Demon Sage

At the entrance of the alleyway, Donald grinned, it was still raining and dark clouds were deposited, but this didn't affect his mood.

The bet is won!

Don't look at the previous things as if everything went smoothly, it is based on the premise that all the processes are just right.

For example, when he first got into the car, if Donald had not thought about it in advance, throwing out his identity as a demon contractor, hesitating a little, and saying a begging for mercy or other words, he basically had to go in vertically, sideways come out.

Ogoff would not have any pity for Donald Grant, who is an ordinary man, even if he knelt down and wept bitterly.

Turn danger into safety.

Not only did it successfully make the cult give up its silence on itself in the short term, but it also turned them into a special transaction transfer station.

"The talent potion and the matching ritual array... Is this the real key to the heretics? Could it be that some of the materials that appeared in the text Sherlock asked me to translate are some of the materials in the talent potion?"

Talent can be obtained through the cooperation of potions and ritual formations. This is the key understanding of the trip to the cult stronghold, but what is the nature of this talent itself?

Why can demon knowledge answer those words? Could it be that the so-called lost slate is actually something left by demons?

It seems that I will try my best to cover up the fact that I can translate the text... Otherwise, it is likely to attract sanctions from the church. After all, anything about demons is an object that must be cleaned up in their eyes.

With the ups and downs in just one week, Donald is growing at an alarming rate.

Thinking is the key to human progress.

But one thing he may not have thought of, if all the demons or gods can translate those words, how could the cult leave behind lost slate and rubbing documents?

Human talents have different aspects, and demons also have their own specialties.

It can only be said that Donald Grant was lucky...

**

Once again, he came to the study in his mind. This time, Donald walked to the desk with ease. Of course, the clock meditation method can be used to meditate while awake, but the effect is far from being fully conscious.

Concentrating on drawing the clock pattern on the desktop, watching the blue light flowing from the tip of the pen seep into the paper, the mind becomes more and more comfortable, this is another function of the clock meditation method, in the process of meditation, the practitioner's spirit will gain Get plenty of rest.

It can be compared to a spiritual spa bath.

Donald likes this feeling, abandons all his troubles, and just quietly feels the growth of his spiritual power.

However, from a certain moment, a voice that should not have existed began to appear in the ear.

Xixing Susuo~ Xixing Susuo~

It was as if someone was whispering indiscriminately. The voice was very soft but penetrating. The focused Donald was awakened, unable to concentrate, and the pen in his hand stopped immediately.

He didn't leave his spiritual space, there was an inexplicable force driving him to find the source of the sound, so he stood up and started wandering in the study.

Looking for something that I don't know why I have confirmed its existence, and something that should be out of place here.

There was gray fog rolling under his feet. It was obviously just fog, but Donald felt a coldness. The voice in his ear was still lingering. He stopped in front of a bookcase, and the voice seemed to come from above.

"Iris Street Map..."The Enemy of Religion", "Expel the Evil", these are the materials I have read?"

The books on the tall bookcase seem to be full of rows, but more of them are just like blank notebooks. There is no label on the spine, and there is nothing in it when you pull it out. There are no books that can really read the text on the spine. How many.

I took out the book "Exorcism of Evil" that I had read before. The cover was exactly the same as the one I hid in the drawer of my desk, but when I opened the first page, the content was missing. The whole text was only about one-third of it. One is still up there.

This is a book that appeared according to his memory. In other words, what is recorded in this book is his memory.

Then where did this strange sound come from?

It was not surprising that he successively took out all the books marked with the spine position, but the small whispers in his ears never stopped.

His gaze moved up from the area in front of him, over several layers of gray shelves, and on the bookshelf more than three meters above the ground, he saw strands of gray mist escaping from the inside. source.

How should I go up? This height is not something that can be grasped by its own bouncing force.

Since it was his own spiritual world, it was very simple. Donald imagined that there was a small lift platform under his feet. He closed his eyes and stretched out his hand. The next second, he touched a small rocker, and when he pulled it back, his body rose.

It didn't stop until the right place. The books in this row were all without content numbers. Donald didn't understand why the gray fog appeared.

Simply pull out these books one by one from left to right, and wait until you reach the book with the wine red cover in the middle. A piece of paper folded in half is close to the back of another book in the air. The centerpiece keeps emerging.

The two sides of the paper he was holding were slowly spread out. Donald had an impression of it. It was the open page in the notebook beside him when he woke up in the sewer.

The smeared sacrificial circle, UU reading www.uukanshu.com is exactly the same, the gray fog and sound are all coming from it.

Stab it!

Donald tore the piece of paper without hesitation, he sensed the ominousness and darkness on it.

The sound stopped, and the flow of gray fog seemed to be stagnant. Donald breathed a sigh of relief and finally stopped.

"Do you think this is the end?"

"Who!"

With the sudden sound, Donald turned his head to look at the desk, and there was another one of him, just the one who appeared in the mirror the night he just came out of the sewer.

Dark and evil.

"Do you think this is the end?"

Repeated words, this time, he stared at Donald, held the pen in his hand, and slanted it towards him. Black ink flowed out from the tip and did not dissipate, but stayed in the area opposite the desk.

Diffusion, condensation, and finally formed a dark desk, and even the entire wall behind it began to be dyed dark. Donald's eyes turned to the bookshelf over there, whether there were words or not. , The shape has all mutated, the color has changed from brown, wine red to black, dark green!

This is pollution... from the power of the devil!

"Donald Grant? A soul from another world...it's not over yet!"

The other one was sitting on a metal chair burning with dark green flames at some point in time, with two white bone lanterns beside him, with faint blue light flashing at the top, holding a large and dark ancient book in his hand. of silence.

Under his feet, the black and brown floors collided and smashed in the middle of the room, invading Donald's spiritual world.

No... in this spiritual world, it's hard to say whose it is!