The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 841 Ch.840 Limited Time Return
This Crown of Child asked (needed) her to find an 'Apostle'... or 'Messenger' or whatever, in short, this was a thorough and true human being who walked for the gods -

It is up to Rose to channel this power, giving her a 'purifying' balm... and so on.

What is this called 'being chosen'?
Am I just a messenger?

"…You can also be my messenger," the boy looked at her cautiously, "Are you willing? Lillian?"

"Of course I-"

Rose opened her mouth.

she…

Of course she doesn't want to.

Rose had heard about the organization "Black Jar" and the path they were on from Roland:
The ritualist who works with plague insects and ants can imagine what she saw when she 'woke up' - fungi, spores, and pus.

Miss Lillian, who is currently seeking the 'spell of fulness', obviously does not want to choose such a path that is doomed to 'rot'.

First of all, she has become a ritualist, and secondly, she is also a woman... No, even if she is a man, she would not have to embark on such a "terrible" path if she had a choice.

“…A messenger is a messenger.”

She asked unwillingly:
"What kind of 'qualifications' are needed for this path... Who should I turn to? Who should I turn to to save those who deserve... I mean, 'hurt' people."

The young god smiled timidly: "...Lillian, in fact, the path does not require any qualifications."

"Oh, really? If I keep asking you, you won't go on, right?"

Rose rolled her eyes.

"Speak something I can understand, good crown."

She disrespected Him less and less, but He felt more and more that his choice was not wrong.

A person who faces the gods.

He is indeed a friend of the Messiah’s enemies.

"…What I mean is, if you become my 'envoy', you no longer need any qualifications." The young man's words were more seductive. He spread out his palms, and the light mycelium tangled into a shining dagger. Then, in Rose's astonished eyes, it transformed into a blade, a pen, and a miniature bow and arrow.

Speak from the heart.

Epidemic is a powerful force, and this is an incredibly awe-inspiring path.

But, there is only one drawback.

Nausea.

Rose looked at the boy whose face suddenly turned red, and rubbed her forehead: "...What should I do, my God? Become a mentor to a 'savior', train it to be a ritualist, and then wait for it to create a good medicine to solve the ointment pollution?"

"Do you have any concept of time? I mean, the time it takes for humans to become ritualists."

The young god understood what she meant.

"That's not called 'medicine', Lillian. Balm is pollution, and the power to cure it should also be called 'pollution'...Humans are too fragile."

"Yes, that's why some of you are sleeping or some of you are crying now."

Spirit: …

"Give it to someone you choose to swallow."

He pointed at the 'little Roland' dancing on Rose's legs, and the puppet made of mycelium quickly 'melted' into a small milky white sugar pill.

"I'm just asking, just asking - if I eat it..."

The boy was somewhat happy: "Then you will be my waiter."

Rose was a little absent-minded, thinking about where to use this "little sugar pill". She didn't notice the different word at the end of the increasingly quiet words: messenger, waiter.

"I don't want to." She replied casually.

The young god immediately cried: "Yes... I should have known that I would be disliked... I am someone who should not exist... I... wuwuwu..."

Rose: ...

She really couldn't stand this.

Whether it is a crying woman or a crying man.

For Miss Snitch, the best way to solve problems is never tears, but fists.

"Okay, I'll take care of it... So should we talk about something else?"

The boy sobbed twice and raised his head silently.

"others?"

Rose rubbed her fingers together, looking mercenary: "Helping the gods..."

How about some mystical organs, or a ritual to destroy the house with a 'boom'?

The boy moved his fingers.

A strand of mycelium climbed up Rose's leg and condensed into the appearance of Roland.

Rose looked at him silently.

He looked at Rose silently. The world was quiet for a moment.

half an hour.

"this one?"

"…Um."

神…

Is this the only reward you give to the people who do the work?

No wonder Saint Daisy stepped forward.

This is more damnable than those factory owners.

The boy was a little embarrassed: "I'm still 'asleep', Lillian. This is all I can do..."

Rose curled her lips and said, "I heard that the rubbish in the Cradle of Flesh and Blood is always thinking about awakening their own God. Some extremists in the Holy Cross are also so stupid... What does 'awakening' mean?"

The spirit didn't rush to answer, but asked: "Is this considered a 'reward'?"

remuneration…

No.

That requires a different question.

Whether the gods wake up or not has nothing to do with her.

Rose hooked her finger, led the boy to her, and whispered something.

soon.

The young god started to act strangely - although his eyes could not be seen, one could tell from the angle of his head that he was staring at the area just below Rose's collarbone.

“…it was just some fat.”

"Don't worry about what it is, I want it."

The spirit shook his head.

"I don't have that power."

Rose was anxious: "What kind of god is this?"

"If you become my ritualist, you will naturally have the power to change your form," the young god was still tempting her: "This is an extremely special power that none of my believers have..."

Rose sighed and said in disappointment, "Wait until I get interested in cockroaches and centipedes."

She was not going to be a ritualist on this path.

At least they had reached the second ring, and there was nothing wrong with the "secret scroll". Besides, Rose was still a little afraid in her heart - she was afraid of the Cradle of Flesh and Blood and the Black Urn.

She had heard from Roland that some high-level ritualists in the Cradle of Flesh and Blood possessed the power to change the path for others.

This kind of "evil" method...

not to mention.

She couldn't be completely sure that the 'thing' in front of her that claimed to be a god was really the powerful being in the legend.

She didn't want to have cysts all over her body and pus oozing out all day long.

The boy looked at the girl who was lost in thought and sighed softly.

moment.

Her limbs thinned and shattered like torn paper.

He was the only one left in this wasteland filled with cysts and poisonous smoke.

Countless spores floating in the air, imperceptible to the naked eye, were singing around Him. They were happy for their master, praising His greatness and innocence, compassion and kindness.

The dream was wrinkled.

The young god suddenly turned his head and looked towards a certain place in the void.

A petite person tore open the dream like a zipper.

She fluttered her wings, jumped a few times on the dust-like spores, somersaulted, and landed smoothly on the smooth obsidian table.

then.

She slowly gathered her messy long hair, ignoring the spores' complaints.

"…Lady Aurora?"

The young spirit bowed his head obediently in greeting.

"Although I'm glad that you remember my name..." She jumped a few times and landed in front of the boy, looking up: "How can a god bow to an alien?"

"Because you are not an alien."

The young spirit said.

(End of this chapter)