Secret: The years I served as a foreign aid for the Aurora Club

Chapter 141 Drowning in the Past

365
In the half-collapsed temple, only a few stone pillars are still intact, supporting a small part of the main hall.

At the front of the main hall stood a cracked altar, with a huge black cross standing in the center.

On the cross, there was a naked man hanging upside down. His ankles, thighs, and body had obvious rusty iron nails exposed, accompanied by bright red bloodstains.

The "Fallen Creator" closed his eyes tightly, as if he was bearing the guilt and pain.

——Before today, although Silver City had discovered many destroyed cities and some written records pointing to the evil god during previous explorations, most residents had never seen the so-called evil god statue.

However, looking directly at the statue of the evil god could often be dangerous, so everyone avoided its sight after a brief observation.

The remaining part of the temple on the ground was not very wide, and the exploration team quickly completed the inspection in groups of two or three, but did not find anything unusual.

Seeing this, Colin, the chief of the "Six-member Council", pondered for a few seconds and said:
"Head underground."

As he spoke, he quickly drew out one of the two swords on his back and smeared a silver-gray ointment on it.

Then he took out a small metal bottle from the secret compartment of his belt, pulled out the stopper, and drank the potion inside.

At this moment, Derrick felt that the Chief's light blue eyes seemed to have become brighter.

The members of the exploration team made the most careful preparations one after another, and under the illumination of four animal skin lanterns, they walked along the stairs on the left side of the statue, step by step, towards the underground area.

Derrick took his turn holding the lantern, walking in front on the left, and cautiously going deeper into the darkness.

He heard the footsteps of himself and his companions spreading out from the surface of the stone steps, creating a distant and empty echo.

The echo was not disturbed at all, indicating the absolute silence below. However, in the minds of the members of each exploration team, it was like a knock on the door, trying to unlock a secret that had been buried for who knows how many years, and this made them have to be extremely tense.

After walking for an unknown amount of time, Derrick finally saw the road ahead become flat, and he also saw the newly discovered murals described by the polluted Dak Riggins.

Those murals are spread out in large patches on the walls on both sides, with simple paint applied, making them look old, weathered and dull.

Derrick took a casual look and was attracted by one of the murals:

On the wall in the front left, a white cross stood in the center, surrounded by the black sea water, drowning many humans who were struggling to stretch out their arms.

On the cross was the "Fallen Creator" hanging upside down, with rusty nails and bloody stains that were no different from the idols in the outside world.

But in this mural, the "Fallen Creator" is being eroded by black, so that parts of the white cross have become dark.

Beyond that, the cross supports a hazy land, with countless humans kneeling down to pray to the "fallen creator."

Around the screen, in the deepest darkness, there are six evil god-like figures hidden.

In the upper left corner is a girl wearing a classical black dress. Her clothes are layered but not complicated, and are inlaid with many star-like radiances. Her body is rather blurred, with signs of ripples spreading outwards. Her face is blurred, as if she is wearing a mask without facial features.

Around her, darkness was surging and strange eyes were looming.

Directly above was a young man in a pure white robe, his face was painted pure gold, and he had glowing tentacles growing out of it.

In his hands, he held a rotten green book and a spear made of radiance, respectively, with their positions reversed on his chest and vest.

In the upper right corner is a monster holding a trident. It has an octopus-like head, wide-open eyes, and lightning wrapped around its body.

The feathers of countless birds formed its cloak, and the darkness became waves, supporting its feet.

In the lower right corner is a plump and graceful lady with a bulging chest and naked outside her clothes. In her arms is a baby with a rotten face. Under her feet are black ears of wheat, springs wriggling with pieces of meat, herbs oozing with pus, and animals mating wildly.

Directly below is an old man wearing a hood, revealing his mouth, wrinkles and white beard.

The old man holds an open book with an eye above it symbolizing omniscience.

At first glance, this old man seems to be the most normal, but the smile on his lips has an indescribable evilness.

In the lower left corner is a giant warrior wearing tattered armor, holding a long sword and sitting on a throne, with a desolate dusk in the background.

The meaning of this mural is that when the great catastrophe comes, the evil gods crawl out of the abyss. In order to save the world, the "Fallen Creator" bears most of the guilt and pain, and as a result, his symbols are eroded and his image changes... However, I think He is the greatest evil god... Derrick carried a fur lantern and walked while looking at the murals on the wall. He found that it was basically consistent with Dak Riggins' description. The core theme was that the area was not abandoned by the gods, but was blessed by the "Creator" and maintained civilization in the doomsday.

Of course, Dacre Riggins had only been briefly mentioned before, and the details were far less detailed than those presented in the mural itself.

Throughout the entire process, Derrick did not let down his guard. Learning from his previous experience of being stunned, he was always on guard against accidents and was prepared to respond immediately.

In the dim candlelight, the exploration team passed through corridors, halls, and rooms, going deep into the underground area of ​​the temple.

Suddenly, a half-open gray stone door appeared in front of them.

