Book of Gods and Demons

　　　　 dark night, cold rain.

　　 A large airship is like a giant shark in the deep sea, flying slowly under the thick black clouds.

　　 Dozens of bright beams of light spouted from under the airship’s pod, tearing open the curtain of night and rain, and illuminating the center of the dock camp where the Portusians were entrenched.

　　 Soybean grain-sized raindrops slide across the beam of light, and the raindrops are dyed translucent by the beam of light, giving people a sense of chill like a knife inexplicably.

　　 In the Portusian camp, men and women screamed like ghosts.

　　 They rushed out of the camp, following the survival instinct handed down by their ancestors, with a small amount of household items, they wanted to escape in the dark.

　　 Heavy horseshoes and noisy footsteps sounded in all directions. On a convertible four-wheeled carriage, a large gas lamp burst with strong blue-white light. After being reflected by a glass mercury concave mirror, it turned into a beam of light several feet in diameter and illuminated the campsite, illuminating the entire campsite. Such as day.

The cavalry of the 　　 brigade wielded a sheathed saber, like a demon rushing out of hell, riding wildly in the night.

　　 The scabbard was hit **** the shoulders of the fleeing Portusians, and the sound of heavy blows spread far in the night. The beaten Portusians let out a stern cry and fell to the ground and rolled continuously.

　　 The cavalry screamed loudly and snarled roughly.

　　 "Kneel down, kneel down!"

　　 "No running... asshole, kneel down!"

　　 "Kill the rebels, kill the rebels! All kneel down!"

　　 A large number of Portusians were knocked to the ground in horror, and more people knelt on the ground.

　　 On the four-wheeled carriage surrounded in all directions, in the darkness behind the beam of light, a large group of heavily armed soldiers set on torches and surrounded the entire camp.

　　 A wise man dropped his belongings and rushed to the pier at the pier in three or two steps, preparing to jump into the river and escape.

　　On the giant airship that was no more than a thousand feet above the ground, a series of giant bombs fell like pheasants laying eggs. A round bomb with a diameter of more than one thousand millimetres splashed a column of water tens of feet high on the river, and then accompanied by a dull roar, one huge column of water exploded two to three hundred feet high.

　　 A few bright beams of light shone on the trestle bridge, and several clever Portusians raised their hands high, and knelt down slowly with a panic expression.

　　Who dare to jump into the river?

　　Who would dare?

　　The war airships of the Royal Airship Battalion were all used, and a series of at least hundreds of huge bombs were dropped when they met!

　　 The cost of these bombs...

　　 Several Portusians on the trestle wanted to cry.

　　 They valued themselves. If they were killed by someone, the life money Stuart IX would ask for was at most one or two gold marks... But these huge bombs, how much would a bomb cost?

　　 One bomb can replace a dozen of their bad lives, right?

　　 Where does this come from?

　　 What did they do?

　　 What did they do?

　　 Is it an eye-opening **** who touched the imperial princess' **** on the street?

　　 Even if this is the case, it wouldn't be like this, right?

　　 The cavalry rode and galloped in the camp, hitting hard with sabers, and whipping their horses. A large group of ordinary Portusians knelt on the ground in the stagnant water, following the survival instinct handed down by their ancestors, crying for mercy.

　　 is even more ingenious. They pointed to the people around them and counted out the good things they had done these days.

　　 Who stole a wallet the day before yesterday.

　　 Who robbed the child’s lollipop yesterday?

　　Who the day before yesterday was plotting against a girl in a small alley?

　　 Who gathered up the tribe last month, sneaked into the home of a wealthy businessman, stolen, and was hunted down three streets by evil dogs.

　　 There is no need for interrogation. In the face of such a big battle of ‘encirclement and suppression’, these Portusians took the initiative to ‘confess and be lenient.’

　　 In the central part of the camp, in a sturdy warehouse, hundreds of strong and powerful young men closed the heavy warehouse door to resist stubbornly.

　　 Those ordinary people are just petty thefts, committing some innocent petty crimes.

　　 But these guys, they are the ‘backbone backbone’ of the Lion’s Tail tribe. They have committed numerous felonies such as rape, robbery, kidnapping, extortion, and even human trafficking.

All tribesmen know the activities they committed. These crimes are equivalent to military medals in the Portusian tribe. The more serious crimes are committed, the higher the status of the tribe, the more treatment they will enjoy. Higher!

　　According to the laws of the Durham Empire, if their charges are confirmed, they will definitely be sent to the gallows!

　　 If the judges who sent the case were more ‘traditional’, they might enjoy the VIP treatment of the guillotine.

Dozens of old matchlock guns protruded from the narrow window of the warehouse, and a hysterical voice yelled: "Asshole, we are not guilty... We are innocent... We didn't do anything... Kind Muteste ...Look at these imperial dogs...They slaughtered good people...Oh my God!"

　　 A row of twelve 100-caliber field guns was pushed up from the rear, and each field gun was illuminated in the center by a beam of light reflected from a four-wheeled carriage.

　　 There was a gunner holding a small torch, and he slammed it against the fire door.

　　 On a rainy day, the gunpowder was damp, and none of the twelve field guns fired smoothly.

