Tisara just stood there, her overwhelming voice stagnating as if it had stopped.

The sudden incident made the high priest Death in a state of madness widen his eyes incredibly:

"How, how is it possible! My power... The love of the witch, how can it be by a little girl who is not dry... It's impossible, it's impossible!"

The high priest of Death Words opened his mouth and trembled all over:

"But just this little girl can't stop the witch from pampering me! I, I am the one chosen by the witch! Simon, who blasphemed the witch, must die here today."

After hearing the words of the Dead High Priest, Simon was somewhat speechless.

Maybe this is a psychopath.

He had already told him that the person in front of him was Tisara, but the high priest still showed his unintelligence.

However, compared to Simon's thoughts, Tisara frowned her slender eyebrows and spoke in a very disgusting tone:

"I don't remember that I've given you a pampering..."

"No, no, don't insult my belief in the Witch anymore!"

Before Tisara could finish her words, the high priest in front of her had already interrupted her.

His expression was twisted, his fingers pulled his face hard, and sharp and angry words emanated from his mouth:

"Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it! Although I don't know what trick you, a little girl, use to pinch my power, I will definitely kill you! I want to dedicate your soul to Lord Witch!"

“…” Tisara.

"I'm the witch..."

Tisara's mouth moved.

Then it was interrupted again.

"Shut up! You blasphemer who pretends to be a witch!"

“…” Tisara.

Tisara gradually became expressionless.

"My faith in the Witch and my love for the Witch will never lose to you little tricks."

His upper body was overwhelmingly leaning back, while stretching out his skinny fingers to Simon and Tisarra.

"Go! The witch's pampering! The power of the dead words..."

Paji!

The twisted voice of atrophy came to an abrupt end.

The body of the Death-Yu High Priest fell heavily on the ground, and his brain matter flowed everywhere.

His head was beautifully cut into two halves by Death.

"...I hate people who always interrupt me...except Simon." Tisara retracted her fingers and frowned.

At this moment, the twisted purple and black air flow was lingering obediently at her fingertips.

That is the power of the "Dead Word" that originally belonged to the High Priest of Dead Word.

The Eternal Night Witch Tisara is a witch who controls countless powers in the long-standing legend.

The power of "Dead Word" was just a small branch of the power she had in charge at the time.

As the real master of the power of "Dead Speech", it is natural to control what belongs to her.

"Tisara, you won't forget our plan, right?" Simon's unemotional voice rang behind her.

"Using the power of Death Word to control the corpse of the Death Word High Priest, and obtain information from the other four High Priests with the help of the witch believers of the Death Word faction."

Seeing that Tisara in front of her didn't say anything, Simon added.

"Of course I remember this plan." Tisara's big black eyes turned and she stretched out a finger: "But Simon, you should also know that plans can never keep up with changes. And the things in front of her are when plans should be changed."

Looking at Tisara's expression that was not righteous and strong, Simon just asked back: "Do you want to get away with it?"

"Yes!" Tisara nodded vigorously.

She admitted without hesitation, and obviously knew that she could not hide it from Simon.

call...

Simon let out a breath, and he glanced at Tisara, without saying anything too much.

After all, things have happened, and it is meaningless to blame the witch.

Staring at the corpse of the Dead High Priest on the ground, Simon thought for a while and said:

"Transfer the power of deceased to me, Tisarah."

"Well? Do you like this kind of power that cannot be used as a prestigious person? Although it doesn't matter to me."

Tisara glanced at Simon in a weird way.

But she didn't hesitate. With a flash of her snow-white finger, the purple-black power of speech completely disappeared into Simon's body.

In an instant, Simon felt something more in his mind.

The scenery in front of you has become completely different.

Simon reached out his hand forward.

The power of speech, like purple and black flames, jumped in the palm of his hand.

Tisara's explanation sounded in her ears:

"Power does not fall into the category of 'martial arts' and 'divine arts'. It also does not require practice, just like the instinct of human beings that need to eat."

"Power is similar to instinct. When you want to activate it, it will naturally be activated according to your mind."

but--

"Sure enough, the power of 'Death Word' is really disgusting, and I don't want this power at all."

Tisara curled her lips.

"Compared to that..." Simon turned his head and looked around and whispered: "It's coming."

The moment the words fell.

The shadows in the four corners of the study gradually squirmed.

One by one, the witch believers in rough black and red robes crawled out of the shadows.

They raised their heads stiffly and mechanically, and then they saw the corpse lying in the study.

That was the body of the High Priest of Death.

The witch believers were all stunned, and then they turned their heads neatly to look at Simon.

The cold and resentful gaze could be felt even through the hood Simon.

Simon originally wanted to take a look at Tisara beside him.

As a result, the moment he turned his head, he found that Tisara had disappeared without knowing when she had disappeared.

Alas, is there any help?

Simon breathed a sigh of relief in his heart.

Next second—

Simon's originally calm expression became distorted and crazy, while cruel and violent voice lines were squeezed out of his throat:

"Ahhhh! The witch's pampering! I feel the witch's pampering!"

The power of speech unknowingly distorted and clung to the surroundings.

This sudden situation stunned the witch believers who were planning to take action.

Why does Simon the Blasphemer...have the power of the Deadly Word High Priest?

Could it be...?

"That's right!" Simon pulled his face, his already twisted face even more twisted.

The crazy laughter like a demon... No, the crazy laughter than a demon was released from Simon's mouth:

"The blasphemer Simon's ** is under my control! Ah... feel it! This is the fragrance of sinners! This is the best sacrifice to the witch! For the witch's old sect!"

The saliva was flying, the eyes were bulging, and Simon's originally handsome face looked like a madman.

Next moment—

All the crazy and crazy expressions were curbed, and Simon looked at the believers around him in a cold tone:

"Celebrate."

This too contrasting image made the witch believers around them tremble and took a few steps back.

Paji!

One of the witch believers' heads were cut off by the power of death, and the body fell heavily.

At the same time, Simon's extremely cold and cruel voice:

"I want you to celebrate. Praise the name of the witch! Praise the name of the high priest in my deceased words!"

Bloody, brutal, ruthless, crazy...

Feeling Simon's gaze, the witch believers looked at each other, and then applauded Simon in the middle of the study.

Slap sex!

They looked at Simon frantically, and clapped violently.

This is undoubtedly their high priest.
Chapter completed!