The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 260 Ch.259 In the Cave

Tick.

The cave was dyed green by the juice, and drops of blood rolled down the stone platform in the middle of the lake into the dark lake surface.

Tick.

The pure white wings, untainted by dust, are like a long, soft silk robe wrapped in cold dust in winter. They are withered and broken and scattered around, as if an artist is taking off his clothes. The grayish-white mist is like a film frozen in this sacred cave.

“He is the master of controlled fire, the fountain of immortality that brings life after death, the guide of the path of glory…”

The blond man kneeling in the center of the curved stone platform bowed his head and silently recited some prayers that he did not understand at all but seemed to be "supposed" to be recited this way.

The prostrate followers do not prostrate themselves to him, to the winged beast that rests on his lap like a pet.

They bowed to the golden holiness that flowed from the beast's blood, and offered their faith to the heaven they saw after taking the amber treasure -

Bristol, after thousands of years, finally heard the deep sleep of the only true God who was sleeping in the world of time.

"The benefactor."

They chanted in unison.

"The Father of All."

They whispered.

"The only true God."

The torch it held flickered, illuminating the black chain on the arc platform and the rough iron ring that went all the way up to its neck.

It was like a docile pet with an eagle's head, gray wings, and sharp claws on its limbs. It gently rested its head on David Cromwell's legs and made a humming sound from time to time.

The priest stroked it gently.

Its head, its neck and its gorgeous wings that were as soft as silk and as if woven of gold and silver threads.

It curled up its knees, crouching like a cat, its ears white with star spots shining on them - it was restless, its amber eyes moving around, occasionally raising its head and staring at the man caressing it in the firelight and prayer.

Its owner.

David Cromwell.

"It's about time, isn't it? My gift..."

There is no greed in the eyes of men, and you will not find greed in the eyes of the pious.

The humanoid beast let out a short roar.

It means recognition.

"They are important, aren't they, a gift from the Father..."

There was a cunning flash in the beast's eyes and he shook his head slightly.

But the next moment, its neck was tightened by the iron chain!

Tighten it tightly.

It began to struggle like a captured bird, its screams no match for the steady, repetitive rhythm of the prayer.

The thick feathers as long as fingers were torn off during the struggle, accompanied by blood and painful wails.

David Cromwell just held the black chain-shaped wonder expressionlessly, watching the summoned creature under him, which represented the highest holiness of the Holy Cross, struggling, resisting, suffering, and begging for mercy like the most vulgar prostitute encountering the rudest guest.

It could no more hurt the owner of the chains than it could avoid telling him all the questions he had in mind.

"You want the Devinsom, or Krattorfer, or Collins?"

the man asked.

He pulled the beast up from the ground, held it up, and asked it questions repeatedly and carefully, looking at its shining ears and eyes that were shedding golden tears.

"Tell me who you want."

"Who do you want?"

The angel just stared at him silently, crying, and wrapped herself in her incomplete wings.

"As you requested, I have completed all the rituals - this great ritual that has been buried in history. I can't wait to welcome the Supreme Lord to the land where He should have come long ago..."

The beast opened its mouth and fixed its eyes on the half-dead body not far away.

And a woman's head.

"You're hungry. You're hungry again."

The man loosened the chain slightly, and the next moment, the monster flapped its wings, stirring up a hurricane powerful enough to blind people, and stabbed at the corpse that was broken at the waist like a sharp sword!
In front of the believers who lowered their eyes and chanted, the most holy summoned creature of the Holy Cross gnawed at the flesh and blood like a dirty wild dog on the side of the road.

Carlotta's flesh and blood.

And head.

"It seems you like the flesh on your face more."

David Cromwell, holding the chain, paced around the chewing monster like one of those London ladies who fiddle with their pets: This monster is a gift.

It is his key to greatness.

It is the first step to the Kingdom of God on earth.

It's all his ideals.

He opened his other hand, feeling the tight, dense and resilient mystery coming from the whole city - this was not his power, but a ritual, an ancient ritual provided to him by this monster.

"You are the throat that Father God gave me to tell those pagans the truth about the world."

He knelt on one knee and lovingly stroked the beast with blood on its face.

at this time.

The cave was filled with the sound of violent and continuous gunfire. The explosion of gunpowder scared the creature that was feasting on the food. It subconsciously spread its wings and tried to leave, but as the chains tightened, it immediately let out a painful wail.

"Don't worry, the person you're waiting for is here."

David Cromwell had no idea why all this had to start today - he received the ritual from the "body" of the 'gift', was inspired by its "wings" to gain wisdom, and received its tears to climb upwards.

A routine cleaning, a creaking, dying plank, a dangerous fall.

He discovered the monster sleeping there.

I also discovered the real world under the church——

A cave that was dug and built by someone at an unknown time.

Perhaps the ritual that imprisoned it had already exhausted its power, or perhaps he, David Cromwell, should have taken on the responsibility of changing history this time, just like Saint Delis:

In a panic, he used the strange object he carried with him to control this strange angel.

A chain originally used to control lower creatures, his only rare item.

This is the choice of the Father of All.

later.

He began to gain knowledge from its skin, draw strength from its wings, drink its tears, and gain the qualifications to burn.

He was not greedy, nor did he think that he could open the door to immortality with this strange "summoned creature" that had been sealed for who knows how many years.

He would have liked to report it to the Church, to the Council of Truth.

however.

One day, he found several distorted characters similar to the one on it that suddenly appeared in the library.

As time goes on.

More and more characters emerged.

More and more detailed.

"Ritual: Collapse".

This is the choice of the Father of All, isn't it?

He will definitely decide his fate, and he will personally open up the true holy world.

"Eliminate all pagans, and mankind will forever be bathed in the glory of the Benefactor - we will no longer have deception, pain, or sorrow. Stay away from evil thoughts and be compassionate."

To this end, David Cromwell spent a long time winning over the temporary leader of the Maelstrom, using the sect's loose yet united nature to squeeze out other pagans in Bristol.

until today.

Carlotta was completely useless.

"But why today?"

The man couldn't help but question himself as he listened to the gunshots getting closer and closer above his head.

He could not understand its language, nor could he determine the limits of its power.

He has too many problems.

such as.

How did this 'angel' that can exist forever, unlike ordinary summoned creatures, come about?

Why can it appear at night?
Who sealed it in the cave under the church?
Who is the owner of the cave?
such as.

It had hovered over Bristol a few days earlier, in agony, wearing those virtually invisible chains.

For several nights in a row.

it…

What are you waiting for?
What is it roaring about?
What does it want?
"You want the blood of the Holy Flame, don't you?"

At this moment, David Cromwell thought he had found the answer.

"'Collapse' requires the blood and souls of the Path of the 'Holy Flame'."

"You have to attract people, for their blood and souls - Bristol doesn't have a strong "Holy Flame"... Fiennes can't do it."

"You want him, you want that Fernandez de Winson."

"This is the final step, right?"

The angel bared his sharp teeth, biting the white bones in his mouth, and a gurgling sound came from his throat.

It nodded slowly, and after filling its stomach, it carefully bypassed the chain that was causing it pain, and crawled at the man's feet again.

She even rubbed her face against his trouser legs in a flattering manner.

bang——

A beam of light penetrates the darkness.

Top down.

Accompanied by the sound of falling into water.

The burst of gunfire blew off the head of a believer.

"Welcome, Mr. De Winson."

David tugged at the chain and stepped forward with a smile.

(End of this chapter)