Mystery: Those years when I was a foreign aid for the Aurora Club

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"Damn, what did you do!"

"Nothing... just want to know the answer to a question. Want me to help you out of the sun?"

"unnecessary!
"

……

"Memories of Disaster" continues.

In the "Banquet of Betrayal", 99% of the population of the Eastern Continent died during the Great War and when the sun fell, and the continent fell into silence, with millions of deaths. The largest collective death event found in the

It was not a war caused by the division of interests, nor was it a massacre to exclude a certain race. The reason for this death was extremely just and fair—to kill the recovered original spirit and give birth to a personality of the ancient sun god. The normal "God" of the Lord.

Ended with failure.

After the death of the ancient sun god, the three newborn gods and other gods went to the north and south continents to declare that the sun has fallen, and that future humans must believe in them in order to be saved.

The Great War took place on the coast of the Eastern Continent, forming the "Ruins of God's Battle" that wrapped the entire coastal area of ​​the Eastern Continent, completely cutting off communication between the continents.

The king of decay witnessed the whole process, and collected the "possibility" that all disconnected in an instant under the intervention of the gods, as a record of disaster.

"I have a question, and I want to get an answer from the gods of the earth."

"Adam can't answer, the seven gods won't answer, you are the only earth god I can contact."

The real creator who has lost her extraordinary ability in the illusion will not notice that there is actually a person behind her all the time, but when she turns around, the person behind her also turns around, and when she dies, the person behind her is watching from a distance, forever In the blind spot of vision.

A simple and simple book is held in the human hand, and every time the real creator dies, the pages are turned.

In the book, the lives and deaths of millions of people are gently flipped through.

Their living experiences are similar: "Pious believers of the Creator", "believers of the eight kings of angels", "peaceful, kind, living a normal life in a certain town in the Eastern Continent", "businessmen, farmers, craftsmen, Housewives, students, teachers, vagabonds"...

There was only one reason for their death: "The Feast of Betrayal".

The earth in the distance has cracked, there is no sun in the sky, and the blood-red moon has risen early, but the light cannot penetrate the blockade of shadows.The flickering thunder and lightning can only illuminate the world for a moment, but countless monsters rush out from the darkness, plundering the flesh and blood of the living.

The vegetation in the farm is withered, and under the influence of the occasional leak of red light, the remaining crops, flowers and plants have become some kind of closely intertwined and twitching living things. They push open the roof and grow around the meteorite, making the corpse and the living one alike. One picked up, sucked dry into thin human skin.

This time the real creator didn't die immediately, she lasted a little longer than before.

She was trapped in the burning house. The flames prevented the deformed plants from approaching, and she had nowhere to escape. She could only hide in the small stone house, feeling the hot air gradually pouring into her nose and mouth, and every time she took a breath, she felt Like swallowing a fireball.The ventilation in the house is not good, even the scalding air is precious, but she can't hold it anymore, enduring the pain of skin burns, and gradually loses consciousness in the high temperature and lack of oxygen, feeling like a piece of eucalyptus The meat is cooked little by little in this small room.

The True Creator watched the flames climb up his legs and arms without feeling any pain.

There is only endless despair.

The true Creator sighed, closed his eyes, and ended this dying struggle.

"It probably hurts."

Grassland, the land abandoned by gods.Towns, ruins.

Joy, pain, smiles, prayers, despair.Red, black, and white are constantly transforming into each other, and the last thing left in the field of vision is the destroyed everything and the land of flames, monsters rushing out from all directions, the sun disappears, shadows and blood color occupy the sky...

The silence after death was elongated, and the true Creator was lying on the ground with his eyes closed:

"They should hate me."

The voice of the Outer God floated over with the book: "They don't hate you."

The pages of the book clattered: "Those who die in an instant have no chance to hate you. Those who live a little longer will pray for your salvation and repent of their sins. In short, no one will scold you at that time."

"That's because they died too fast, and they will definitely scold me when they recover." The real creator said in a hoarse voice, the high-heat air hurt his throat, "Didn't you say that there might be a god in Klein's hand?" A person from Abandoned Land? He must have recovered and planned to convert."

Now that divinity has been suppressed to the lowest level, the language style of the True Creator has become very colloquial. While speaking, the world lights up again. The True Creator appears in a mill, and the windmill outside is slowly turning.

There are still piles of wheat that have not been ground into flour, but it doesn't matter anymore. The real creator picked up the hammer and shovel from the corner, one in each hand, and was ready to fight the monster directly.

