guard... Or should I call you Black Dog Fan Haixin? Or Shadow Prince Fan Haixin?"
The judge coming out of the shadows looked at the indifferent secret guard with his gaze, and threw out a series of his identities.
Diago looked at each other and pressed his hand slowly on the sapphire handle of the thin blade around his waist.
"Princess Gried, here is the territory of the empire, you have crossed the line."
"A devout and kind believer is being persecuted, and no behavior can be called beyond boundaries."
Hearing this sentence, Diego gave a contemptuous laugh.
"Kindness? Thousands of soldiers died because of him, just because of the rebellion they set off."
"I have vowed to bring him back to his loved ones."
"not my business."
The inquisitor's gaze was scorching, and his tone was not compromised or shaken.
"Then we have reached a deadlock."
"It seems so."