I have a long-lived pawn shop.

The picture froze for a moment, and the next moment, the reflection on the water surface shattered, and the two people rushed towards each other like arrows, and the blades collided with each other, making a sound of metal collision.

A second later, they passed each other, the water surface and the flames by the pool shook violently, pulled by the air waves, like reeds in the wind, falling towards the two figures that collided again.

"Run! Then take the things I gave you before I came and activate the ritual on the stone pillar outside the hall! Embed the crystal into the stone pillar on the right side of the hall!" The priest knocked away the stone thrown by Uriel and turned around to yell.

"Yes... yes...!" The assistant seemed to have just found his tongue, and he tumbled and crawled towards the door. The splashed water soaked his trouser legs, making him look even more embarrassed than the two people fighting in the pool. The assistant gritted his teeth and controlled his lead-filled legs to run, using all his strength, not daring to look back, because he had just experienced the speed of the sect's saint's assault.

The assistant himself had practiced fencing and horse riding, but he couldn't even see the Son's movements, let alone dodge. He saw the figure in the previous moment, and he was locked in the next moment. It seemed that there was no time interval in between.

The ghostly young man! The assistant caught a glimpse of the young man’s eyes. What kind of eyes were they? They were dark without any impurities, yet so calm, as if a soul was drowning in that stagnant water.

Could this thing be the Son of God? I'm afraid even a brutal serial killer would be more approachable than him! After leaving the pool, the assistant felt that his body had regained some warmth. The movement behind him continued, and the Son of God did not break through the priest's obstruction, which greatly increased the assistant's confidence. This was the most upright servant of God that he trusted. No matter whether it was a brutal living weapon or a gloomy altar, it could not break his composure. It was such an adult that made him sincerely believe in the sect of the dead gods. Rather than saying that the assistant believed in the true God, it would be better to say that he worshipped the Deer-Headed Priest.

But the Deer-Headed Priest, who he had high hopes for, did not feel at ease.

Uriel hadn't made any sound since he launched the attack, but Father Deerhorn could still feel that there seemed to be some unstable and dangerous aura hidden in his body, emitting a cold and heavy pressure, as if invisible shackles were tightening little by little, strangling his throat.

In this respect, Uriel is worthy of being the Holy Son of the Tree-Born Sect. He is not on the same level as ordinary psychics. With just a small dagger, the Deer-Headed Priest was completely suppressed. The seemingly thin blade had just cut a notch in the bronze sword in the priest's hand. During the movement, mysterious words twisted in the water waves, the pool water shook, and waves of water rushed up the steps, reflecting the candlelight, like molten gold.

"Wake up, Uriel, think about your agreement with us!" It seemed that one should not talk during a high-speed attack, but this time the priest finally couldn't keep quiet. The strange aura around his opponent was getting heavier, and the priest was just a psychic with enhanced physical strength. He didn't have much chance of winning against the awake Uriel. The only reason they were evenly matched now was because Uriel was not awake and did not use his psychic powers.

"Today is the day you go to meet Eve Lister! Have you forgotten? The Saint of the Silver Moon Church has appeared. We just need to wait..."

However, he was unable to finish his words. A shadow loomed over his head, and the tall priest looked up suddenly, and found that the young man who was just a few meters away from him had appeared above him!

"clang--!!!"

At the critical moment, the Deer Head Priest's bronze sword managed to block the dagger. The sharp blade passed along the neck, leaving an extremely dangerous blood line on the neck.

Uriel's attack failed, and he flipped and adjusted in the air, landing not far away.

He stood there with his head down, his hair falling down to block his eyes, and he was not in a hurry to make the next attack. After a few seconds of silence, a layer of black mist suddenly covered his body, blending into the shadows around him. Against the background of the candlelight, the mist was as thick as liquid, surging in the pool, and like a group of snakes, spitting out their tongues hoarsely and silently.

There was no word, no sound, and even no murderous intent. My mind was blank, with only a few fragmented thoughts. Anger, regret, resentment... When all the negative emotions accumulated together and were about to break through the limit of human mental endurance...

It turns out it is so quiet.

The appearance of the black fog made the priest who was half-kneeling on the ground suddenly alert. He immediately realized Uriel's intention, pressed his palm on the ground, and used the force to jump up from the ground, avoiding the oncoming fog.

The bronze sword he carried with him was wrapped in the mist and tightened. After a moment, the priest heard a cracking sound, and the sword broke into pieces in his hand.

The priest threw away the remaining half of the sword, pointed his right palm at the young man in the nightmare, and shouted: "Wake up! Uriel!"

On the palm of his hand, he had tattooed a ferocious tree with ink, and on it, the name of a god was written in ancient characters. The atmosphere in the hall suddenly changed, as if a divine power really was bursting out from his palm.

Uriel ignored his words. He turned his wrist slightly, and more black mist raised its head like a group of snakes and turned towards the priest. For a moment, the priest felt countless cold gazes converging on him. A dangerous electric current suddenly jumped up his spine, causing his muscles to suddenly tense up. Every muscle contained a power ready to be unleashed.

