bookpub Chapter 226 He deserves to die!
Chapter 226 He deserves to die!
Chapter 226 He deserves to die!
Snapped!
The framed portrait of Amon at the end of the passage lay upside down on the ground, and the sense of crisis that had been lingering in Cyril's mind vanished instantly.
However, Steve's imagined body, along with its spirit, was completely sucked into the picture frame.
Then, guided by her spiritual intuition, Sirion discovered a new portrait hanging on the wall to the right of the passage.
The frame contained Steve, whose body was contorted. Unlike the other frames around him, he could move and talk, just as he had been in his own painting before.
At this moment, it was pounding on the invisible barrier that was blocking its way, while crying out in a loud, wailing voice:
"Master, please save me! I'm trapped inside this painting!"
"My power is sealed; I can't go back."
On the other side of the passage, the living corpse that Cyril had previously imagined vanished silently after losing its spiritual support, and the extraordinary materials he had collected earlier were scattered all over the ground.
After swaying for a while, the stone giant that had turned into a zombie collapsed to the ground and reverted to its original form.
The stones that made up its body cracked and shattered, revealing a grayish-white heart, about the size of two of its fists, riddled with holes.
After looking around and confirming that there was no danger, Sirien sat down on the spot, closed his eyes, and meditated to restore his spirituality.
The struggle between Steve and the picture frame earlier had depleted his spiritual energy, and with the previous depletion, his spiritual energy was nearly exhausted.
After some time, Sirion reopened his eyes, tossed a gold coin as a simple gesture, and then stepped into the passage in front of him.
With the power of Ammon's portrait no longer influencing him, there were no further anomalies in the passageway.
He walked smoothly to the end of the passage and bent down to pick up the screaming scroll that was now just a background image, which was spread out on the ground.
Not far away, Steve, who was sealed in the picture frame, quickly spoke up:
"Great master, please save me! This painting is so small and dark, and it keeps draining my strength. I feel like I'm about to die."
"Don't worry, you won't die."
As he spoke, Cyril took two steps closer.
He placed his left hand on the picture frame that sealed Steve, and with a spiritual vibration, circles of dark blue ripples spread across the surface of the frame, forming an illusory "door" like a water curtain.
The moment the "door" appeared, Steve couldn't wait to squeeze out and escape back into his painting.
Then Cyril walked to the framed portrait of Amon that was lying upside down on the ground.
Just as he was about to bend down to pick it up, he saw a small worm with twelve intersecting transparent and semi-transparent rings crawl out of the picture frame, moving up and down in the air, and finally outlining the smiling figure of Amon.
He reached into the air and pulled out a single crystal monocle, putting it on his right eye before looking at Sirion:
"How interesting that you would dare to visit my mausoleum in front of me, the master of the tomb."
"The most valuable thing here is this portrait of me. Do you want to take it?"
"Huh, you don't seem surprised to see me. You knew you'd run into me here, but you still dared to come. Did that paranoid guy give you the courage?"
Cyril stared expressionlessly at Amon, who had suddenly appeared before him, his eyes reflecting a phantom book that was slowly turning its pages.
"I came, I saw, I recorded."
Then he clasped his hands together over his shoulders, bent his back slightly, and gathered white, ethereal feathers behind him.
These feathers clustered together to form a pair of pure white, broad wings, which then slowly and irresistibly unfolded.
Beneath the wings, his figure transformed into a blurry humanoid shape composed of colorful starlight and countless transparent wing-like membranes.
Across from him, Amon reached out and pressed his hand against the monocle he was wearing over his right eye. The smile on his lips gradually faded. Within the monocle, which appeared to be made of crystal, colorful starlight and transparent wing-like glints kept flashing and disappearing, as if they were stuck in some kind of stalemate.
"Is it possible to reveal a mysterious reappearance of one's own characteristics while maintaining rationality and clarity?"
"It seems... this special form is nothing more than that. It cannot change the fact that you are just a Sequence 6 Beyonder. You will still be killed by a bolt of lightning and a sharp blade piercing your heart."
"Are you sure you don't want to try running away?"
Cyril did not answer, but simply remained in that state, calmly staring at him.
Then, a pair of transparent, wing-like thin wings suddenly grew from the monocle on Amon's face, attempting to escape, but were grabbed back by Pao.
After restoring the monocle to normal and putting it back on, he said helplessly:
"This is really troublesome. According to my agreement with the paranoid, I can't directly fight you for the time being. It's just a clone formed by a Time Worm, and it's not good enough to deal with the pollution you've caused."
"Alright, I'll keep this portrait of mine with you for now. Remember to take good care of it for me."
