Blood of Mercury

Shira was only halfway through speaking when his eyes began to twist again. As if milk and blood were mixed and stirred, the violent nausea made Syrah's stomach twitch.

The frail, invisible boa constrictor slowly tightened his throat, and Sheila felt her breathing start to become difficult.

His eyes suddenly turned black, his scalp exploded, his blood vessels were beating desperately, and there was a sharp noise of metal friction in his ears.

"Give up? Give up. Hopeless. Can't change. Can't do anything..."

A voice that was exactly the same as his own, but more seductive, sounded in Shira's heart.

A pitch-black flame gradually burned in Xila's heart. The rustling of hatred whispered in his ears.

It was like a whisper of the devil, but more like the apocalypse that the prophets of Suze believed in.

In the dark, icy field of vision, Xila vaguely saw a dim yellow flame suspended in front of her eyes.

It was something far more holy and greater than Tyre. Even though Cyra could only see a vague silhouette, he could clearly realize that it was a great existence far more suitable for the title of "God" than Tyre.

In the frosty silence, a silent voice echoed in Sheila's ears, with overlapping echoes: "You should regain hope."

Just by feeling the existence of the silhouette, Xila could only tremble in fear, unable to respond at all.

His spirit suddenly began to slacken, and the great fear made his pupils shrink to the extreme in an instant, and the large beads of sweat seeped out from his forehead and shattered to the ground.

Before Shera could respond, the vague silhouette continued: "You know you should give up. You know what you're up to is not the right way! You know your twist—it's you, not the world!"

"...No. I never felt like I was wrong."

Sheila closed her eyes. Indifferent voice: "I was right. No doubt about it."

"What if your will is against the will of all men?"

"Then they must be all wrong."

Syrah replied loudly. Look directly at the twilight flames in front of you.

After a brief silence, a burst of almost ecstatic laughter erupted around him. The laughter ripped through Syrah's belly and pierced into his heart. A voice louder than the rumbling of thunder exclaimed: "—Well said! Come to me! Sheila!"

"Come to me - the righteous! The pure! The invincible! Come to me - you will be the leader!"

A louder and louder voice sounded behind Sheila. With the ecstasy of the giant, the dome began to collapse, the huge eyeballs were slowly pressed down from the outside world, the sky was bruised, and crimson bloodstains spread. The increasing pressure caused the ground to rumble, like cracks in all directions, with pus and blood being squeezed out of it. A huge pupil, so big that it almost caught the whole world into view, emerged from the sky, looking down at Shira from top to bottom. in that eyeball. Countless pure white snakes with yellow eyes flocked to Xila frantically, but their movements were blocked by the film outside the eyeballs. Their movements pulled the eyeballs almost deformed and trembled slightly.

Just being watched, Sheila felt her abilities begin to improve rapidly. A hunch that she was evolving into something great slowly emerged in Sheila's heart. He knew in his heart that it was an improvement in the essence of life, a blessing from the Creator—a faint yellow pattern appeared on his eyeballs, quickly dyeing the entire eye socket a dull yellow, and then began to spread to the whole body.

"—but I refuse."

With Xila's icy voice sounded. The dim yellow that spread all over his body instantly stiffened.

Sheila closed her eyes and completely obeyed her own instincts, shouting and scolding: "I am me—I am me! I am not the spokesperson for anyone, any god, or any existence. If I have to say it, I will be my own. Advocate. I am my own pastor!"

"Are you going to abandon your god? Are you going to abandon Tyre?"

"Then why—"

As Xila Nightmare opened his eyes, an invisible force pushed the yellowish magic lines on his body back quickly. As if turning back time, the faint yellow lines were squeezed back into Xila's eye sockets again.

The voice behind him wasn't furious. Not discouraged, not giving up. He just chuckled. There was a loud rumbling like thunder: "Interesting. Then, let me see. Shira. How far can you do—"

The second half of his sentence Sirah did not hear. After he slowly opened his eyes, the illusions around him disappeared instantly. He realized that he was in the dungeon again.

However, at this time, Xila's pupils were no longer clear blue, but a pure blue comparable to the purest emerald.

Only then did Xila realize that the illusion that was so long just now didn't even last a second in reality. But Xila's body was no longer as weak as before. A whole new power filled his soul.

But looking at the sinners who looked at him worriedly, Xila, who finally calmed down, was silent at this time.

...wait...what did I just say?

"I...what is..."

However, just as Shera was in self-confusion, the dungeon door opened again. The decadent warden came down at the door.

His hair was messy and greasy. His eyes were bloodshot, his fists were clenched, and his whole body was almost trembling.

"Look. Our great Lord Warden has come again."

Xila raised her head coldly and stared at the slightly hunched warden with holy blue pupils condescendingly.

He didn't even notice that his voice was mixed with all the arrogance of the past. It's not just him, all the prisoners are ignoring this by coincidence.

With Cyrah's docile personality, this would have never happened. UU reading www.uukanshu. com

But this time, the warden didn't lift his foot and kick Xila's stomach, and he didn't use opera-like melodious emphasis to say swear words to Xila that were more vulgar than any hillbilly, and he didn't dance in a demonstrative manner. The iron whip cursed Syrah and all the prisoners.

His eyes were tired and unfocused. It was as if the soul had been severely destroyed, losing all its strength.

He stood in front of Sheila's cell—or rather, the cage, staring straight at Sheila.

"Ah... you little thief, liar, heresy deserving of hell..."

He said in a hoarse voice full of unwillingness: "...You are free. You are released."

After a short silence, there was a tsunami of cheers from the dungeon.

As if they had saved a saint. The prisoners were moved to tears by this miracle, knelt on the ground and shouted the holy name of Tyre and praised him loudly.

But no one noticed, only Sheila didn't make a sound. (To be continued.)