The Declining King skips over the swearing argument: "Adam gave me an interesting point, necessary sacrifice."

"Considering that Adam is part of your divinity, I decided to ask you what you think about 'necessary sacrifice'."

"So you let me experience so many memories of people who died at that time?"

The earth shook and the disaster began. The real creator rushed out with a hammer and a shovel. Seeing that the wild dogs on the street had a tendency to mutate, she slapped down the wild dogs on the spot with a shovel, turning the wild dogs into wriggling flesh and blood everywhere. splash.

"Empathy may give you a better answer."

The True Creator stepped on the shovel forcefully, and the squirming flesh was squeezed out like a sponge with a large amount of turbid blood, and soon stopped moving.After solving this hidden danger, the True Creator suddenly felt a gust of cold wind hit the back of her neck. Without hesitation, she swung the hammer hard behind her, smashing the head of the mutated monster behind her.

"If you ask me—my past me, I can only say that I don't regret it."

The real creator used two hammers to completely smash the head and brain of the fish monster that was probably an elf into mud, and he was also splashed with blood all over his head and face.She wiped the blood off her face with her sleeve, allowing her eyes to open smoothly.

Losing her extraordinary strength and dying so many times aroused a bit of resentment and resentment in the heart of the real creator. Compared to waiting for death with peace of mind, she was willing to come out and fight for a while—even though she knew that these things were over. The tragedies that have lasted for thousands of years have been covered up by layers of history and time, and even the true Creator himself almost forgot.

No, it's not that I forgot——but, I took it for granted.

Because I took it for granted, I was sent to the corner of my memory.

This time it was a little longer than the previous longest survival record, but the person in history is now dead, his upper body was crushed to death by a mutated wild dog. Outer God thought about it, but did not turn the page. Instead, they followed in the footsteps of the true Creator and followed behind her.

"I see, you don't regret it."

"Yeah... how can you regret it?"

In a world where she could die at any time, and she was almost indistinguishable from normal humans, her emotions were inevitably agitated.

"If I don't do this, I will die, and another person's will will replace me... If I don't do this, the world and the embryonic form of civilization I have worked so hard to build will be destroyed, and the aliens may unite again. They may break through the barrier, devour the source quality and Extraordinary characteristics, and then die quickly due to the collision of the paths... They can still regenerate, but I, my angels, my believers and my country will never come back!"

"How could I not? How could I regret it!"

"but……"

A house on the street exploded, huge beams collapsed, flying smoke and burning logs, and the real creator was caught off guard by a piece of wood and lost his balance.

At this moment, a strange bird with five eyes swooped down and pierced her throat with a sharp beak.

While screaming strangely, the strange bird tore half of her neck, trachea and throat, and pulled out its beak to peck at the flesh of its prey. Not long after, she coughed up blood and suffocated to death.

This memory is over, or should have been over long ago.

Just as the Decaying King was about to turn the page, the True Creator suddenly sat up, covered the wriggling crack in his throat, and hissed:
"Again!"

Outer God squinted at her: "I don't provide archive function."

"Just now is the best time I have ever felt, and I don't have many chances to find a weapon again." The cut on the neck of the real creator is still there, and her voice is a bit out of tune and leaking, "Don't you want to hear me finish? Leave Here, I would not have such a rich emotion."

The Declining King thought for a few seconds, then nodded reluctantly.

The surrounding environment lights up, and they are back in the mill near the windmill.

The True Creator took up her weapon again, and considering the exploded house, she also wanted to bring an old wooden plank from the room, but had to give up because of her limited load-bearing capacity.

"It's time for you to continue answering questions."

"question……"

After killing the wild dogs and killing the mutant elves according to the process of the first week, the real creator bypassed the house that exploded, and then said while recalling:
"I did it for the simple reason that I didn't want to become someone else, and I didn't want to destroy everything I had built."

"I am the only righteous god. If you don't become my subordinate god, then you are an evil god. Of course, my choice is absolutely correct."

"...But do I actually want to let so many people die? I definitely don't want to. If I don't care, then I am not me, and I am no different from the original."

The King of Decay quietly followed behind, watching the true Creator knock away the out-of-control Extraordinary, propped up a collapsed wall with a shovel, and found two crushed children underneath.

The two children were unwilling to come out, and the real creator had to prop up more walls, only to find out that the two children were being protected by their parents, and the parents had been crushed by the collapsed wall and died, bleeding It's still hot.

