Mystery: Survival from the Secret Doll

Chapter 391 390 battles

The crimson moon rose from the horizon, the sky darkened, and a brief, dim yellow light enveloped the sky above people's heads. This ray of light was fleeting and would soon be swallowed up by the world ruled by the night.

It was at this moment that the sliver of dim yellow light in the sky froze.

The high-sequence extraordinary beings of the Church of the God of War raised their heads. As demigods of the warrior pathway, the extraordinary beings of the Twilight Giant pathway who were participating in the council before the god clearly sensed that something seemed to have changed at this moment.

It seems their god did something...

Before they could even realize what was going on, a voice rang in their minds.

"good evening."

"Now, I'm going to steal your sun."

There was a sound.

It was like the sound of ancient bells resounding in the sky above San Mirón.

This echo not only enters the eardrums through the vibration of the air, but also comes from the depths of the spirit, from the id consciousness of each individual.

The twilight in the sky remained still, and that sliver of dim yellow light was firmly nailed to the city where night and day intertwined, where a huge, ancient, and mottled clock also appeared.

The people in Saint Milon all looked up at the ancient clock that had suddenly appeared in the sky. Fear, doubt, curiosity, and dread—all these emotions vanished with another chime, as if from the depths of antiquity.

Some of the people wearing monocles unconsciously adjusted their monocles and gave a knowing smile.

"Indeed, this is not a good time."

One of them, Amon, turned his head and looked with a hint of mockery at the middle-aged man beside him who wore a white clergy robe, had eyes as clear as a baby's, and a golden beard.

"So, was this also part of your plan?"

"Is this what you call the torrent of the times, the fabricated narrative?"

Adam ignored Amon's provocative and mocking words. He slightly raised his head, looked at the clock that was bestowing new information upon the spirits of all believers in the God of War, and slowly spoke:
"The tide of the times is unstoppable. We are not the weavers, but merely those who follow the changes of fate and push it forward."

Amon scoffed at this, finding their rambling unbearable: "Fine, say what you want, that's your business."

He turned to the side and looked at the little boy next to Nicholas not far away. He habitually pinched his monocle again, and his expression became a little strange.

Adam noticed the change in Amon's expression and glanced over in return with a calm expression.

Nicholas made no attempt to look back at this former blasphemer, this delusional angel. He removed his black silk hat and, with a cheerful expression, took something out of it, facing Patriarch Larion, who emerged from the Great Hall of Twilight.

It was a thin brass book.

The Book of Terensost, the unique path of the Judge, a Rank 0 relic of the former Church of War, a terrifying relic for which the Church was forced to cede territory to Miskatonic during the War of the Oath.

Using the things that the Church of War once owned to deal with the Church of War now is obviously a very reasonable thing to do.

The brass book was unfolded in front of Nicholas, and Larion, the Grand Patriarch of the Church of War, was ready opposite him.

"The law stipulates that within the realm of the Trentost Brass Book, faith is unbalanced, and everything depends on a predetermined fate..."

In that instant, countless anchor points vibrated.

One by one, they simultaneously pulled a black silk hat from the air beside them, put it on their heads, and smiled, their faces calm but their expressions changing.

One by one, they became incarnations of Nicholas, shadows of the "blasphemers," new anchors, beginning to shake the anchor of the god of war, Badhre. Ultimately, the war of the gods is a war between anchors.

Whoever can shake the other's anchor more deeply will gain a greater advantage.

-

Astral realm.

As the twilight shone brightly, within the divine realm of the God of War, Owen's figure gradually transformed into the likeness of Tang.

The trickery of the mysterious servants and the changes of the faceless man, coupled with the Fool's Mask and the Source Castle's assistance, made it very easy for Badheir to misjudge the target and grab the wrong person.

No, it can't be called a misjudgment of the target.

After all, there is only one chance. Whether it is dealing with Irving or Tang, there is only one chance for them to deliberately expose themselves and give Badhall the opportunity to walk into the trap.

It wasn't Badhair waiting for them, but rather they waiting for Badhair.

Similarly, it wasn't him who chose who to arrest, but rather Don and Irving who chose to be targeted by Badhair.

For Badhair, war doesn't necessarily mean victory.

But if we don't fight, the only path we can take is a slow death.

Everything was a result arranged by fate, and the ending was revealed from the very beginning.

But the god of war, Badhel, is not afraid of battle.

The dim, yellow light transformed into a sword of dawn that seemed to melt the entire world, falling from the sky.

Disguised as Owen, Tang, who led the Source Castle into the God of War's Kingdom, removed his black silk hat. This hat, which borrowed the unique power of the Thief's Path and was pulled out from the gap of history, was used by him to meet the giant sword phantom composed of twilight falling from the sky.

Inside the hat was a divine kingdom composed of errors. The dim yellow light was rapidly absorbed by the hat, and Tang's figure appeared. Suddenly, bursts of dark blue light erupted from his body, and a door opened from behind Badhall.

The authority of the Source Castle allows Tang, as the King of Angels, to also mobilize the extraordinary abilities of the "Gate" pathway next door.

He weaved through the dim light and appeared directly behind Badhall.

Another black silk hat appeared in Tang's hand. He grasped the brim of the hat and returned the power, which was filled with dim yellow light, directly to Badhall.

The mysterious servant's grafting ability returned Badhair's power, which had been lingering within the erroneous divine realm.

The altered power of twilight shows no mercy just because the enemy is its source.

The dim light instantly filled the entire world. Tang put his hat on his head and his figure flashed away.

The moment he left, a spatial rift appeared where he had been.

A storm of beams of light tore through that space, and the torn spaces led one after another to unknown worlds.

Badhall's figure flashed into view, and the next moment His body froze.

The spiritual thread drifted toward a distant, unobservable area, and without hesitation, Badheel unleashed another storm of light upon it.

At the same time, beneath their feet, the vast ocean composed of countless sunsets surged with monstrous waves.

(End of this chapter)