The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1161 The Undying Flame
Roland had been thinking about the idea of ​​having influential friends from the story invite them to visit him in real life.

During those dark days, Miss Nina Collins told him many strange and wonderful stories.

Good story.

If he wants, he can choose any sufficiently excellent one as a starting point.

Sender, however, offered a different suggestion—that in the use of power, the wicked but clever is far superior to the foolish and insane…and passionate (Rose's words).

'I don't recommend you start with pirates, elves, or beings of higher power, Roland. What you need right now are some unassuming guests, preferably in groups, who can pass messages between us…'

Roland was even thinking of inviting a dragon.

He doesn't need to consider whether there are enough "secrets," just as he doesn't need to consider the 'price of the great art' that Natalia mentioned—wells and seas are different.

and so.

And so, the little imp who borrows things makes her appearance.

The fairy is in honor of Aurora. The name Nina… speaks for itself.

“But I hope you can give them more normal names after ‘Nina’—instead of Nina One, Nina Two, Nina Three…” Rose clicked her nails, curling up unceremoniously in the bowl-shaped soft chair.

She had already tied several knots around the small candle and hung it on the teapot handle.

"Old Tom has made all the preparations for the autumn hunt... Where did you two go yesterday?"

Roland and Sender approach Natalia seeking answers about the relationship between the saint, the Holy Grail, the ritual, and Enid.

Natalia crawled away before she could finish speaking.

The two had no choice but to wait in the red brick house until midnight, waiting for the crazy lady to have climbed enough.

'Flame, a minor variant.'

She told Roland that the Holy Grail ritual, which only idiots believed in and had never succeeded in, required the most devout and pure saintess, but they had never succeeded, which meant that either they had made a mistake in choosing the saintess or something else had gone wrong.

For example: flames.

Natalia said that in addition to the saint, the Holy Grail must also be heated by the purest flame in the world.

As someone who knew the secrets of the "Holy Flame," Roland couldn't possibly be unaware of what the 'purest' flame represented.

An inextinguishable flame.

Nine rings of holy flame.

The first to arrive serves as the spark, while the later arrivals consume the former, thus advancing to the true ninth ring.

An inextinguishable flame.

They need to have one of the eight Holy Flame Rings ascend first to fill a link in the Holy Grail ritual—Enid Jutia, or Kishhai.

Which is 'simple'?
no doubt.

“That’s just your guess,” Rose said, frowning.

Although she didn't like that old woman, but...

“Of course I hope I’m wrong, Rose.” Roland stood up and glanced at the bear-head clock on the wall.

…………

……

knock knock.

Roland rarely visited late at night.

He usually left late at night, returning home with the 'pungent' smell that Yam described—Roland knew, of course, that Yam didn't like her.

"I thought you would come tomorrow."

When Roland opened the door, Enid was curled up on the sofa as usual. On the coffee table sat a matchbox, a silver candlestick, and a wide-mouthed bronze goblet.

A pair of unfinished, lotus-root-colored gloves.

"Come smell me..."

The woman, whose fabric was dwindling day by day, lazily raised an arm and scratched Roland a few times like a cat—their 'little game.' During those days of 'bravely defeating Gao Huan with a lance,' Enid Jutia's sudden and unprecedented attachment to Roland Collins was mostly expressed in these 'vulgar and shameless' actions.

Perhaps this is true for the vast majority of men and women in the world who are obsessed with love.

However, Roland wasn't in the mood today.

"A scent of lies, Enid." Despite the overwhelming anticipation, he still bent down and sniffed the woman's fingertips.

“You’re acting like an old man working at Scotland Yard, Roland. Every time it has to start with an interrogation…” Enid snuggled closer to the man, her ankles touching as she rested on the sofa armrest.

"Looks like I won't be able to wait until winter."

He gently rubbed the woman's face in his arms with the pad of his thumb. Her eyebrows were neither too thick nor too thin, her eyelids were like those of a fledgling bird, and a fresh mist mixed with the fragrance of a mature woman emanating from her body made them feel moist and forever full of love, as if they were being rubbed together to produce honey.

“…You really have no manners.” The cat in my arms nibbled at my restless thumb with its teeth.

"I never promised anyone I would follow the rules." The bad man who fishes for cats isn't afraid of cat teeth. He often uses this method to train the temperament of a certain gray cat: he grabs her tongue and makes it heat up like raindrops.

The cat in his arms struggled gently for a moment, then took his hand and patted him.

"I bet it's Miss Sandel Kratofer's fault again, isn't it?"

“You seem to really want everyone to lie with you… The Holy Grail needs your fire, doesn’t it?” Roland’s ten vines climbed up the ivory arch, smoothing the lines on her throat as she exhaled foam and clear spring water.

Holy Grail.

The woman, burying herself in the scent, sighed silently.

finally…

She was about to face her final fate.

“‘My fire’? Of course not.”

Enid broke free from the gentleness and the vines, and as she sat up, she moved the bronze wide-mouthed cup in front of her.

Roland stared at her without saying a word.

then.

The pure flames are resurrected in the scarred hands.

The room was suddenly bathed in daylight.

The flame wasn't burning fiercely, but it was so thick it was almost liquid. It dripped from Enid's palm onto the blanket, burning through the pattern that had traveled across the ocean, witnessing the wooden planks of past judges, falling all the way to the bottom, crawling into the navel of the limestone, heading towards hell to find another group of fervent friends.

She poured out the flames.

Pour it into the tall glass with its mottled verdigris on the inner rim.

For an instant.

The copper plating peeled off, and the gold plating was reborn.

In the gap between the radiances, the almost pure white liquid flames, as hot as a seed of infatuation, melted away the girl's shyness and timidity, and this one and only treasure once again shone with the brilliance it was meant to radiate.

A brilliant golden cup with intersecting cross patterns.

Luxury objects reborn from the ashes reflect the same color of their brethren.

In a daze, Roland glimpsed winged galloping horses, angels that breathed out thunder, and the roar of multi-headed giants.

His thoughts swirled and swirled on the lacquered surface of the golden cup. The chaotic images did not collapse; instead, they made his spirit even more divine.

Anyone, even a mortal, should know that this is a treasure.

"It's in use now."

Enid Juilliard.

She held up the gleaming golden treasure as if she were offering it to a great man, and under Roland's astonished gaze, she held it up playfully like a child who had never been scolded (or whipped), and even nudged it towards his cheek.

"The Holy Grail is right here, my dear. Now... it's been used."

The "secret," which was constantly spreading yet suppressed by its master, swirled into a rough vortex that twisted and contracted inward. In the damp and invisible storm, Roland keenly sensed this unusual and completely different fluctuation.

The fluctuations were even more intense than those of the Eighth Ring Road.

Nine rings.

Enid has arrived at the Ninth Ring Road.

(End of this chapter)