Chapter 212:

Their mouths were foaming, and the slaves cried out for help in order to discover that the same thing could happen in every other room in the monastery.
The priest finally entered the monastery, and walked along the path between the cells that he had only briefly passed by. His brothers and sisters are in their final pain. The priest, the priestess, the deacon and the bishop are all lying where they have fallen, some of them are on the threshold, as if all they need is a breath of fresh air, others can only see through the outstretched limbs seen from the half-closed door To.
They have a lot in common, that is, a lot of blood died. As the Hell priest had planned when drawing the writ, it was convulsed from them. The death convulsions he was willing to perform on them were a cruel treatment of his own invention, which was only reasonable, because the laws of magic were working on the human body, which was impossible in nature. Once the writ reached the victim, they reconstructed their internal organs within a few seconds to turn their body into a blood-filled pitcher, dividing everything into two or up to three convulsions.
When he walked around in the cell, he only faced the surviving victim twice. For the first time there was someone under his coat. He bowed his head to meet a priestess, who had worked with him several times to collect souls. She is on her limbs, and blood is pouring from every pore in her body. He drew his robe from her weak grip and walked quickly over.
The second time, he heard someone calling out from the cell he passed by. There, he saw an overly fat brother with black glasses, leaning about a foot against the wall from his doorway. He had never liked it, nor had he liked it in reverse.
"This is your business," the clumsy pastor said from his cell.
"You were wrong," the priest from said.
"traitor!"
As he became more and more certain of his accusations, he was raising his voice, instead of shouting loudly to encourage him to move forward, the priest walked into the cell, ready to dispatch the accused prisoner with his hook and hand. As soon as he entered, the priest saw his execution order body lying on the ground. For some reason, maybe because his obese brother's body is very heavy, it has not yet affected him.
"...Murder..." said the fat man.
He didn't yell out loud this time, although he clearly hoped so, because his face suddenly became pale and his internal organs made a loud noise. Death is a few seconds away.
The priest withdrew from the ranks of his dying brother. When he did this, two things happened at the same time: a fat man stretched out his hand to grab the priest’s coat, and then he convulsed, his fat body exuded a rush of blood, hitting the priest’s with this force face. It stabbed his flesh.
The priest held the fat man's hand and pressed all his fingers with a fist to free himself from the restraints. Before he released himself, the second twitch was worse than the first. The contents were washed on the priest like tide water, and the dying fat brother slipped down the wall, his control over the murderer weakened, and his life finally disappeared. The priest turned his back to his brother, left the cell, and appeared in the turbulent hall, his bleeding state without any disguise.
He thought he hadn't seen enough. Not because the scenery overwhelmed him. In fact, he is proud of the success of his work. But this is only the first part of his plan. Everything went well, it was time to leave here to meet his Felixon. However, when the local prison priest saw the fortress doors, one of the doors was only slightly open, and he met, or rather, heard the third survivor.
"Stop, pastor," the voice faded.
He followed his orders, looked to the right, and saw the semi-recumbent abbot being pushed onto a two-wheeled cart with doctors from all directions attending. The large amount of blood pouring in front of the reptile chin and beautifully decorated robes exacerbated the abbot's weak figure. The blood still ran from the corner of his mouth and converged between the metal scales and the gem scales. More came when he spoke, but he didn't care. He survived the torture and caused his entire evil way to die, except for himself and the others standing in front of him.
He studied the priest, his golden eyes dotted with sapphire scales, he did not hide his thoughts. In the end, he said: "Are you immune to this disease that takes away Li Wei?"
"No," the priest said. "My belly is twisted. And I'm bleeding."
"Liar. Liar!" He pushed the waiter to the left and right to leave him, then walked off the device that brought him here, and came to the priest at an astonishing speed. "You did it! You murdered your order! I smell the blood on them!" The jewels shone in colors, rubies, sapphires and emeralds, completely covering the rotting body. "Plead guilty, pastor. Avoid the smell of burning flesh."
"This is no longer my order," said the Hell priest. "I'm just a citizen of Trench, come and pack my belongings."
"Guard! Arrest him! And summon investigators from:"
The priest's hand covered his throat and silenced his command. The priest lifted him up, which was not an easy task, because the jewels added to the weight of the abbot. The priest still lifted him, pressing him against one of the cell walls.
He scratched the abbot's ornaments with his free hands, dug out his fingers under the silverware and jewels that adorn his face, and tore them off. The abbot’s flesh was very soft and rotted underneath, just like soap had been left in hot water for too long. When the priest started to remove the carapace, it quickly fell off. In just a few seconds, he revealed half of the abbot's face. This is a poor sight, the meat hardly sticks to the bones.
However, the abbot has no fear. He took a breath in the shackles of the priest, and said, "It seems that Li Huai is united by a secret. You are not the only one who possesses magic. I am still alive because of the work I prepared years ago. You can kill now. But I promise I will put you with me."
When he announced the exemption, he stared at the Hell Priest, and the Hell Priest knew his promise was true. He could already feel the connection established by the abbot between them.
Hell priest said: "In addition to destroying you, I have a lot to do."
"The longer you spend, the closer the investigator is."
The priest stared into the eyes of the abbot. Finally, he threw the abbot to the ground.
"That's another day," the priest said, and then left.
The priest reached the edge of the forest and found Felixson waiting for him, his faithful dog.
"Is it done?" Felixon said.
"Yes," said the Hell priest, recalling a fresh noise from the fortress.
There is confusion around the gate, and some people argue that the gate should be left open to dignitaries or closed for civil affairs. This is the result of something he did not foresee.
The order has always retained its privileged status jealously. Anyone who violates the law or enters without a mandatory triple-signature permission document will be executed outside the gate. However, it is impossible to cover up the fortress and its secrets now. There are too many dead bodies and too much blood to clean up. Because the abbot is in a state of mental instability that is abandoned, there is no authority in the fortress.
As time goes by, several absent prisoners will survive, and then escape the massacre, and foreseeable internal fighting will begin. But now, there are only a few confused guards at the gate, and the dead inside, the people serving them, are undoubtedly a group of flies.
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