Who says knights can't backstab

Chapter 652 The Bishop's Death and Appointment

Stanley Clemens lay limp on the ground in an extremely ugly position—hips pouted, face on the ground, as ugly as it could be.

Cyril held a broken stick and pinched his sea nerves, and looked at Clauris Benjamin. Seeing that the other party had no objection, he quickly walked to his side.

The facial features of that face were overflowing with blood, the old cheeks were sunken, and it seemed that it would not be long before it would die by itself.

"Those who blaspheme... believers..."

Those completely absent-minded eyes turned white, and when Cyril squatted down, he was still muttering.The right arm that was slumped on the ground struggled, as if it wanted to lift it up to grab Cyril's arm, but it couldn't even lift it up.

He no longer has any fluctuations in magic power—maybe it was because of the sanction that Clauris Benjamin had just brought, or maybe it was because of the collapse of his own beliefs.

All in all, the bishop of the once-famous Harbor Temple in front of him was no better than a dying old man.

Cyril stood up, and he looked at Cloris Benjamin again, and saw that the latter was closing his eyes and bowing his head, holding the coral figure on his chest with both hands, and the faint golden light was gradually blending into her body, as if something was happening A pivotal moment in the ceremony.

So he set his eyes on Stanley Clemens again.

Then he raised the broken stick in his hand, and without the slightest hesitation, he lowered it forcefully, pouring it precisely from the back of Stanley's heart.

The old man didn't even groan, and let the broken stick that he regarded as a treasure go through his heart.When Cyril pulled out the broken stick, the blood dyed half of the stick bright red.

He fell completely to the ground, blood gushing out, dyeing the broken stone bricks under him red.

The bishop who fanatically promoted the belief in the Sea God for nearly a century ended up in the secret underground of St. Mir's Church.

Even from Seagod's recovery to his death, the entire period of time did not exceed 2 minutes.

Cyril finally let out a long breath. Only now did he feel his legs go weak, and he sat down on the ground.The battle with Stanley Clemens just now made his nerves tense. If he made a mistake in any step, he might be the one who died here.

But he immediately remembered what was happening now, and his emotions became tense again.He raised his head, and the projection above his head disappeared because of the fall of Stanley Clemens. At this moment, he was unable to know the situation outside.

"There's no time for you to rest."

A faint, ethereal voice came from behind him, and the simple words jumped into his ears, but it made Cyril's joints soothed as if soaked in a hot spring.

"Lord Urella?" Cyril tasted the voice, which was almost the same as when Miss Misha was possessed by Nora, "Didn't the ceremony prepared by Stanley Clemens fail? Why did you recover?" ?”

"The ceremony did fail." Clauris Benjamin said flatly, "Because it wasn't a ritual to revive the gods, it was just a wrong method."

"What exists on her is..." Cyril was taken aback.

And she held the small coral figure in both hands from her chest.

Cyril understood immediately.

"Urella's projection... so you were able to show up because I brought the coral figure here?"

Cloris Benjamin glanced at him, and Cyril couldn't discern any emotion from the eyes that were already filled with light golden luster.But he immediately felt a stream of water flowing on his right hand, and when he looked down, a ball of water was wiping the golden broken stick, wiping the blood-stained broken stick clean.

"That's my halberd." Cloris Benjamin—no, it should be said that it was Sea God Urella said lightly: "Nora has already given you instructions."

Cyril remembered what Nora said before: "Urella's projection will guide you to find what Urella left behind..."

"Yes—" He immediately became excited.

Whether it is Danya, the God of Origin, Nora, the God of Nature, or Urila, the God of Sea, these high-level gods who sound fraternal are by no means vase gods who lack combat power, and each of them is a good fighter.

Nora and Urella are equally good at riding, and both have their own mounts and their own chariots.The difference is that Nora prefers archery, while Urella prefers to charge with a halberd.

"Master Urella!" Cyril yelled, "The situation outside is very bad now, please stop his forbidden spell and repel Vishlin..."

But before he finished speaking, Sea God Urella shook his head slightly.