366
After dinner, Klein put on his coat and hat and prepared to go out.

He was going to find Miss Sharon to solve the problem of a certain baronet digging a tunnel, and by the way, ask for clues about the mermaid, striving to complete this matter before Detective Sherlock Moriarty went south for "vacation".

Although the place was empty and the baronet's life was unimportant, Raft Pound knew nothing about it. He had some secrets that even Klein could not know through spiritual communication. Perhaps he could take this opportunity to find out.

…………

The night bells rang quietly, as if coming from a very far away place.

There was an abandoned chapel in the middle of Williams Street, with dead vines crawling all over the walls and gray stones falling everywhere.

Inside the chapel, excrement and debris were mixed together, with piles of stones and dead grass alternating.

In a half-collapsed corner, a middle-aged man in black tight clothes moved the stone covering the cave entrance, and carrying digging tools, lighting equipment and a basket for transporting soil, he carefully but excitedly entered the tunnel.

He had gray hair on his temples and puffy bags under his eyes. He was Baron Rafter Pound, who was believed to have mental illness, and a hidden descendant of the Tudor family of the Fourth Epoch. This dandy who was always entangled with high-class call girls had a serious expression and bright eyes at this time, and there was no sign of him indulging in alcohol and sex.

He supported himself with his elbows and crawled quickly downward, as if the end of the tunnel contained the greatest and only hope of his life.

Before long, he touched the cold stone in front of him.

This did not extinguish Raft Pound's enthusiasm. He was well prepared and groped and dug around. Suddenly, he knocked over something, which caused a chain reaction. The balance in the tunnel was suddenly broken, and the indestructible sand and rocks in front of him suddenly collapsed. There was a void in front of him, the smoke and dust dissipated, and a dark underground palace appeared.

The huge collapse seemed to be calculated, and did not affect the tunnel he was hiding in. The huge underground space that suddenly appeared was three meters high, enough for people to walk normally.

At the end of the sight, a faint fire suddenly lit up, like an invitation.

Luft Pound's expression suddenly became crazy with excitement. He struggled to crawl forward and leave the narrow tunnel, his elbows bleeding. When he landed, he reached into his pocket and took out a black iron emblem.

There was a hand holding a scepter on the emblem, which made Rafter Pound's eyes shine as if they were burning.

He solemnly put the black iron emblem on his chest, straightened his chest, and walked quickly towards the place where the fire was.

Along the way, there were countless ancient objects that appeared due to landslides, irregular candlesticks with exquisite workmanship, doors with patterns carved by knives and axes, and tables and chairs that still showed ancient and rough patterns after a thousand years of silence... Raft Pound was surrounded by these things, walking step by step towards the end of the fire.

The dark and heavy ceiling of the underground palace was broken, and the huge chandelier was only supported by an iron chain, hanging diagonally above. The huge hole was like an eye, looking down at the descendants of Tudor who entered this place.

Step by step, heading towards heaven or hell, Raft Pound had never felt that this road of more than 100 meters was so long.

Finally, he came to the front of the fire and saw a blood-red candle burning quietly on the huge black high-backed chair that looked like a throne.

——The candlelight lit up, and the lights opened the curtain of the palace.

All the ruins, debris, and relics disappeared, shadows spread to the blind spots of vision, blood covered the charred corridors, and the red and black curtains moved without wind. When the figure on the throne opened his eyes, the palace was instantly conquered by the iron law of fire and blood.

Spanning a thousand years, the glory that the Tudor family pursued finally appeared in Raft Pound's eyes.

The Mad King wears iron armor, and the Red Priest, symbolizing war, wears a white robe over the black iron armor. I guess when He returns triumphantly, the blood of His enemies and enemy gods will dye the white robe a red that matches Him.

He was silent, he stared, his eyes moved down a little, and then fell on the descendant who was kneeling at the bottom of the stairs with a divine mercy. The Blood Emperor replaced words with silence, and turned his plain and cold smile into a beheading knife, so the ministers could only continue to increase the stakes for their lives in fear.

Just like at this moment, the back of the down-and-out descendant seemed to be burned by a branding iron, and blood was surging.

The silence was deep and long, like the quietest eve of death. The Blood Emperor seemed to exist only to be a statue, a symbol, a miniature of a dynasty. Anyway, there were many people who would respectfully and humbly call on that name, madly chasing after the shadow of the past, crawling forward and stretching out their arms just to be qualified to kiss the small shadow under the throne of the gods.

Luft Pound Tudor knelt on the ground devoutly. He had prepared for decades and exhausted his entire life's courage to come here. He had countless ambitions and lofty words in his heart, but they were all turned to ashes in front of the real Blood Emperor. He didn't even dare to make a slightly louder breath.

What's the point of meeting the Blood Emperor, a stray dog ​​with only my blood?

The Blood Emperor, Alistair Tudor, asked the question but did not wait for an answer. He stood up from the throne and walked down the stairs, leaving a vast sea of ​​fire and scorch marks along the way. The corner of his clothes brushed past Raft Pound's shoulder, and the latter lost the right to use this arm forever - it turned into black ash and floated everywhere, the broken end was like black charcoal, and the blood vessels were blocked by the high temperature, boiling away all the blood that wanted to spill out.

