Chapter 976: Final Yan Altar (3)

At this moment, he has waited a whole life.
The chain of fate was tightly twisted together at this precious time, and his existence continued for this moment.
From the heavy labor that killed his mother, to the serious accident that took away his father, to the gate that passed the orphanage, where he was raised to the age of enough to work in the mine, the tide of luck has been ruthlessly He pushed to my destiny.
Today will be the day when he is homologous to God.
This is not a lazy self bragging, nor a crazy exaggeration.
When he was a child, he knew that he was destined for greatness, which can be seen from his always running faster than his grandmother in an orphanage, and always bigger and stronger than children of the same age.
It can be seen from those indifferent people who put his parents in the cold soil without a drop of tears, and from the time he was nine years old when he did away with himself as a major competitor of the games.
Even the way he handled the body—throwing the body into the well to make this look like an accident, also heralded his greatness.
And when the light of the gods was spread in the town where he was born, his greatness was finally recognized.
The flames like rainstorms emerged from the mist with thousands of cultists, beasts, and even more powerful followers of the blood god.
The village and the farm fell under their fierce attack, and the brutality they created caused his blood to boil.
They peeled off the skin of the victims to make flags, and decorated their altars with half-dead prisoners of war.
After the remote village was razed to the ground, they turned their attention to the town. He knew that he had to do something to welcome his new owner and celebrate his promotion to their ranks.
So he started serious activities.
When the first leader opened the orphanage's unlocked door, his gift was ready.
He, Varnacus, sat on the corpse of 117 people who were slaughtered in the name of the blood god.
He waited to greet them.
A deputy of the new owner, a strong barbarian who embeds a hook into his flesh as a decoration, felt very angry.
Because this humble species robbed them of their rewards-the pure and clean souls that can be used to sacrifice to their masters, or the labor that can be transformed into bases.
So he aimed his weapon at this thin young man and wanted to use his life as compensation.
But his new owner knew the young man's potential, and after seeing it all, he pierced the deputy with his huge hooked saber.
When his broken halves fell to the ground in a mess, Varnacus smiled, as did his master and the rest of them, and reveled for more bloodshed.
The body of this deputy was chopped clean by the "former" comrades, and the axe was given to him by the master.
Although this weapon is brutal and cruel, it is still a much more efficient killing tool than the orphans and the mother's cleaver that Varnacus used to kill together.
Under the sweep of the marauder, his head count will increase greatly in the following days.
When the predatory operation finally ended, Varnacus was brought back to the hidden base, where they can be avoided from the dog legs of the Kaimon Church and various bounty hunters.
After the external attacks were stopped, the leaders began to kill each other to satisfy the unsolved desire for war.
Over time, in order to attract higher-level attention, frequent battles broke out among former cult allies.
Their ranks expanded rapidly after the war, because the heads of the three cults were killed by his new master, and their men were organized into new tribes.
At that time, the tribe where Varnakus was stationed was entrusted to a notoriously elected leader and boarded the ferry to the New California Republic.
Day after day, month after month, year after year.
From one battlefield to another battlefield, in a strange land, he killed in the name of the Lord.
The more he respected the dark master, the higher he knew his status in the eyes of God.
And the changes imposed on his flesh and blood began to be subtle, and the back became more and more intense.
His face became more like a beast, and more in line with the power of destruction.
The gap between battles became like torture, his only purpose-to kill in the name of the blood god, he had embarked on a path that he could not deviate from.
Like other devotees, he suffered like anoxia during the battle.
The New California Republic was also aware of their actions, and large-scale siege began. The senior veterans who landed first suffered heavy losses, and they had to sleep.
But for the believers of the Snow God, the war will not stop, so the melee broke out among them.
A group of like-minded people gathered around Varnacus to form a new faction.
A denomination they had previously collected regarded killing as an art, something that represented beauty and creativity, and they found Varnacus very attractive.
After they joined, Varnacus's strength in the gang increased greatly, and as a master of his master, he also invested himself in a more enthusiastic slaughter.
They are killing like crazy like tomorrow, which is glorious, so glorious that they get the attention of a new owner.
The blasphemer, Molière.
But Moras was not keen on the predatory operation. He made it clear that he had something else to do.
Factions who want to continue to plunder can find their own way, and those who want to fight under him will not refuse.
The corpse-killer has a terrible reputation as a murderous butcher. He always looks forward to the next killing, which has moved Varnacus.
Unfortunately, his former owner didn't think so.
So when his body slid off the Varnacus axe, his eyes stared at his former capable officer in frustration.
"We were doomed to be great, Varnacus."
This was the last sentence he burst out of the blood-stained teeth, and he was already dead when the other party answered.
"And I still bear this destiny."
Varnacus firmly believes this~EbookFREE.me~until...
"Waaaaaaaaaagh!!!"
The special warriors rushed into the corridor, and Ur's roar echoed in the air.
The two guards were wiped out before they could see clearly the enemy's face. They slammed into the gate without hesitation, and the steel double-open door naturally could not withstand the double impact of two strong Oaks, and instantly fell to the ground.
"Just kill the gun!"
Hagrid screamed and rushed in. He directly raised the gun and began to fire.
Behind him, the Special Warfare boys shot and drove in, appearing methodical.
But Ur frowned.
He couldn't think of it. It was a huge underground space behind the gate, where there were columns of cast-in bones, eight huge brass utensils were placed on the ground, and inside was boiling blood-these utensils were huge enough Let them take a dip in them.
In the middle, there is a huge blood pool, where a large number of pale dead bodies are stacked in the middle of the blood pool, forming a twisted island, and some inhuman and inhuman guys are standing on the island.
When Koresh saw all this, his eyes glared out.
He knew it was big.
This is by no means an ordinary altar, at least at the level of the altar, and according to his knowledge of blood worship, every guardian of the altar is not a small role...
Varnacus stood on the isolated island where the corpses piled up, pulling the hair of a dying woman with one hand, he had just cut her throat.
When the bullet flew past him, he didn't blink, until he found Koresh.
"Very well, it's surprising how the hybrids of the Church of Wendigo have begun to work with Oak."
The roar of the altar guard was full of disgust, surprise and disappointment.