The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 995 Ch994 The Upcoming Choice

Chapter 995 Ch.994 The Upcoming Choice
Rose didn't get a chance to speak.

There were no poison arrows either.

Just as the girl had guessed before, a ritualist who could make people hallucinate without showing up, with such a path of long-range attack ability, was unlikely to have more advantages in close combat.

That's exactly what happened.

When Old Tom raised his cane, he struck the snow on the ground again, shaking it up.

A black shadow exploded from the snow pile beside the carriage: it was like a snow leopard that had been lying in ambush for a long time in the desolate winter and finally seized an opportunity to tear the throat of its prey.

Half a breath.

Or even less time.

For a moment, Rose couldn't concentrate on counting how long it took: the metallic gloves instantly enlarged in her eyes.

It hit Dudan's face hard as he just raised his head.

A frowning breaking sound.

She was lifted up by the uppercut and was suspended in mid-air.

Followed by.

The shadow under the cloak performed a set of exquisite and perfect fighting skills in front of Rose's sight, never letting the enemy fall to the ground:
Through continuous hammering and kicking, more delicate strength control, and swift footsteps, within a full twenty seconds, the poison arrow almost tore every inch of flesh and blood on the body.

In the chaos, Old Tom quietly came behind Rose and helped the girl out of the car.

"It's time to go home."

The housekeeper stared at her with a very strange look, as if to say: This is what you meant by 'come back soon'.

Rose pursed her lips.

"Don't kill her."

Old Tom pretended not to understand and turned his head to the side: "What?"

"I said, don't kill her."

"Who?"

"Tom!"

"Miss, they are cultists." The butler showed a serious expression for the first time, just like when James Shelley faced his son - the Shelley family never dealt with cultists, nor did they compromise with these monsters.

"I know..." Rose glanced at the 'battlefield' - she was about to be killed by the poison arrows without fighting back.

"But she's useful to me, Tom."

"I don't know what use a cultist would have on you."

"Tom."

Old Tom's eyesight became as sharp as a knife.

Rose greeted him quietly.

Neither of them gave in first.

After a while, the old man sighed.

Same with James.

James was like this when he was young.

"…The cultists of the Black Urn don't die so easily, young lady."

Old Tom muttered something and pointed towards the battlefield.

"In a way, these people's bodies are even more 'difficult to destroy' than the cultists in the Cradle of Flesh and Blood - see."

Rose looked over and gradually showed a look of surprise.

——When the chest and abdomen of the poisonous arrow were torn open by the black-robed man wearing metal gloves, three powerfully beating hearts were revealed.

She could see the wriggling "white patches" in the other's internal organs: they were clusters of maggots. A few maggots the color of cooked egg white were constantly shaken off into the snow, while most of them spit out a colorful mucus like silkworms, slowly and without stopping "mending" the flesh damaged by the poison arrows.

Rose smelled a scent of grass.

Sweet, hydrating scent.

soon.

The black-robed man covered in maggots began to retreat.

The burqa was corroded by the colorful sticky stuff, revealing the shirt underneath.

He stomped his feet violently, and a layer of almost invisible "glass" exploded from his heart, pushing away the maggots on his body in layers and wrapping up the slightly fragile flesh and blood in the mucus.

"Mystic Armor."

Rose murmured.

"Iron Cavalry" Four Rings.

"The Plague is not good at close combat, but it has many ways to make people feel uncomfortable," Old Tom raised his arm and gestured to the man in black robes, who quickly stopped. "I hope you know what you are doing, young lady."

He stared at the girl, as if waiting for a real answer.

Rose saw a hint of pity in those cloudy eyes...

She was not mistaken, because 'that thing' had arrived.

When William brings "that thing" back, "Shelley's Daughter" will face a fork in the road that she can never choose again:
Yes, or no.

As a personal valet and later butler who followed James Shelley all his life, Tom, who stayed out of the matter, saw things much more clearly than his old master.

Lillian Rose Vansittart could not have had Shelley in her blood.

She was not James Shelley's lost daughter.

Maybe the old master was deceived by someone, or because of some force majeure factors...

No matter what.

Even Rose couldn't be.

The treatment she has enjoyed in the past few months - materially and perhaps spiritually.

In short.

This unrelenting love...

It's about to end.

Old Shelley will be in pain, but what about Rose?
Rose was not like the other girls, old Tom knew. This was not a girl who wanted good food and wine and a life of luxury—she wanted 'Old Shelley! I stole your glasses! I won—'

What she wanted was, 'Old Tom, do you have a lover? How many? Tell me about it.'

What I want is 'Hehe, I just love blind people, what do you think?'

What matters is family.

And family love.

When verified by 'that thing', James Shelley...

Can we still give this child what he wants?

Old Tom couldn't hide his emotions and turned his face away silently.

He is also a human being, an old man who is about to die.

What a nice kid...

pity…

He was just a servant, what could he do?

Thinking of this, many "no's" were like frost on the fireplace, melting in those melancholy eyes.

"I will find you a house far away from Shelley... and send someone to watch over him. Miss, you'd better listen to me," Old Tom saw Rose was about to speak again, and raised his finger to interrupt her in advance, "No discussion, Miss. If not... I would never let the Black Jar's followers get close to you... It's too dangerous..."

'How could I harm our Saint?'

The man in black robe picked up the poison arrow, broke its two arms, and sneered without saying a word.

I won't tell anyone.

She looked at Rose and tried to speak with her eyes.

I won't tell anyone, our hope, the saint chosen by Him...

Wait until that day.

You understand your responsibility...

Bang.

The man in black robe punched her hard on the back of the head, knocking her unconscious.

"'If not' - if not what?" Rose was keenly aware of Old Tom's 'abnormality' - he usually didn't hesitate like a girl: "Is Old James 'sick' again?"

The girl looked at him suspiciously, then turned to look at the man in the black robe...

A familiar shadow.