Miraculously, Luft Pound did not feel much pain, so he regarded it as a gift from his ancestors. He used his remaining arm to maintain balance, swayed to his feet, and hurriedly followed the long-cherished wish of his family that had gone far away.

They seemed to be stepping on the magic of time. Behind them, the flames of the candlesticks suddenly soared, engulfing the entire underground palace and merging into the sea of ​​fire spread by the footsteps of the Blood Emperor. In front of them, the light and shadows changed, and the flat ground became stairs, which spiraled up. The emperor climbed up the tower, followed by Raft Pound, who was radiant, had crazy eyes, and felt younger than ever.

The tower, which is used in fables, myths and even murals, means ascending to heaven.

The emperor of the mortal world climbed to the top step by step and finally became an immortal god.

Tudor's bloodline followed their ancestors onto the high platform, leaned over and looked down. The land beneath their feet was in their sight. Roads and iron laws extended to the end of their sight. People as small as ants came and went in matchbox-like houses, and the emperor stood in the sky, gazing indifferently at this huge empire.

Raft Pound observed the glory of his family thousands of years ago, felt the courage and courage to hold everything in the world in the palm of his hand, and when he felt his heart surging, he found that his ancestors had already turned their eyes away from the earth.

He was looking into the distance - a very far distance, behind the fog and mountains, there were lightning flashing in the night sky, and the crimson moon and the sun hung in the sky together. The land seemed rich and sacred, flowing with a brilliance that made people want to kneel down.

The Blood Emperor Alistair's gaze was as sharp as a sword, pointing directly at the sacred place.

Seeing this scene, Luft Pound suddenly felt his blood boiling, his fingers trembling violently, and his teeth chattering uncontrollably due to excitement.

According to the ancient records of the Tudor family, the ancestors of the family once occupied half of the northern continent and were enemies of the gods!

He then looked towards the distance of the mountains and suddenly saw a large army fighting.

The army holding the flag of the Tudor Empire collided with the Red Army. The army of flames was unstoppable, brave and good at fighting. They used chariots and military formations to cut the army into many small pieces and defeated them one by one. Their tactics were pure and their strength was strong, but they lacked a key commander. Although Tudor's army became more and more courageous, it was still difficult to break through the enemy's tacit formation.

At this moment, a fiery color suddenly appeared on the horizon. A blood-red figure brought a divine fire that devoured everything from afar. The clouds made of bones were forced to give way and make way. Even the dark throne in the sky had to temporarily avoid the edge.

The flaming army was in turmoil, praising the God of War's entry, but they did not expect the Tudor Empire's army to erupt in even fiercer voices:
Long live the Blood Emperor! Long live Alistair! Long live the Red Priest!

At this point, the invincible army is about to suffer a defeat so horrific that no one will survive.

Raft Pound suddenly found himself in the army of the Blood Emperor, with a red flag of "The Hand Holding the Scepter" flying above his head. Wave after wave of fanatical and fierce shouts filled his ears. Chains as hot as fire linked their spirits. He was instantly infected by the fanatical and terrifying atmosphere, and rushed towards the defeated Red of War with a roar.

The flames swept everything, leaving behind charred iron-like soil. They melted the throne made of black iron, dried up the rivers where the dead wandered, burned down order and all laws, and the iron-blooded law dominated the entire continent, and the gods disappeared.

The celebration banquet lasted for several days, with an inexhaustible supply of fine wine, and delicious dishes were served one after another. The revelry would last forever. Raft Pound was in the middle of it, celebrating and toasting with the soldiers, making the banquet never stop, and couldn't help laughing with extreme joy. He looked out the window into the distance, and there stood a tall tower symbolizing imperial power on the earth, and the clouds on the horizon were red. This was forever,
He closed his eyes and indulged in the beauty of the moment.

……

In the dark and gloomy palace ruins, the short candle burned out and turned into a wisp of green smoke on the black iron throne.

Just two or three steps in front of the throne, Raft Pound was lying on his side, his eyes wide open, an almost insane smile frozen on his face.

He died in that extremely crazy and extremely beautiful dream, and stopped breathing in great happiness.

Around him, extraordinary characteristics have already emerged.

A figure with blood-red hair emerged from the shadows behind the throne. He picked up the black Lawyer Path Extraordinary Characteristics with one hand, tossed it in his hand nonchalantly, then bent down and carefully observed Raft Pound's expression.

After a few seconds, Medici stood up and said with a smile of approval:

"After all, he is a bit like that madman."

TBC
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Finally it’s here, the plot I’ve been looking forward to for a long time.

128-366: The last descendants of Tudor who drowned in their fantasy glory.

It's not a big problem to skip around while reading the article, but if you read this article and don't read the Black Emperor Roselle, the Red Angel who lights the match, the Red Ghost who ridicules the descendants of Tudor, the typist's learning process, or the old man and Xiaocha playing cards and chatting...if you don't read this section, and don't read the other plots that I have carefully crafted, then you will be missing out!
(End of this chapter)