Chapter 991 Hang the Bishop Who Dropped the Ceiling Into the Street Lamp! (Ten Thousand Rewards Plus 5 Updates)
Gretel subconsciously followed the crowd and took a few steps back. He pursed his lips and looked at the triumphant army and the prisoners they were escorting.
The archbishop who was the first in line to be captured had his gold-rimmed white robe in tatters. It was unclear whether it was more like a fishing net or more like a mop strip. With his head hanging down, he was held up by two soldiers, and he was in a semi-conscious state;
The second-ranked knight, his armor was all pitted and uneven (Gretel felt distressed for a while). Although he was not semi-conscious, his eyes were wide open, his head was tilted, his expression was numb, and drool was drooling from the corner of his mouth.
Grete secretly speculated, which master of the magic control system was responsible for throwing a mental retardation spell at this person?
the third……
The fourth place...
The fifth place...
Prisoners from the Glorious Holy See and prisoners from various surrounding tribes appeared alternately. Grete tried hard to feel the power of each prisoner, curiously guessing the way the natives ranked the prisoners:
"13, 13, this one seems to be only level 11... This one is 13 again? Could it be that the injury was too severe and the strength of the force field has dropped? Hmm... this person... looks a bit familiar..."
He half-closed his eyes and took one step forward, one step, and another. The person who was escorted in front seems to have been seen somewhere, but I can't remember...
The prisoner's nose was bruised and his face was swollen, his head was hanging down, and his face was half blood and half mud. Grete felt that he had never seen this guy before, or at least, under this cover, he shouldn't be able to recognize the other person's identity.
So, where does this sense of familiarity come from...
He moved forward subconsciously. Ahead, the team escorting the prisoners was slightly confused. Two soldiers crossed their spears and raised their voices to stop them:
"Don't come close! Don't disrupt the team!"
"This is the son of the gods!"
The White Eagle warrior accompanying Gretel quickly scolded him back. While refuting the other party, he also wanted to avoid disturbing Gretel's trance state. Helpless, I could only quickly walk half a step in front of Gretel, stretch out my arms, and block a passage for him:
"It's the noble Lord of Plague! Don't block his way!"
The soldier who stopped him was startled. Even if they didn't know anything else about this battle, they also knew that a young son named Thor, a strong man of the Lord of Plague, and the Golden Eagle warriors, killed the Plague Girl;
This son of the God of Thunder attracted a large number of strong men - the same strong men who drove the huge divine beasts to stop above their capital and go out to fight with their gods;
Those strong men summoned light, fireballs, thunder and death at will. The 'white ghosts' and the warriors and shaman priests at the foot of the mountain were vulnerable to them...
"Please, please!" They raised their spears and let go of the road, bowing and retreating. Grete's eyes were half-opened and half-closed, and he slowly moved forward. One step after another, the captive he locked shrank back, and then shrank back again...
"Don't come over here!" He shrank to the ground, blood streaming down his face, and screamed at the top of his lungs:
"Why are you here! If I had known I would have killed you a few years ago... At that time, you only needed one finger to kill you..."
Huh? Who is this guy? Sounds like you've seen me before and dealt with me?
Grete tried hard to search his memory, but to no avail.
He raised his hand and used a cleaning technique to remove the blood and sludge on the other person's face. He took a closer look, but to no avail.
The cleansing technique can remove dirt, but it cannot cure bruises on the nose and face. The other person's face was bruised and purple, which really made it more difficult for him to identify. Grete frowned and thought hard:
Do you want to throw away a healing spell? It seems too much to do this to a prisoner...
"Gretel, what's wrong?"
A steady voice sounded from behind. Gretel suddenly turned around and found that his senior brother had fallen behind him at some point, staring at the prisoners. Gretel scratched his head:
"I seem to have seen this prisoner somewhere...I can't remember...wait!"
His eyes lit up. Walk a few steps, stand one step in front of the prisoner, inhale, exhale, close your eyes. When he opened his eyes again, a dim light shot out around his pupils, locking the prisoner firmly in the center:
"I remembered! It wasn't me who had seen him - it was the Plague Girl who had seen him!" Gretel suddenly turned around, grabbed Senior Brother Byerbo, and pointed his other hand straight at the prisoner:
"I saw him in the memory of the plague girl! It was him who gave the blanket stained with smallpox to the plague girl and started this plague!"
"What!" Archmage Baierbo was shocked. He made a gesture and murmured a few words, and soon, the golden eagle warriors, female snakes, and magicians flew down one after another.
Archmage Heins was the first one to rush to the scene. As soon as he arrived at the scene, he stared at the prisoner:
"Is it him? Is this this guy?"
The air of death and resentment in this guy's body was boiling and boiling, so thick that it could almost be seen with the naked eye. In the eyes of the great mage of the necromantic system, this guy is simply a living priceless treasure!
"Wait, wait, let me take another look." Behind Archmage Heins, a young mage who was well-dressed and well-dressed, with a smell of perfume lingering even in the wilderness, walked out slowly:
"Let me look through his memory... to see who he is and how he came up with such a vicious idea..."