"boom--"

At this moment, the candle flames by the pool suddenly grew larger. The swirling flames brushed past Uriel's side, and a wisp of black mist collided with the flames, emitting a silent scream, surging in pain, and finally annihilated in the air.

The runes beside the pool emitted a dim light, and together with the stone pillars in the hall engraved with strange patterns, they formed a strange cage. Light blue light spots flowed into Uriel's body, who was in an abnormal state, along the lines, and his movements suddenly stopped.

The priest was relieved that his assistant did not fail at the critical moment. He successfully started the ritual and imprisoned the young man who was deeply affected by the Deathly Hallows. When the Son of God just woke up from his deep sleep, he would be in a "dream" state for a while. This was not the first time that this happened, so he was placed on an empty altar and wrapped in a ritual. His waking state had a lot to do with the dream, but what kind of nightmare could scare Uriel Kaorish? He was the closest to "death" in thousands of years, and the most outstanding Son of God!

The young man woke up from a nightmare in a trance and started coughing violently. The light threads seemed to have absorbed all his strength. The thin Son of God swayed and fell into the pool. The turbulent water hit him. His clothes were wet and stuck to his body like a thin layer of armor.

"Uriel...?" The Deer-Headed Priest called out softly, cautiously not getting closer.

"Ah, Father Dalton," the young man gasped and responded, "I'm sorry to trouble you."

If Uriel looked like a human figure made of ashes in his nightmare state, then now, this ash figure finally has a little weight.

But perhaps because the wet hair blocked his vision, Uriel lowered his eyes the next second, raised his hand, and simply brushed the dripping hair, revealing his forehead. His blond hair was almost white, his eyes were dark, his lips were thin like the sickle of the god of death, his shoulders still looked a little thin, but the whole person seemed like a storm was coming, with an oppressive aura.

"You wake up later and later. If you continue like this, sooner or later you will be trapped in the nightmare and unable to wake up, Uriel. Even if Eve comes back at that time, how can you continue to accompany her?" Father Dalton obviously understood what Uriel really cared about. He stepped forward, handed a hand to the pale young man, and pulled him out of the pool.

"Father, when you want to gain something, you must sacrifice another thing. The doctrine of the Century of Gods says that as long as you believe in God, God will give you everything, as long as you pray. But how can there be love without reason?" Uriel said lightly, "Everything in the world always follows the principle of fairness, and giving and receiving are equal. You help me resurrect Eve, and I help you. If I win enough games, Eve will get good enough treatment. Then the deal is done, and we have nothing to do with each other from now on. Eve's awakening is the future I expect, and it doesn't matter whether I am in that future or not."

Because she is the daughter of the Lister family, one of the snakes lurking at the throat of the Korba Federation, she will live well no matter what.

"Of course, we will definitely accomplish what we promised." The priest released his hand and took out a well-preserved wax envelope from his clothes. "And now, the key to awakening Eve has appeared."

None of them cared where the assistant went. Even though the assistant was a nobleman and had great respect for Dalton, Dalton obviously only regarded him as a tool and had no intention of letting him participate in any further confidential matters.

Uriel was even more straightforward, his contempt reached the extreme level, which was nothing more than "not caring at all".

He took the envelope from Dalton, peeled off the wax and poured out a blurry brown photo. Photosensitive technology has only been popularized in the past twenty years, and the photographic paper washed with black tea is always a little blurry, and only a rough outline can be seen. I don't know which old tabloid it was cut from. Uriel looked at the pair of dark pupils for a pause, and then took out a detailed sketch from the envelope.

On the white paper, a girl in military uniform was sitting quietly in a corner of the garden. Her features were delicate and beautiful beyond description, even transcending the boundaries between men and women. But what caught Uriel's attention was not her appearance, but her eyes. When she raised her eyes, her expression was cold and sharp, as if light was shining through a gem fished out from the bottom of the sea.

In the corner of the sketch, a cursive name was signed: "Abigail de Monty".

Uriel exhaled a breath. Finally, after so long, he was about to reunite with Eve. He finally had the final chance to take her back from fate. As for the girl named Abigail, Uriel stared at her pupils in the photo. The photo was actually a bit overexposed, and the outline was blurred. Only the dark pupils were still clear.

He would kill her and use her as a sacrifice for Eve's resurrection, or he would be killed by her and used as a stepping stone to her own power.

While Uriel made up his mind, Wei Xi, who was in the Perpetual Motion Research Institute, looked up at the distant unknown place with a sense of something. The two of them seemed to be in a folded space-time container, stepping on time, above their heads, and within the walls. The beginning is the end, and the end is the beginning. There is no beginning and no end, and they look at each other in the desolate wasteland.

Waiting for the meeting in the near future, waiting for the fight in the near future, waiting for the ending in the near future.