Starting from Toaru Majutsu no Index, take stock of the supreme world of anime!

Page 154

The others were stunned when they heard this.

"What did you say?"

"There are indeed quite a lot of nightingales flying from nearby recently."

Seeing confusion on the faces of others.

Old Whateley had just finished his own business, and before "860" left, he spoke calmly, as if with some emotion.

"They knew my soul was leaving and they didn't want to let it go."

"Boys, when I'm gone you'll all know whether they've got me or not."

"If they succeed."

“They will sing and laugh until dawn.”

"If they don't catch me."

"They will be quiet until dawn."

"I am waiting for them. Perhaps the souls they are searching for still have some strength left to fight them properly."

Say it.

He simply opened the door and walked out.

Only the surprised looks of the others were left.

"What do you mean...it sounds really unlucky."

"Has the old man finally developed Alzheimer's disease? It looks like he doesn't have many years left to live."

At this moment, old Whateley was back on horseback again.

“Da Da—!”

As the sound of horse hooves rang out.

Many nightingales also flapped their wings and flew, accompanying the white-haired old man as if they were waiting for something, and returned to the farmhouse.

At this moment, the expressions of many viewers in the Endless World changed slightly.

Because old Whateley obviously knew something.

But think about it.

If one can believe in such a terrifying existence, one will naturally change.

At this time, new words gradually appeared.

[1924]

Harvest Festival Night

Wilbur rode the remaining horse in the family through the night.

[Dr. Houghton of Aylesbury was called]

The scene changes.

It can be clearly seen in the scene.

The white-haired old Whateley lay on the sickbed, his cloudy pupils looking at the sky, obviously half buried in the grave.

A faint heartbeat and heavy breathing.

All of this indicates that old Whateley's end is not far away.

Dr. Horton tried to confirm the situation with a stethoscope.

He shook his head slightly.

"I'm afraid it's too late. Call the person he wants to see as soon as possible."

"This is probably old Whateley's last hour."

After Mr. Horton finished speaking, he swallowed slightly.

Old Whateley's ugly albino daughter and his grandson with the strange beard were all at his bedside.

But in the room on the second floor above my head.

Yet there were still waves of disturbing slapping or surging, like the tide lapping against the flat beach again and again.

Could it be that some machine broke down?

But what disturbed Dr. Horton most was not this, but the short chirping of the nightjar outside.

"There are too many nighthawks."

"It was as if they were chirping their endless messages over and over in the darkness, devilishly counting the remaining breaths of the dying."

"It's really abnormal!"

Mr. Horton couldn't help muttering in his heart.

At this moment, old Whateley suddenly regained consciousness, stopped his heavy breathing, and opened his cloudy eyes.

He choked and whispered to his grandson.

“Wilbur, it needs more room….”

"That thing grows faster, and it will be ready to serve you soon."

“Remember to chant.”

"Open the gates to Yog-Sothoth with that long hymn!"

"It can be found on page 751 of the complete Necronomicon."

"Then you will light a fire in the prison, and no fire in this world will be able to burn it!"

Old Whateley's roaring voice.

Horton swallowed his saliva and subconsciously took a few steps back.

Old Whateley had evidently gone completely mad!

Mr. Horton couldn't help but think.

At this time.

The large group of nighthawks perched outside the house changed the rhythm of their calls, and at the same time, strange sounds were faintly heard from the mountains in the distance!

"Gu——!"

Then old Whateley half-rose to his feet and stretched out his hand straight before him toward Wilbur.

"Wilbur, remember to feed it on time and pay attention to the dosage."

"Don't let it grow too fast in this place."

"If, before you open the gates for Yog-Sothoth, it destroys the dwelling or escapes, all is over!"

said old Whateley's voice gravely.

There was no fear of death in his eyes, only faith in the unknown being that had existed since his youth.

"Only they from outside can make it flourish and take effect... Only they, the Great Old Ones, are waiting to return..."

"Wilbur...don't forget your mission."

"Cough cough!"

Old Whateley's words.

Once again, he was interrupted by heavy breathing.

Another hour passed before old Walter let out his dying breath.

Outside the window.

The noisy bird calls gradually died down.

Those dark eyes just stared quietly.

Many viewers in the live broadcast room.

After hearing old Whateley's last words, his face became solemn.

Ancient Scholar (Nicole Robin): "...The Great Old Ones are waiting to return. Who are these Great Old Ones? They don't look like Cthulhu."

Fullmetal Alchemist (Edward): "Yog-Sothoth opened the gate... The secret hidden behind this is probably beyond our expectations. Even the Gate of Truth cannot explain it."

Swordsman (Luo Ji): "...It's obvious that the old Whateley family is raising some kind of monster, and this monster is constantly growing in size. It's a pity that the average person in the Cthulhu world won't react."

Honestly.

Old Whateley's hiding was not very clever.

If it were any other world with strange existences, one would definitely notice something was wrong at the first moment.

But in the world of Cthulhu, this is not the case.

The comment section of the live broadcast room was full of discussions

The barrage of comments surged like a tide, and many people focused their attention on the book of the Dead.

On page 751...what exactly is recorded!

Just think about it.

It makes people's curiosity surge in their hearts!

Inside the live broadcast room.

It can be seen that Dr. Horton regards what was just said as crazy talk.

He reached out and closed the dead man's wide-open, gray eyes.