As soon as he finished speaking, Amon's figure suddenly became faint and then disappeared into thin air.
Cyril looked down at the screaming scroll in his hand, paused for half a second, and then reached his other hand into it.
After some searching, he pulled out a Time Worm that was interspersed with transparent and semi-transparent material and had twelve circular rings.
"You found out, what a pity."
As Amon sighed, the Time Worm vanished from his hand.
After silently looking around, Cyril made the pure white, wide wings behind him disappear, and he returned to normal.
He felt that Amon was teasing him.
...It's also possible that there are too few Time Bugs left here, and without a positional advantage, they might not be able to defeat me when I'm fully armed.
Rather than waste the Time Worm fighting me, he might as well give up here. After all, all he loses is a portrait that loses its magic without the Time Worm, and a passage leading to the abyss.
If a battle breaks out between us, and the "Lord of Storms" or Adam are summoned, we will still lose these things, including the Time Worms left here.
But... he might have a deeply hidden conspiracy. After thinking for a while, Sirion took a gold coin out of his pocket and tossed it into the air.
After simply taking possession of it, he felt a little relieved.
...Never mind, I'm leaving Backlund soon anyway, so even if there's a conspiracy, they can't catch me.
He paused, then looked at the portrait of Amon lying upside down on the ground. In his spiritual vision, the frame no longer possessed the rich spiritual radiance it once had.
"Did he take most of the characteristics of this painting with him, or did the painting's unique features originate from the Time Worm?"
"That's a bit stingy..."
After complaining, he suddenly turned around and looked back in the direction he came from.
He breathed a sigh of relief after confirming that the extraordinary materials he had previously collected, as well as the magical items and extraordinary properties left behind by the extraordinary individuals who had come to explore before, were still there.
If Amon takes all of this with him, he will truly lose everything.
"You're absolutely right, so I took the mementos left behind by those adorable little ones."
Amon's voice suddenly echoed from the other side of the passage. Upon hearing this, Sirion's expression changed, and a hazy, illusory book appeared in his eyes.
After a brief delay, he teleported directly to the entrance of the passage.
But it was too late. He could only watch as Amon smiled, waved to him, and then disappeared.
Disappearing with him were the extraordinary relics left quietly on the surrounding floor by the previous group of explorers—magical objects with intense spiritual radiance and extraordinary properties.
"Don't"
Xi Ruien opened his mouth, one hand gripping the air in front of him. The stunned look in his eyes had not yet faded when anger, helplessness, and disgust surged up.
Why does this damned path of "thieves" even exist in the world?!
From now on, I will put signs on doors all over the world: "No Amon or dogs allowed."
After taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down, he looked at the extraordinary materials scattered outside the passage and sighed silently.
Thankfully, they didn't leave me nothing.
But Amon took the lion's share, damn it!
Seemingly sensing Cyril's turbulent emotions, the painting he held depicted Steve cradling his head, motionless, attempting to blend into the image of an ordinary painting.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He flicked his wrist, sending the scroll in his hand flying into the air, where it hovered in front of him.
He then looked at Steve in the painting and asked:
"Can the corpses of the stone giants on the ground be remade into zombies?"
Steve, head bowed, said, "I'm very sorry, Master, but with my current abilities, I can't turn a pile of stones into a living corpse."
"What a pity." Shaking his head slightly, Sirion snapped his fingers.
In the painting, Steve's figure wriggled for a moment, and then appeared directly in reality.
Its upper body is solid, but its lower body gradually becomes translucent. It is slender and has a wavy, twisted feel. Its face has an exaggerated expression, and its hands are holding its head, as if it is always preparing for the next scream.
Observing Steve, who has come to life from the painting, up so close, Cyril began to question his own aesthetic sense for the first time.
Although it looks abstract when it's in the painting, it's quite interesting.
Now I have another reason to improve my drawing skills; otherwise, I always feel like I'm dragging down the world's overall artistic standards and aesthetic appreciation.
While he was silently grumbling to himself, the rather abstract-looking Steve stretched his body, then bowed respectfully to Sir Ryan and said:
"Great master, your loyal servant Steve awaits your command."
Cyril pointed to the extraordinary materials scattered outside the passage, left behind by the disappearance of the previously imagined living beings:
"Help me collect these materials."
Steve: "Yes, ma'am!"
Seeing Steve get busy, Cyril turned and went back to the main tomb chamber door, muttering to himself:
"A fool who does not belong to this era, a mysterious ruler above the gray fog, the king of yellow and black who holds the reins of good fortune."
He paused briefly, calmly looked around, and seeing no sign of Amon, raised an eyebrow and continued reciting:
"I want to know if Amon has really left."