The movement of the real creator paused for a moment, and then she cruelly pulled the two children out of their parents' arms, grabbing the collars of the two children with one hand, and holding the hammer in the other.

"Where did I just say that? Well, I definitely didn't want to kill so many people, but I still did it, because for me at that time, the instinct of survival was above all else, and believers...as long as I live, believers There will be more and more, as long as I live, human beings will continue to live... So I ignored them, even, I felt that this was a helpless move, if I am not willing to sacrifice you, then I will die."

"If I die, it's all over."

Outer God recorded quietly.

"Actually, even if I do die, everything is not over."

"Even the pillar doesn't have to be me, isn't there a mystery?"

The real creator suddenly sneered: "The six gods divided up my faith, and they continued to live with human beings... Only the people who suffered because of me were left forever on the cursed and abandoned land. It was I who killed them." , I'm the one who thinks it's right."

"Isn't the Feast of Betrayal a great disaster?"

"Then they declared in the holy scriptures that the six gods protect mankind from disasters, and I have nothing to say."

On the burning street, the real Creator, covered in blood, dragged two crying children with a hammer in his hand, and limped towards the open space outside the city.

There was a carriage parked in the open space. The horse had been frightened to death by the huge disaster, and mutated monsters were eating its flesh.

The real creator cursed secretly, and the monsters were startled by the cries of the children, leaving the dead horse and rushing towards the fresh prey.

The child was taken from his hands, and the crying stopped abruptly.

She fought back, with the last of her strength, and even stabbed the cross that adorned her dress into the monster's eye, but to no avail.The monster tore open her throat and bit off the flesh on her shoulders, and the world in front of her eyes was plunged into darkness in severe pain.

"...come again!"

The Declining King was noncommittal: "Is there anything else to say?"

"I don't regret it, but I forgot one thing." The real creator fell to the ground on his back, and quickly adjusted his breathing.

"Since they died for me and for my purpose, I should not take their deaths for granted."

"I should be grateful to them and remember them..."

"...and forever bear the sins represented by this sacrifice."

The Declining King calmly finished recording her speech, and the book in his hand shone brightly: "Thank you for your answer, I can almost understand the difference between you and Adam, then let's continue."

At the beginning of the third round, they reappeared from the mill, picked up weapons and killed dogs and fish in one go. The real creator immediately ran to save the two children. This time their parents were not dead, but they were seriously injured. Inserted into the lungs, life will not last long.

"God...Father..."

The young couple who hadn't died yet pushed the dying child out of their hands, and pushed it to the hands of the real Creator.Because the real creator wears a cross on his body, he is taken for granted as the master's monk.

"Save... child... child..."

The mother, who was less injured due to her short stature, had blood bubbles in her mouth, while the father, who was holding his last breath, died with his eyes closed after seeing that the child still had a glimmer of life.

The True Creator didn't dare to delay, and immediately dragged the two children out.

Seeing that the children were safe for the time being, the mother smiled and cheered up to thank the true Creator:
"Grateful...thank you...praise...beautiful...praise the Lord..."

The real creator clicked his tongue, feeling that the blood on the other party's face was too red, she left the collapsed wall with the crying children without saying a word, and walked towards the open space on the outskirts of the city from another direction.

Along the way, they encountered other living people.

"Go forward," she said, "Go forward! No one will come to rescue you. If you still have strength, you must leave here!"

Some people have irreversibly mutated, but their minds are still normal, begging others to give themselves a treat in pain, some people have damaged limbs, unable to maintain balance, dragging blood all over their bodies, waiting to die in the corner, holding hands. Holding a wooden cross, some people are injured and can’t walk fast, begging the true Creator who cannot protect themselves to take them, or take their family and children, the eyes are brightened in an instant after being promised, as if hope and life have been obtained continue.

"Stop praising the Creator..."

There are more and more living people gathered around, and the layers of prayers in the ear make the true Creator clenched his fists.

Your Lord will not save you.

Your Lord has made you a sacrifice!

Sacrifice—in the original meaning, it just refers to sacrifices such as cattle, sheep and pigs.

Sacrifice is meant to die, just as humans are anchors and domestic animals in the eyes of the gods, isn't it natural to kill them?

That's possession, that's the anchor, so it's normal to feel heartache, anger, and pity.

But why feel uneasy, why suffer because of it, why feel the same feelings as the sacrifices, why lower your body, lower your head, be at the same height as the livestock, and feel the despair and sadness when they are sacrificed?
"in this world……"

"People of the Eastern Continent, you are the only ones who are qualified to betray the Creator and even curse her."

