"No one brought me in, Lord Guderian."

Chryses bent down exaggeratedly like a circus clown, showing a funny and weird smile.

He repeatedly confirmed in a low and smooth voice like talking to himself: "Yes... no one brought me in. No one, no one ever..."

The illusion of something choking his throat appeared in Guderian's mind.

He resisted the inexplicable desire to vomit and took a step back.

"...You're crazy, Chryses."

Guderian's left hand gently rested on the ceremonial knife at his waist, and he no longer concealed his disgust for Chryses: "I will give you one last chance to retreat from the temple immediately. Otherwise, you will be

There’s a price to pay.”

As he spoke, his eyes gradually became as sharp as an eagle's. A silver-white halo shone in his eyes.

"The price? What price?"

Chryses shook his withered body, and his voice gradually became sharp: "What price can I pay! I have nothing left! You traitors can't possibly understand me!"

"Chryses, shut up."

Guderian murmured in a low voice, as if substantial anger surged out of his slightly closed eyes.

But Chryses was not shaken at all.

His rickety body immediately straightened up, as if facing a duel, he concentrated all his strength, and his clenched fists made a crunching sound.

"What did I say wrong? What else do you want to deny!"

Chryses used all his strength and roared in a hoarse voice: "Abandoned the glory of Tire and turned to believe in a mere false god! He is even still walking on the earth, and he lives, grows old, sick and dies like a mortal! Are you shameless?!

"

Chryses's roar was so hysterical that his voice was so hoarse that he could hardly utter it.

But this sound alone was enough to draw the people inside the temple out. Guderian had already heard a series of hurried footsteps coming from inside.

But Chryses didn't shy away at all. He just took a deep breath and angrily shouted again in a clearer voice: "It's time for you to go to hell! Just follow your savior Roland to hell! You guys

Traitor! Coward! Heretic!

"I told you to shut up!"

Guderian was furious and roared like a lion.

The silver-white holy fire in his eyes was so viscous that it overflowed, and a thin layer of holy fire burned on the surface of his body.

As soon as he finished speaking, he immediately appeared in front of Chryses, thrust out his right fist with lightning speed, and immediately penetrated Chryses's chest and came out behind him.

The silver-white holy fire suddenly rose up on Chryses, and his withered body quickly burned like dry firewood. Chryses's body slowly fell backwards and was pulled away from Guderian's arm.

, facing up to the sky, clenching his fists with eyes closed.

Guderian slowly retracted his right hand, the holy fire gradually extinguished, and his right arm was not stained with any blood.

Although theoretically blood and corpses cannot appear in the temple, Guderian no longer cares about these.

If Chryses were allowed to continue living, he might have to say more blasphemous words.

"Such blasphemous words..."

Guderian shook his head, stepped over the body of Chryses with the holy fire burning, and faced the cardinals rushing towards the door.

Now he was going to find an excuse to get the issue over with Chryses.

He just raised his head and saw a hint of panic on the faces of the cardinals.

He was stunned for a moment, and then without hesitation, he patted the holy fire condensed in his hand behind him, and the smell of burnt meat and barbecue came out.

If he was targeting ordinary people, this might be enough to stop the other party's sneak attack. Even if it couldn't kill him, it could at least force him back.

However, Guderian always felt that something was wrong, but he never felt that anything was wrong.

...Isn’t that right? Didn’t you hear the scream?

Guderian immediately felt alarmed, but it was already too late.

The next moment, he saw a withered, slender, refugee-like right hand stabbing out of his chest like piercing tofu, and tearing out his heart.

The strong heart was even beating, almost impossible to grasp.

What's this?

No, why...

Guderian's mind went blank at this moment, and a severe sense of powerlessness emerged from his chest, spread to his brain, and then spread throughout his body. He slowly sank into the darkness, watching the cardinals shouting to him but unable to respond.

Duoduo looked at Guderian whose heart was crushed, with a look of disbelief on his face.

"This is...the undead? No, that's not right..."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

Chryses chuckled, hunched over, and the holy fire on his body gradually extinguished: "The flames can't burn me, and the water can't drown me. Even if my head is cut off, all the bones will be smashed, and my internal organs will be crushed.

And he will never die."

"I am not alone... I am not the only one who has had his faith trampled by Roland and destroyed his daily life. We are the undead from the old era."

"Don't insult the undead!"

Duoduo's face darkened, and his bright red eyes were filled with murderous intent: "Sinner, don't tarnish Cang Yin's name!"

"Cang Yin? Are you talking about the heretics purified by His Majesty Tyr?"

The corners of Chryses' mouth cracked, and his eyes suddenly turned gray. He stretched out his withered right arm and punched Duoduo, who had teleported in front of him.

Compared to Duoduo, his body was incredibly fragile. His bones protruded from his elbows, and his flesh and blood twisted into a ball, making a creaking sound that was unbearable.

However, Duoduo's blow was still blocked after all.

At the same time, silver-gray dust mist poured out from Chryses's wound and suddenly filled the entire room.

When Duoduo smelled the air, his originally fearless face suddenly changed and he quickly retreated.

"This is?!"

"As for the raw material, it is Elkart's undead transformation base fluid."

A calm and gentle voice came from the door.

Duoduo shifted his gaze,

An ordinary-looking middle-aged man walked in with a bland face.

His hair is slightly yellowish silver-white, and his facial features are neither refined nor exaggerated. It seems that his appearance, voice, and age are just about the average level of human beings. ︽2︽2︽.*2ge︽2,

As if explaining how to make lunch, he explained nonchalantly: "I transplanted the strengthened parts of the limbs into the subsequent transformation process, and treated them with the bloodstain syndrome created by Roland. As long as it comes into contact, it will be transformed."

"By the way, in order to prevent stupid infected people from causing trouble for me, I added the function of suppressing thinking and mechanizing thinking to the poisonous mist."

Duoduo's expression at this moment has become extremely ferocious.

His voice was hoarse: "...where did you get these base fluids?"

"Of course I picked it up from the ruins."

The middle-aged man scratched his head, his silver-white pupils exuding a metallic luster, looking particularly cold and ruthless.
Chapter completed!