Chapter 775

On the other side of the team, Lucius antros, a young think-tank, followed by joselius, was originally an archangel face, which could be regarded as a model of the regiment - unfortunately, the ferocious scar occupying half of his face was a monument on the Holy Grail hanging from his waist, The left armor is equipped with an arm first aid device - this cluster of ferocious chain saws and drill bits helped arbinur save the lives of many brothers in crisis and recover the genetic seeds of countless dead soldiers.

The blood slaves standing around looked at arbinur with respect, even comparable to Dante.

It is rumored that sooner or later, arbinur will be promoted to the supreme Holy Blood priest to replace the legendary soldier cobro who has served for 500 years and become the holder of the bright red Holy Grail.

The team stopped at the top of the mountain and paid tribute to the standing honorary guards.

It was not until the scraping of armor woke Mephisto from his meditation that he realized that his soul had already wandered beyond the clouds.

He followed Dante through the vault. There used to be an abandoned church on the mountain. Now, thirty cold bodies are displayed in the middle of the resting place of the church dome: they are stripped of their armor, and their strong and far more exaggerated muscles are wrapped in red and gold brocades.

Arbinu took the lead and confirmed that everyone's genetic seed had been removed - it would be kept properly and continue to contribute to the regiment.

This is part of the ritual. The operation was completed soon after the soldiers died.

Then arbinur took off the silk wrapping the body, and the bitter smell of chemicals filled the narrow church.

Symbolically examined the cold body and whispered a few eulogies. Arbinur wrapped the brocade back, stepped back and nodded to Dante.

As Dante stepped forward, the beautiful movement played by the four cloth speakers spread far into the wilderness.

The blood slaves knelt down one after another, put their hands together and began to pray piously.

Dante took the scroll held by the blood slave, and the finger movement on the flying pages stopped abruptly in the most appropriate chapter.

He cleared his throat. As soon as he wanted to say something, he swallowed back his words and looked back at Mephisto.

"Dian Ji official."

The echo distorts Dante's timbre.

"Would you like to take them on the last trip yourself?"

Mephisto stared at the bodies wrapped in layers without distractions, and had not been able to recover from his thoughts.

Awakened by Dante's words, he suddenly looked up.

"Commander Zhan?"

Dante handed out the book in his hand.

"This will be the last procedure of the farewell journey. It's time for you to show their past lives."

Mephisto looked carefully at the commander's face and tried to find clues of disagreement - although he also knew that "duplicity" never belonged to Dante's way of being.

Aware of what had happened to him, he still wanted to read the eulogy himself?

It's incredible.

Mephisto hesitated for a moment, finally nodded and took the book handed out by head Zhan.

"We feel futile and sad..."

His reading voice was quiet and peaceful. As soon as the words of the think tank came out, the blood slaves surrounded him were silent - no one could have expected such a trend in the last link.

It was not the great commander of the war, nor the noble blood priest - but Mephisto who finally ended the journey of sacrificing warriors.

Through the bright light in the blood slave's hand, the words that could be clearly identified were stuck in Mephisto's choked throat.

He also wondered whether he could properly shoulder the burden of his choice?

Dante thought he was safe, but only Mephisto knew that it was not so simple.

Only he knows what price he paid to finally return to this world.

Is he strong enough?

Can he really become the shadow under the sunrise of the regiment?

Can he really be a shadow in their souls?

Can he hold on to himself?

On the other side, Dante was also watching his behavior.

With a sigh, Mephisto gently closed the book and handed it back.

Dante's eyes turned to worry, but Mephisto grabbed his mouth, put his palm on the shoulder of a dead soldier and whispered:

"For the unfortunate death, we feel futile and sad. The shed blood sharpened the blade of the angel, and the martyrs never sacrificed in vain."

For the next ten minutes, Mephisto sang a ballad in memory of the dead - he didn't need the leather nailed hymn book.

There are few books in the think tank sanctuary. He has never read them all, and his memory is always accurate.

Although facing Dante's eyes, Mephisto could still feel the eyes of the people around him - they were watching his mind and waiting for his shaking.

But they were destined to be disappointed. Every time they read a eulogy, Mephisto's voice would be firm.

In the process, arbinu occasionally cast a worried glance at Dante, and the scene of the two people's conversation a day ago reappeared in his mind.

"Commander Zhan, what do you think? Even if he looks peaceful now, it doesn't mean that his inner is still complete. We all know that a person who has experienced black anger can't be complete again, so we must not indulge him, can we?"

In Dante's private room, arbinu shook his head slightly in front of the war leader - his attitude was very negative.

Arbinu's attitude towards Mephisto was more firm, perhaps because he had seen too many brothers fall into black anger. He insisted that Mephisto be imprisoned and then sent to the tower of death in bar, where the lost belong.

Dante raised his eyebrows in the face of the Holy Blood priest's attitude.

"I will not 'indulge' anyone in the regiment, the albino brothers, but I have no habit of judging the fighting brothers without verification."

After that, the most prestigious war leader of the Empire turned his eyes on arbinur like a sharp blade.

"Brother, we each have our own destiny and our own burden."

Finally, arbinu succumbed to Dante's tough attitude.

But that doesn't mean he agrees with Mephisto.

"... the emperor's records of candles and torches, and the cave kills monsters..."

Mephisto's voice became louder and more confident, as if to prove something.

With everyone watching, the last eulogy he recited was like a thunderclap, surging along the departure queue with the momentum of dragon singing and tiger roaring, shaking every heart that once doubted him.

"... they live up to the blood of St. Gilles!"