He waved his hand casually, and on the middle finger of his right hand, a moonstone ring cast a hazy light, covering the prisoner. The eyes of the captives lying on the ground widened as much as they could, and then suddenly shrunk to the point of needles. After a moment, they screamed:
"It's not me! It's not me! - Governor Alfonso asked me to do this! He threatened me that if I didn't go, he would hand me over to the Holy See... I am here alone, without subordinates, without a backstage... …”
"It was me...it was my idea...the plague girl...such a powerful demon, she is only one step away from killing the Eagle Kingdom..."
Gretel quietly took two steps back and hid himself behind Archmage Baierbo. The senior brother didn't look back, looked ahead, and only smiled at him through the spiritual connection:
"Did you see it? The great mages of the control system...are so powerful...even if they have magic tools to protect the soul, they can still get around it. If you don't want to be attacked by them, just build your own mental barrier!" "
Gretel Weiwei. After listening to a few words, the master of the magic control system suddenly twisted the ring. The moonstone on the ring turned to the inner circle and an opal was revealed. Another circle of blurry and dreamy light shone down, and soon, he half-closed his eyes and fell into meditation.
"This guy told a lot of things." After a while, he opened his eyes and raised his hands to the magicians around him. On the little finger of the left hand, an emerald ring shines:
"I've recorded it all, and I'll transcribe it into the airship when I get back."
The archmages all nodded. Except for Archmage Heins, the others tacitly took a step back to make way for the natives.
Chihuacoto was the first to pounce on him. Thousands of snake hair hissed, and his eyes made of phosphorescence opened and closed quickly, as if they were going to bite him to death:
"That's you?!"
The deputy referee of Lucerne slowly raised his head and looked around at the natives and magicians with despair in his eyes.
From the Glorious Holy City to the Kingdom of Kent, from the Kingdom of Kent to the New World, and then from the small town of Waltham on the east coast of the New World to the Eagle Country in the southeastern part of the New World——
He had traveled so far and escaped thousands of miles away, but why was he still recognized by Gretel Nordmark, the target of his original mission? !
The magicians looked at him coldly and stood aside. Except for the pale and swollen black-robed mage, who stared at him with a fervent face, everyone else wanted to see him die;
The woman with long hair flying around her head and fangs spread out at the end of each hair looked like she wanted to drive those venomous snakes and bite him to death on the spot;
And those warriors wearing golden armor, one by one, clenched the weapons in their hands. If someone gave the order, they would probably chop themselves into mincemeat immediately - using those obsidian knives and axes...
“Dedicate him to God!”
"Yes, to God!"
"Now, immediately!"
The deputy referee of Lucerne was horrified. He once watched a living sacrifice by the indigenous people. The indigenous people dragged the person to the top of the pyramid, cut open the chest alive, and took out the heart——
The dagger was still made of obsidian. The man who was sacrificed alive wailed at the top of the pyramid for a long, long time!
He doesn't want to die!
He doesn't want to die!
Who can save him? Who could save his life in a place like this, surrounded by enemies?
Deputy Governor Alfonso couldn't, Archbishop Teramo couldn't, the natives couldn't, the magicians... the magicians... no one could save him, no one would be willing to save him, except...
"Help me!" He suddenly gained strength, rolled and crawled, and threw himself at Gretel. Although he was immediately blocked by two spears and pinned to the ground, he still supported the ground and stretched out his hand to Gretel:
"Please save me! I no longer dare to be your enemy! I gave up on killing you and came so far away! I am willing to be your follower and your slave. I can sign a soul contract ...I am a fourteenth-level priest, I can be useful to you..."
The magicians tacitly found a way to reveal Gretel to others. Only Archmage Baierbo did not step aside and stood firmly in front of Gretel, turning around and saying:
"Gretel, what did you say?"
"I don't want this guy!"
Grete turned away, full of disgust. What disgusting thing wants to hug his thigh, dream!
Stay away from him!
Not to mention signing a soul contract to be his slave, even if he died and wanted to be his skeleton soldier, he didn't want that!
Dirty his space bag!
Archmage Baierbo smiled softly. Yes, this was the Gretel he knew. He usually looked soft-hearted, but when faced with big things, he was persistent and not greedy. He glanced leisurely at the puddle of mud on the ground:
"Then what do you think we should do with him?"
"Hang him up as a street light!"
Gretel blurted out. I immediately regretted the sentence I uttered: Street lamp, where did the street lamp come from in this place? This isn't Nevis - no, I'm not talking about the roadside in Nevis, the kind of street lights that are maintained by the municipality and people light up every evening...
"You can really make things happen for me." Just as he was thinking about how to make amends, Archmage Baierbo already sighed.
With a flick of his hand, the rocks naturally began to flow in the center of the square, at the center of the two pyramids. In a moment, a Nevis-style stone street lamp rose from the ground. Another flick, the top of the street lamp, the stone lampshade shines brightly, and then it calms down again:
"This street lamp represents everything you have done for this country, your contribution to saving them from smallpox and recruiting reinforcements for them."
Archmage Baierbo spoke lightly, and his voice, under the influence of magic, spread loudly throughout the square. After saying these two sentences, he flicked his fingers for the third time:
"go!"
An activated rope flew out of thin air, strangled the Lucerne deputy referee's neck, and hung him dangling on the street lamp.
****
I'm so happy after I've finished adding more, I spread out my limbs...
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