"I'm just a projection." She said softly, "This body should have been buried long ago. She had sincere faith in me during her lifetime, so she shouldn't be disturbed anymore."

Cyril was stunned for a moment.

"But, but the one outside—Vishlingen, that is the same era as yours! There are also forbidden spells! How to stop them?"

Cyril wanted to spit out a series of words of accusation for a moment, but in the end he was hesitant to say anything.

And Sea God Urella seemed to have expected it long ago, and raised his hand when his words fell.

The finger pointed to Cyril.

"I?"

"you."

"Hey hey hey, don't be kidding me!" Cyril went crazy, he scratched his hair, he felt so uncomfortable that his scalp and the back of his neck were itching, "I'm just a professional-level little knight, why should I go? Compete with it? That thing is enough to kill a hundred of me!"

As he was speaking, the broken stick in his right hand suddenly shone with a bright golden light, and then both sides of the broken stick began to extend, and in a blink of an eye, it turned into a long halberd taller than a person; the golden head of the halberd was bright and Dazzling, with its luster, it illuminates the ground around his feet.

And as the halberd appeared, the corresponding message floated in his eyes:

“[Schlaholden]: When you hold it, you will hear the voice of the deep sea.

The weapon of Urella, the god of the sea, which possesses brilliant power; those who are lucky enough to get it... do not exist.

But you must remember that if you want to wield it with a mortal body, you must keep your heart. "

Sea God's Halberd, Shila Holden.

He held it tightly in his hand with five fingers, and lifted it lightly without feeling any heaviness, it was the most convenient weight for him.

The skill effect of spear specialization allowed him to use this weapon without using the Vientiane Wind Shape. He just waved it a few times, and felt that it was no different from his own arm.

He felt that his throat was a little hoarse - what he was holding in his hands at this moment was a real "magic weapon"!
Even in another time and space, in the world of the game, in 20, more than 1466 years later, players have not yet seen the artifact—note, they have never seen it, because the artifact has not even been born, and perhaps the timeline has to go to After advancing for 20 or even 50 years, the artifact may appear in front of the players as the version changes.

But at this moment, he grasped it so easily in his hand, could dance it, and was about to use it to face a remnant of the First Civilization Era——

Thinking of this, the temperature of his excited heart suddenly dropped again.He looked at Urella seriously, and said in a low voice:
"But it's not just weapons that underpin battle."

"So, I will grant this to you." Urella raised the coral figure again, "I injected my magic power into it, and it will help you to a certain extent."

Only now did Cyril notice that Urella's standing body was trembling at this moment, legs, arms, body, everywhere, so much so that she trembled a little when she spoke.

"The body can't hold it anymore." Urella glanced down and realized the abnormality of her body, and then said calmly: "I hope you can bury this devout believer."

"I will."

"This space is about to disintegrate." Urella looked around, "I will leave a passage for you to leave."

Cyril nodded slightly: "On the periphery of this space, there is another companion of ours."

Kindred, who was washed away by the magic wave before, finally bypassed the turbulent flow of magic power remaining in the magic plain and rushed back.She stood behind Cyril, her beautiful eyes were full of confusion towards Urella.

But Urella's eyes fell on her, but she showed a gentle smile for the first time.

"The breath of Isis... is really rare. What he left to future generations is much more than what I leave to future generations." She murmured softly, and closed her eyes before Cyril could speak again.

Golden light gradually lit up on her body, and this burst of golden light led to the top of their heads, forming a spiral staircase.

And when the spiral staircase led out of the space, Urella's standing body fell backwards.

His breath disappeared.

Cyril knew that this was a manifestation of the power of projection dissipating.He didn't waste any time, walked quickly to Clauris Benjamin's side, picked up the coral figure in the open palm, and felt a warm feeling immediately when he touched it.

The previously unpolished face had turned into a finely polished Urella's face, showing a smile.The golden light flows on it, and abundant magic power is contained in it.

“[Sea God’s Call]: Urella’s power aggregate, it can easily trigger a drastic change in the ocean.

