He didn't move fast, it was almost as if he was playing in slow motion compared to the Pactors.
But his movements were so silent that he disappeared into the darkness of the night without a single sound.
At the moment Sherlock's figure disappeared, the old man, who had just relaxed his mind, suddenly trembled and seemed to have discovered something, staring into the depths of the rolling thick smoke with a look of disbelief.
In the sky, a bolt of lightning flashed by in a most untimely manner.
The old Priest Lord's aged body suddenly erupted into a wild roar!
"Execute !!!!!"
Without warning.
I wonder who he's going to make run?Where?How?Why?
He wasn't even sure if he really wanted to say the word 'run', it could be that at this moment, he could only reflexively condense all his words and shocks into a single, random pronunciation.
But he was still too slow.
In the midst of the smoke, a withered figure suddenly appeared, drenched in blood, like a withered branch swaying helplessly in a torrential downpour.
But the speed of that figure was so blocky, so fast, that it surpassed people's thinking, just the sight of its tiny body, seeing its hand holding a pitch-black, one-meter-long spike, making a throwing posture toward the high sky.
Unhelpfully, all this was just an image after the light was shot into the pupil, but no one's brain could make any reaction.
"Bang!" was the sound.
The blood-sparkling slender arm erupted with unimaginable power until it made a popping sound in the air, a sound caused by the strange force pumping the air, and the spike in his hand was like a pitch-black light that instantly pierced through the entire street, and at the moment when everyone couldn't make a shocked expression, it had already penetrated the huge vine plant above the bell tower.
There was another "Bang!" There was a loud bang, and the spore sac in the middle of the plant instantly exploded, and the black-green sap inside that stuck to you was like a disgusting firework!
At almost the same time, Catherine, who was standing on the side, fell to her knees and spat out a large amount of blood from her mouth.
But that wasn't all, because as the explosion spread, the alien's body had already rushed out of the smoke and jumped straight at the defenseless old priestess.
Only then did the thunderclap and rain fall from the sky, and only then did some of the people who hadn't reacted fast enough finally get a good look at the figure!
It had to be Lord Baldur, for he still wore the tattered blood-red deacon's robes, but his appearance had completely changed.
It could even be said that only the most basic bones and skin remained, the original robust muscles had completely disappeared, only vaguely in the wide sagging robes could be seen the outline of some body, and matched with his dry bones is that the scalp hung down from the head, as well as the bright red protruding horror of the eyeballs.
When the old priest-lord saw the other party in such a form, his eyes burst into tears for the first time, as he unbelievably thought of a possibility: the reason why the other party could still unleash such a terrifying killing power in such a near-death situation, could it be because......he was sacrificing everything he had?.
Of course, everything mentioned here included muscles, internal organs, spiritual energy, and even the lives of his contracted creatures, all of which he still possessed now; it was also because of this kind of sacrifice that the muscle tissues of his entire body were all turned into crazy nutrients in no time at all, causing him to fade to the extreme, even to the terrifying extreme.
And this kind of form and spirit sacrifice comes from the Holy See, which, together with the [Academy of Life Sciences], has developed a kind of medicine.
It is extremely precious, and it is rumored that only the most devout clergy can obtain it.
But wasn't this potion still in development?
Why would Badr have a bottle in his possession?
Did he steal it? Or did he get it quietly through some contacts, or did he even say that he was willing to use himself as an experiment?
The old priest could not even guess, in short, this sudden change was completely out of his expectations.
For this very reason, the old priest, although shocked, could only stare wide-eyed as a reflex when he saw that bizarre and twisted thin body approaching him in an instant.
This body was too pitiful, too thin, burning up all its nourishment in a desperate attempt to kill, so it didn't have any extra strength to protect itself, but it was such a body that as long as it touched the priest the moment he touched it, the priest would surely be pierced and shattered instantly! Then the remaining insane power would drive this withered body to do everything it could to slaughter and destroy all the life around it, until it itself was shattered to pieces.
Everything happened so quickly, in fact, up until this moment, the heavy rain had just crossed the gap between the sky and the ground, crackling down on the long street and swirling the plasma all over the ground into puddles of foul-smelling sludge.
No one could have expected this outcome, and of course no one was prepared for it.
Catherine wasn't, nor was the old Priest Lord, nor were all the surrounding ecclesiastical guards.
......Wait a minute!
There seems to be one person who did.
......
Only a faint sound could be heard in the rain curtain.
It was the sound of a bullet being fired, a shot that was so crisp and pleasant under the furious roar that had just gone on and on.
The inconspicuous bullet passed through the entire street, through the smell of blood everywhere, through the wreckage and churned-up flesh of several racks of steam armor, shattering a few drops of rainwater along the way, before finally hitting the chest of the slender body that had arrived in a flash and crashing down with a solid thud!
There wasn't much noise at that moment, and Deacon Bardell didn't even scream.
This was because after he had swallowed the potion, his mind was also part of the sacrifice, so it was almost incapable of feeling pain at this point.
But since there was no solid muscle as a buffer and protection, the impact of the bullet collided nakedly with its own terrifying speed, a moment of recoil made the withered figure stumble violently, and the subtle deflection under the high-speed movement, like a speeding train that suddenly derailed, rumbled and overturned, and then tumbled crazily in the sticky and greasy plasma all over the ground.
And on the other side of that rain screen stood Sherlock with his gun, his originally disheveled hair washed and cascading down his cheeks, the cold night wind freezing his face to a ghastly white.
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