These can all be reasons: doomsday, righteousness, the life of the creator, the continuation of human beings, civilization, pillars...

No matter what the reason is, we must face the reality: these millions of people were sacrificed for real!

In the memory of the dead, the blood of innocent people gathers together to create waves, sins and unwillingness flow in the sea of ​​blood on the earth, strange plants turn into reflections of fangs and claws under the reflection of the red moon and thunder, meteorites and flames burn Everything, fragments of people and buildings burned in the sea of ​​fire, countless people who had lived were abandoned, and the remains of civilization and the tragedy itself were hidden into the fragments of history together.

The record of calamity continues.

For the third time, the assembled small team was wiped out under a meteorite.

For the fourth time, one person in the team couldn't bear the pressure and turned into a monster.

The fifth time, the sixth time, the seventh time...

The real creator has begun to realize the advantages of Outer Gods. Apart from being mean and cunning, she is quiet enough to be a part of history and records. She doesn't like to comment, is good at encouraging and observing, and doesn't feel that her behavior now It was a waste of effort.

Until No.12 times.

This small team of nine people really escaped from the burning town under the leadership of the real creator.

The sky will no longer light up, the wilderness is empty, and evil is flowing in the shadows. The real creator used a wooden stick as a support to walk for a long time, but finally lost his strength and fell on the stone on the side of the road.

Others came to help, but she waved her hand.

"You don't need to save me, I can only go here."

She warned: "There are monsters hidden in the dark, don't let the torch go out, don't go where there is no light."

Everyone looked at me, I looked at you, and finally accepted the reality in silence. They took the stick from the hands of the real creator and left her a broken oil lamp that was about to burn out, and then surrounded her, silently Pray to the Creator for an easy farewell and funeral.

The real creator has a big head: "No need to pray..."

Everyone ignored it.In this world, praying for good people to go to heaven is the best wish people can think of.

The two children who were rescued first had stopped crying, holding the cross in their hands, and mournfully read:
"Merciful Lord, Almighty God, You are the God who was, is and is forever."

They solemnly delivered the cross to an older middle-aged man, as if they were passing on the hope of life.

Install the latest version. 】

"The Lord gave this day, and it has passed in a blink of an eye. Follow the Lord's command, and the night is coming again. We will get up early and sing the morning song to the Lord. Today, we will rest and play the hymn again."

"Continents and oceans, famous cities and remote villages, when the dawn comes, it will be another day. We worship the Lord and wait for the earth to turn from darkness to light."

The girl who lost a hand took the cross:
"I know your deeds, your love, your faith, your courage, your patience. I also know that you will do more good in the end than in the beginning."

"The Lord has given us suffering, trials, and darkness, and He has given us hope and the morning star."

The chanting of the blood-stained young man followed closely behind:

"Death will be no more, neither will mourning nor crying nor pain be anymore, for the former things have passed away."

"For our Father in heaven, the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours forever."

The complete process takes about an hour, but has now been simplified to less than 2 minutes.

Everyone bid her farewell in unison:

"Dust to the ground, and spirit to the One who gave it!"

"Everyone is mortal, and after death there is judgment."

"Righteous, ascend to heaven, and be with the morning star..."

A small wooden cross is thrust into the hands of the true creator, and an old white handkerchief is placed over her head as a veil for the dead.The real Creator silently listened to their farewell and blessings, and the broken oil lamp in her hand gave off a light the size of a grain of rice. She tilted her head and watched the escaped people holding torches as they walked into the depths of the darkness, farther and farther away. But always accompanied by fire and hope.

After a long silence, the oil lamp was extinguished.

"What did you rely on to reproduce these?"

The king of decay appeared from behind her like a shadow: "The big frame is the record of the disaster, and the details are your memory."

"Can you bring these events back to reality?"

Outer God was silent for a moment: "It can't be done now."

"It seems that this is the authority of your other path. Curse, blessing, memory, maybe..." the true creator sighed, "If your path is on the earth, it must be as popular as 'apprentice'."

"It's popular in the form of a sealed item." Outer God's reaction was flat.

"How long have you been holding me up just to ask me this question?"

"Your No. 3 team has just finished praying. Medici is fighting against the angel of the storm. It used up a restart. The night has no action. The Eternal Blazing Sun provided some long-range support for the storm. The situation is not bad."

The Declining King said: "Your morality and human nature are very interesting topics. I just want to get some more information for research. You can go now. ——Give you a gift."