Don't throw it in the whirlpool, it will get dizzy. "

Cyril carried it close to his body and hung it with the nameless necklace on his chest.The magic power was poured into his body continuously, and he felt that his magic pool was filled instantly.

"Hurry up." Cyril took a deep breath and said to Kindred, "Hold Miss Clauris Benjamin's body."

Kindred nodded slightly, and then carried the saint's body on his back.

"Then... what about him?"

What she looked at was not Stanley Clemens on the ground, but the direction they came from.

Where Neil Alden fought.

Cyril also looked there, without any fluctuation of magic power, and the outcome of the battle was also unknown.

Can the professional-level Neil Alden really survive the extraordinary Philip Benjamin?
he does not know.

But at the moment he had no time for the ascetic who had followed him from the far south of La Rochelle to the Port of New Orville.

He walked to the corner of the ruins, grabbed the prince of Saint Emma who didn't know his life and death, and then walked up the stairs leading to the outside of the plain.

"Urella left him a way."

He said softly: "If he...No, we will meet again."

He said, striding straight up.

--------

The footsteps of the young earl and the maiden of Isis had disappeared in the middle of the enchanted plain.

Time passed minute by minute, and there was no sound to record the flow of time—only the pool of blood slowly spreading on the ground, which seemed to prove that this messy ruin was not a picture, but a real existence.

The body of the old man who fell on the ground and his lower body was kneeling towards the mahogany coffin suddenly trembled slightly.

Then there was a constant "ho ho" sound from his throat, and his whole body trembled violently. After a while, the body that had been pierced through the back by the young earl actually straightened up again.

Stanley Clemens raised his head and covered his heart with his hands. He was so weak that he couldn't even take a big breath. He could only take small mouthfuls of continuous rapid breathing, trying to adjust his state based on this.

"Urella...Master Urella, my Urella...no..."

He kept murmuring, his eyes rolled white, his head was tilted to the side, and his tongue fell out of his mouth, but every word was full of resentment:

"Cyril Adrian, I remember you, I will crush you, throw you into the vortex of the deep sea, and make you suffer water torture forever—"

In the angry voice, his fingers kept grasping, as if he could express his resentment by doing so.

But all his voices stopped abruptly in a sudden sound.

"Pa-ta-ba-ta-"

Footsteps?or two?Where did it come from?

His eyes trembled, and he turned his head slowly in disbelief, looking at the source of the footsteps.

Standing there were two ascetic monks supporting each other.

When he saw the first person, his face showed a look of joy for a moment, but when his eyes fell on the second person's face, his expression was immediately occupied by astonishment:
"Philip, Neil? No, how could you, how could you stand together?"

His breathing was almost disordered, and every word was full of doubts.

"I clearly, clearly feel that your magic power has dissipated—"

Standing there were the judge Philip Benjamin and the ascetic Neil Alden.

And Philip Benjamin just stood there, looking at him coldly.

"Are you coming...or am I coming?" Neil Alden asked in a weak voice.

Philip made no answer.

He made Neil Alden lean against a section of the wall, then strode forward and punched Stanley Clemens hard in the face!
"boom!"

Stanley's fragile body flew out, and he hit the ground heavily, wailing: "No, Philip, we are standing together, my ideal, your ideal—"

Another heavy punch was his answer.

Philip stepped on his chest, grinding his wound back and forth, listening to the old man's screams, without saying a word.

"Philip, Philip!" He yelled wildly, "The sea god said that the sea god loves the world, and believers should love each other—"

Philip's pupils shrank suddenly, and then he bent down, using his hand as a sword, and pressed it against Stanley Clemens' neck.

"God is merciful to all men."

"But I'm just an ascetic, I'm suffering all my life, I'm burdened with endless sins, and love has nothing to do with me."

"This blow."

"For my dearest sister, Cloris Benjamin."

Stanley Clemens' pupils completely lost their spirit in the splash of blood.

This time, he really died.

　Writing and writing, forget about Pelaggios...

　　
　
(End of this chapter)