Crown of Silence

Chapter 424 May the Lord Have Mercy

Late at night, Avalon.

Privy Council, under the pale light.

Lancelot took a deep breath and pushed the iron box in front of him.

In the iron box, the 'monster' swallows the light, tears apart the darkness, and reflects the vicissitudes of life and the cold and sharp edge of steel. From the moment it appeared in the air, breathing turned into pain.

The sharp edge filled the air, turning it into an iron needle, stinging the heart. It can be vaguely seen that there is a detailed and ancient music engraved on its blade, but the music is covered with dried blood and becomes blurry and dim.

It is so quiet when it is not feeding on blood.

The silence was eerie.

Lancelot stretched out his hand, picked it up, and stroked its broken gun body and the seemingly blunt blade. It was as if he could hear the dragon's heavy breathing in his ears, and unconsciously seeped blood on his back. Break into a cold sweat,

"Dragon Slayer, Fallen Iron, Purifying Spear... it is indeed it."

Lancelot carefully put the murder weapon back into the iron box, took a long breath, and sighed softly:

"—The Gun of St. George."

"The chart given to us by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith is correct."

'Tristan' sat opposite him with his armor still on. The dust from the journey had not yet been washed away. His eyes were tired, his hair was disheveled, and there were still cracks in his armor. It was impossible to identify him as the deputy commander of the Knights of the Round Table. Majestic and dignified.

He stared at the spear in the iron box, and his eyes became awed: "We found it from the ruins, but unfortunately, the sacrifice was heavy."

"Didn't anyone else come back?"

Tristan was silent for a long time and shook his head: "They are all dead."

Lancelot was silent for a long time, then reached out to pick up the cigar box on the table, but hesitated and put it down again.

"Tell me, Tristan."

He coughed, his voice hoarse, "What happened along the way?"

"We prepared the best ship, and in just six days, we experienced groundings, reefs, and sea monsters that were born as Leviathan awakened. By the time we got there, six people had been sacrificed.

Then, we finally entered the dead city, opened the molten iron cellar, and witnessed the true face of Guixu. "

Tristan paused for a moment, pain flashed in his eyes: "The Well of Return is a realm that humans should not pry into, Lancelot, this is not a lie on paper.

I originally wanted to go down in person, but Malok stopped me.

He jumped in there with Gaheris and Geraint, and we waited outside for three days. Only Geraint climbed out from there...

When he climbed out of the well, the ether that had been consumed all over his body was ignited, and half of his body was burned to ashes, like a devil.

On the way back, I often thought: I'm afraid he might have gone crazy down there.

He remembered to bring the gun back, but by the time he climbed up, he had forgotten who I was. In order to subdue him, sixteen Knights of the Round Table died.

He almost killed me with the gun of St. George..."

He lowered his head and pointed to the armor on his chest:

"—Only an inch."

Under the tragic gap in the armor, there was a bloody gap, and you could vaguely see the heart beating hard in the broken chest.

The heart was covered with fine gaps, as if bound by blood-colored threads. It was obviously flesh and blood, but it had a texture like iron and stone.

He murmured softly: "I was just a little bit away from being able to sit here anymore. I can only be glad that he didn't awaken the dragon soul in it..."

"..."

Lancelot was silent, and after a long time asked: "Is he still alive?"

"Live until the ship returns to Avalon."

Tristan sighed, "While he was alive, he kept holding this gun and did not allow others to approach or touch it. When he arrived in Avalon, he knew that his mission was about to end, so he died.

I'm afraid I've always been obsessed with it.

I can’t let go and want to go home. "

"The soul returns to its homeland...?"

Lancelot stared at the 'monster' in the iron box, his eyes becoming awed and complicated.

He closed the iron box and stopped looking.

Just close your eyes and pray softly.

"May the Lord have mercy on you."

——

The clock struck midnight.

Westminster Abbey Cemetery.

The tombkeeper opened the door and made his usual inspection, walking among the stone monuments.

But when he passed through the atrium, his footsteps stopped suddenly. In the swaying wind lantern, the cold sea breeze blew from the distance, and he had a vague foreboding feeling all over his body.

Click, click, click...

Dim lights illuminated the silent building not far away.

There is the bell tower where the bodies of heroes rest before being buried. Yesterday evening, a coffin was rushed here to await the grand state funeral.

But in the silence, there was a faint and distant knocking sound coming from inside, like the dead knocking on the door from the underworld.

The sound sounded according to a certain rhythm, matching the beating of the heart, and echoed in the ears.

"Look over here..."

It was like a voice whispering softly: "Look over here and listen to this voice..."

The knocking sound seemed to have a strange magic power. The tombkeeper stared at that place blankly, his eyes gradually becoming hollow.

The energy disappeared.

"Come...come here."

Under the guidance of the voice in his heart, he walked forward sluggishly, stepping into the darkness step by step.

The door slowly opened, and the door hinges rubbed against each other, making a sharp and piercing sound.

The moonlight flowed into the back of the door with his movements, illuminating the cold holy image hanging on the wall. The holy image looked down at the world, with cold eyes, like thunder and lightning.

And just under the holy image, there was nothing in the empty room except a coffin.

The knocking sound came from the coffin.

It was like the dead in the coffin raised their knuckles and knocked on the "door panel" above their heads, waiting for the door to open in the underworld:

"Come on! Come here! Open it... pursue the meaning of your life..."

Under the temptation of that voice, the gravekeeper walked forward dully, pulled out a dagger, and pried up the long nails on the coffin one by one.

The long nails fell to the ground, with a crisp sound, like the joints of a demon rubbing and stretching.

When the last iron nail fell to the ground, a sigh came from the void. The gravekeeper's eyes were empty, and his hands pushed the coffin lid hard to release the demon inside.

Bang!

The coffin lid fell to the ground with a dull sound, and fell apart on the ground.

The smell of flowers and rot came from the darkness.

Under the moonlight, the dead Knight of the Round Table in the coffin opened his eyes, slowly stood up, and cast a huge and hideous shadow on the ground.

Three heads and hundreds of arms, hideous body.

Like a bird, like a beast, like a human, the hundred arms held knives, axes, bones, water bottles and lightning...

In just a moment, the hideous shadow dissipated, leaving no trace.

It finally walked out of the cage that had imprisoned it for a long time, returned from the land of the dead, and came to this world again.

At that moment, the birds of Avalon were startled from the branches, cried out in fear, and fell to the ground and died.

The monster in human skin stood under the moonlight, its sight seemed to be looking far away, towards the sacred city made of steel.

Then, it showed a mocking smile.

"I... am here."

——

Far overseas, Guixu.

Under the silver vortex of burning ether, there was endless darkness.

In the deepest part, there was an iron coffin, a broken iron coffin.

The broken fragments still had hideous cracks, as if something had escaped from the box.

And around the iron coffin, there were three dried corpses.

They were killed in an instant, but the dead bodies knelt on the ground, as if they wanted to pray for the evil they had committed.

May the Lord have mercy...