She reached out and grabbed the air, throwing an object to the True Creator.

It was the wooden cross, with blood stains and pinched dents, as if there was still warmth on it.

The real creator took the wooden cross, put it in his pocket, stood up, patted the ashes, and looked at the outer god: "You still don't let me go?"

"That's a gift," said the King of Decay, "and this is the gift."

The book floating in her hand flipped to the last page, and the lives of thousands of people were wiped away.The past is gone, but the memory is always fresh, they have become them, they are frozen in the unknown history, the forgotten people are turned into records in the hands of the gods, and the turning over at this moment seems to contain extremely profound mystical meanings , as if their suffering had finally come to an end, and the dust of the black past had settled.

"God has passed among you, leaving blood and tears as a sacrifice."

She declared calmly and solemnly, on a new blank page, such a line of blood-oozing text slowly emerged.

The illusory scepter floated behind her, tapped lightly on the ground, and the surrounding environment transformed instantly with this spiritually shocking sound—as if the process of ink smudged was reversed, and the darkness was expelled in an instant. without a trace.

The true Creator stood in front of an altar, raised his head, and looked at the flames at the top, in which an inverted cross was burning.

"I give you this opportunity, how much you can get depends on yourself."

Bloody words kept appearing on the book in the hands of the decaying king, and then disappeared quickly after appearing for a short time.She handed the book, which was too heavy to pick up, to the real creator, and the moment the latter's fingers touched it, extraordinary power appeared again.

Blood slowly oozes from the book, and endless mourning and prayers rush into the mind of the real creator.

The Lord silently lifted up His sins.

And with this sin, he walked to the top of the altar as high as the mountain and as far away as the sky.

One step, one step, the steps are like the bones of various ethnic groups accumulated, walking up, will leave a bloody footprint.

As she walked up the steps, dark shadows swam up her body and cuffs like a swarm of living snakes, and spirituality and darkness from all directions crazily flocked to her side, surrendered at her feet, and turned into her clothes. The shadow lines on the robe, the extensions of her arms and fingers, her eyes and her ears.And God's footsteps never hesitated at all, and the flames and the reflection of the cross were reflected in the bloody eyes.

The rooftop was very close, and the book in his hand was getting heavier and heavier, blood dripping and staining half of his body red.The real creator bound it with his own hands with the chains of shadows, unwilling to abandon this responsibility again to escape reality.

So the spirits of Mohu gradually ran out of the book. They were elderly people, young teenagers, immature children, and strong adults. They pushed her with their hands, pushed her up a level and then One level of steps, I stay before ascending to the sky.

"O merciful Lord, Almighty God!"

The dead souls sang:
"Please don't forget us, your lost people and compatriots."

Living memory whispers:
"Please don't abandon us, take our souls with you."

The true Creator also responded with the words in the holy scriptures:

"The tabernacle of God will be among men. I will dwell with men, and they will be my people. I will be with you, the God of men."

Compared to all the crazy moments of all time, the real creator of this moment is more like a god than ever.

She has crossed the gap of madness, stepped through killing and blood, and carried sin and punishment, enough to look down on all living beings once again and ascend to the sky.She is the subject of the ceremony, the fallen and guilty god, and all long-cherished wishes are settled here.

When the last step was reached, the whole world fell silent, and the spirits were silent for it.

She walked towards the blazing flame of the altar, towards the silent black cross in the flame, the world gradually lost its light, and only a morning star shone in the sky above her head.

The true Creator turned his head and stared at the bones, blood and tears he had walked along the way.

She pushed away the hands of the spirits, opened her arms towards them, and fell backwards into the flames of the altar.

Her body turned into flame fuel in an instant, the shadow entangled with the fire and climbed up the inverted cross, and the chains and the silhouette of Mohu slowly took shape.

Snapped!
The book fell to the ground, the flames dried the blood, it opened spontaneously, and turned to the last page with a clatter, black words emerged on it:

"Lord God, O Almighty, your sacrifice is righteous and holy!

'

The souls waited eagerly. On the huge black inverted cross, a huge light wheel burned like a black sun, and golden light bloomed from the edge. Wherever the light went, endless shadows illuminated everything in the world.

The souls rejoiced and sang the hymn of redemption in unison:
"All to the Omnipotent One!"

"Holy!
"

tbc
------

Medici who fought with Pope Storm: I am super.

Gad II who fought with Medici: I am super.

*Obviously, this is a super two-in-one dual update.