Mystery: When the Fool Meets the Masked Fool

Chapter 532: Lancers Have Good Luck Since Ancient Times
At this moment, Larion also had numerous wounds on his body, emanating an aura of death.

He just cast the Shield of Glory on Medici, helping him withstand a small portion of the damage.

But even as He began to speak, His body was aging rapidly, His skin was soon covered with wrinkles, age spots appeared, and putrid fluid oozed out.

In just a few blinks, Larion aged to the point where he seemed to be about to vanish from the face of the earth.

Then, He truly turned into a completely rotten liquid and evaporated completely.

Squeak.

The door opened in a burst of dawn-like light.

Larion, having completed his rebirth, returned to his room.

Both of them were unsurprised by the way the other had given birth.

Especially Larryon.

Larion knew, of course, that Medici wasn't so easy to kill. After all, when he first checked Medici's stats, he saw that Medici's "Durability" was the highest of all attributes, representing the immeasurable EX stat.

He even suspected that Medici might have been scared because he had died once before, and had put all his skill points into durability.

Medici shook his head, calming the restless spirit within him.

Larion looked at Him, remaining silent and not uttering a word.

Under His watchful gaze, He saw Medici's Noble Phantasm slowly change from A+++ to EX.

Class: Lancer.

Strength: A++, Magic Power: A+++, Endurance: EX, Luck: E, Agility: A+++, Noble Phantasm: EX.

Larion nodded.

Not bad.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, their group should have the highest overall combat strength besides the Rider group.

This good fortune made Him slightly worried.

However, He felt it was harmless; for true powerhouses, luck wasn't actually that important.

Anyway, He has been dealing with those extraordinary beings who play with misfortune in the Church of the Night for nearly a thousand years.

I've long been used to it.

As for the Rider group...

He believed that the ancient sun god would not be very interested in the Holy Grail.

It's just a children's game.

As his thoughts multiplied, rotting patterns reappeared on Larion's body.

"Hey, big oaf. Are you about to lose control?" Medici's voice rang in his ear. "Could it be that my so-called E-rank luck is just the misfortune of having a collaborator like you?"

These words ignited the anger in Larion's heart, bringing together his scattered thoughts.

It turned into "tearing that stinking mouth apart".

But the next moment, Medici dispelled the angelic-level "provocation," and the anger in Larion's eyes instantly cooled down as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over it.

He took a deep breath and then exhaled forcefully.

"call……"

"Thank you."

He gave thanks from the bottom of his heart.

As the Church of the God of War was destroyed, His anchors dwindled every day.

Three months later, almost all of His original followers had converted. This would lead to an extremely unstable state for Him.

Even the newly resurrected Medici has his own descendants, descendants of the original Red Army of War, and some people who believe in the "God of War" to provide faith.

But He did not.

"Your immediate priority is to acquire some anchors, not to continue spreading the name of the God of War as you are doing now."

"Maybe... I mean maybe. If your brain isn't completely ruined yet, you should find some believers. That might slow down the deterioration of your brain."

“There’s no need for that,” Larion said in a low voice.

"I can hold on for at least three more years."

"During this period, as long as the Holy Grail War ends, everything will be over."

The former Patriarch of the Church of the God of War became increasingly solemn: "The fall of the God is only temporary; He will eventually return and be revived from within me."

"All I need to do is use the Holy Grail to accelerate my progress..."

“I think you can understand me.” Larion pulled up a chair and sat down. “That ancient sun god, I think He is the one you want to follow.”

“Then that’s your freedom. I won’t try to twist your thoughts. After all, I’m not the Black Emperor.” Medici shrugged. “But you’re right, I can understand you.”

"As for whether I will truly follow the Lord again..." Medici sat directly on the mattress-less bed board, the flames on his body long since extinguished, preventing the entire room from igniting.

“I don’t know,” He said.

“However… if the Lord truly has no interest in the Holy Grail, then I will help you seize it. But if the Lord is truly interested in the Holy Grail, then I will not continue to interfere in this war after the other groups are dealt with.” Medici extended his fist, aiming it at Larion.

"After all, this is a [contract]."

“Ha.” Larion chuckled. “I don’t even know what I was thinking when I made a pact with a top-tier schemer.”

"Maybe I really have gone mad."

He raised his hand and bumped fists with Medici.

…………

Backlund, St. Clyne Church.

Russell replied to Xing's message.

Your emperor: "Simple."

Your emperor said: "You can try to coexist with him, or bring in external pollution. Be both antagonistic and integrated with him, both distant and inclusive."

Your emperor: "Of course, there is an even simpler 'optimal solution'."

Your emperor: "I'll help him distort and anchor the information then."

Your Emperor: "Go borrow the [Anti-Despair Equation] from Mr. World again; it's absolutely effective."

Your emperor: "Don't talk about destruction or command. Before he was fully born, he was just an incomplete piece of data."

Your emperor: "I can barely defeat a weaker envoy, a nascent consciousness is nothing."

amount……

Xing stroked her chin.

It feels like I'm setting a flag for myself.

I'll ask Amon another day.

Ask the all-knowing and all-powerful ancient sun god.

(End of this chapter)