　　 On the ground, a major general wrapped in a poncho cursed swearing words, raised the kerosene torch in his hand, and shook it toward the sky three times.

　　A giant airship flew over this warehouse, and ten giant bombs fell from a height of one thousand feet.

　　 ‘Boom’!

　　 The earth trembled.

　　 The entire warehouse was blown to pieces in a dazzling fire.

　　 The major general who sent the signal whistled softly: "It's perfect...The accuracy of these **** today can be used in military university textbooks!"

　　On the outskirts of this camp, on a small hill, a team of night patrols from the Southern Suburb Police Station ride on war horses, staring blankly at the burning camp.

　　 "Stuart IX, who is this offending?"

　　 "It doesn't matter who he offends... He and his people, it's over... Ha, this winter, the public security assessment of our branch should be good."

　　 "In other words, can we get more bonuses at the end of the year?"

　　 A group of policemen smiled happily, and some even sang a cheerful opera minor.

　　 When the Lion Tail Tribe of King Stuart IX suffered an extinction disaster, Michele, the vice-president for student affairs of Imperial Fourth University, was busy in his studio.

　　As a well-known sculptor in the empire, Michelo is famous for beautiful female-body statues, especially unclothed female-body statues. In the courtyards of many nobles and wealthy merchants in the imperial capital, there are art treasures signed by Michaelo.

　　 The lights are brilliant, and even the dazzling studio is over a hundred feet long and thirty feet wide.

　　 It is quite messy here, with a large pile of various stones and carving tools, and there are huge pencil sketches on the wall.

　　 Five girls from the fourth university, wearing extremely cool short-sleeved half-length sleeves, pose beautifully on the round stage in the middle of the studio. The three girls were sitting on the round platform, stretching their bodies as hard as possible; two girls standing behind them, proudly puffed up their chests, highlighting their broad minds.

　　 There was no trace of his body. Although he was old, the muscular Michelo was covered with shiny olive oil and circled a ten-foot-high rock.

　　 From time to time, he raised his head to look at the five girls who acted as models, while using a pencil to draw a few strokes on the big stone in front of him.

　　 abruptly, he slammed the pencil to the ground, panting with hands on his hips, cursing hysterically.

　　 "Hammer, this bastard, a idiot who abuses his power... He actually made someone to take me to the police station for a day and a night!"

　　 "Shame, a great shame... I have never been humiliated like this in my life in Michaelo!"

　　 "Profanity, this is blasphemy... This is blasphemy of art..."

　　 "I, Michele, a world-renowned sculpture artist, the principal of the respected Fourth University, my character is famous throughout Medland... I was arrested by the police station for confession!"

　　 "Li Beng Le is ruined... the empire has no future!"

　　Mi Cairo waved his hands and let out a roar of ‘deafening’.

The five girls looked at Mikaro with smiles. They winked at each other and wondered if they could take the opportunity to have a deep exchange with Mikaro... For them, Michael, who has the title of master sculptor, is just what they have in mind. God!

　　They are definitely not for profit...but for the pursuit of the essence of art!

　　‘Boom, boom, boom’!

　　 The heavy door of the studio was knocked, and the knocking sound was heavy and penetrating, and the unhurried rhythm highlighted the confidence of the knocker.

　　 "Go!" Michelo roared hoarsely: "Don't disturb a noble soul's pursuit of art! The farther you go, the better! Go!"

　　 There was a muffled sound of ‘boom’. The door made of one-foot-thick oak board wrapped in one-inch-thick iron plate specially made by this studio was shattered by an incredible force.

　　 Numerous fragments are like shotguns fired from field artillery, whizzing around with piercing noises ~www.ltnovel.com~ The large number of stones stacked in a large space behind the door shattered to pieces.

　　 The huge noise made the five girls hiss and scream, and one by one fell on the ground like frightened quail.

　　Mi Cairo was suddenly pale...this power...this violence...if he stood at the door just now, has he been shattered by these fragments?

　　 A few middle-aged men wearing black uniforms with extremely serious expressions walked into the studio with a peculiar chill of rainy night.

"Michelo, it has been verified that when you served as the head of the Sculpture Department of the Fourth University 15 years ago, you had 27 pens with a total of 47,892 gold marks, 15 pfennigs and 23 su. The funding is unknown."

"It has been verified that after you became the Vice-Chancellor of the Fourth University seven years ago, in your anonymous account with the United Bank of the United Kingdom in Nice, you have 193 sums of wealth of more than 2.3 million gold marks of unknown origin. ."

　　 "It has been verified that you have seven properties and twelve estates in the imperial capital and surrounding provinces under the names of nine women who have an ambiguous relationship with you."

　　 "It has been verified that you are directly related to the inexplicable drop-out and disappearance of seventeen girls from the Fourth University in the past three years."

　　 "Please, come with us."

　　 A middle-aged man stood in front of Michelo and showed a hideous badge.

　　 Hydra glaring at him, this is the badge of the Imperial Supervision Department.

　　Mi Cairo's body trembled violently, his lower abdomen squirmed, and he couldn't help but pee.

　　 The five girls screamed in unison: "The benevolent Muteste... It's disgusting... It's not decent!"