Chapter 1341: Chapter 1339 Fingertips
Squeak!
Without stopping, Fu Qian closed the door behind him as he walked and even tidied his cloak nonchalantly.
The face on the resting bed was undeniably familiar; he had even seen it in the mirror just two days ago.
eting the esteed Pontiff Niel Glegorya wasn’t easy by any ans.
There was no ti to change clothes.
Although his cloak was of professional design, it was terribly tattered and couldn’t hide the mangled flesh beneath.
The overload from the Mythical Form earlier was now showing.
The wounds under the Hazy Saw hadn’t fully healed; now, their recovery had almost halted, with so areas even regressing to negative.
Specifically, the wounds seed to have taken a life of their own, crawling and spreading outward.
Recovery might take so ti.
The reason for not taking that ti to make the audience more dignified was simple— the mont he opened the door, the Pontiff sensed sothing.
She showed a faint breath and her body subtly responded.
…
The absence of followers made the hall seem even more solemn.
When Fu Qian was unhindered and reached the seat, the witch, seemingly the source of the world’s eerie glow, had awoken from her deep slumber.
With a long breath, her eyes slowly opened, captivating.
Fu Qian said nothing, yet a smile blossod on her pale, enchanting face.
In the next mont, she didn’t even lower her arm or sit upright but raised her intricate sleeve and leisurely extended her left hand.
In a synchronized motion, Fu Qian already reached the side and cooperatively extended his hand.
Thin and cold, the touch lasted just an instant.
Quickly, from Fu Qian’s grasped fingertips, the figure before him gradually beca ethereal, like frost dispersing.
Fu Qian’s expression remained unchanged.
The figure wasn’t real; he knew this imdiately.
A hasty drawing in tandem with the outside world.
Apparently, the witch left a farewell in this manner.
That’s why he didn’t hesitate earlier.
The shadow before him was too weak, a slight delay and it might not have enough strength to hold a hand.
And this grip seed to signify the end of his escort journey.
But only seemingly.
Rip!
The sound of tearing shattered the tranquility.
The already tattered cloak was now completely ruined.
And beneath, a ghastly gigantic mouth exposed itself, aid at the rapidly withering figure above, swallowing it whole without hesitation.
Escort is escort; as said, I’m not here to offer condolences.
Instantly engulfed in complete darkness, accompanied by a familiar sensation.
In silence, the Church of the Dark Moon began to collapse again, quickly turning into sared paint.
Fu Qian was no exception.
He did not resist one bit.
…
When the transformation ceased, indeed the Dark Moon Hall had vanished.
Inside the gallery, still at the previous spot, still staring at the previous painting, seemingly just lost in thought.
Only the torn cloak and the fangs not fully retracted below recorded the prior audience journey.
Cough cough!
With a hand on his chest, Fu Qian took a deep breath, and the next instant began to cough violently.
With this rare motion, chunks of broken internal organs spewed onto the ground.
…
Not bad!
For this transformation, Fu Qian felt quite gratified.
The unresolved teeth in his chest weren’t because the earlier injury was severe to the point his mouth couldn’t close.
The change was due to new injuries.
Upon swallowing the Pontiff’s shadow, under Insight, there was no usual gain, not even a word.
Instead replaced by the violent loss of vitality.
As if eight fully operating pumps were recklessly spilling his blood.
In ordinary tis, Fu Qian had the confidence to resist, being newly promoted to the Second Phase.
But combining his current state, it was beyond just snowballing.
Fu Qian felt incredibly clearly he could start his life countdown.
After so searching, this outco could only be sumd up as—amazing!
For Fu Qian, under Insight, gaining another Pontiff’s relic, a power or item ant nothing.
The current outco was nearly second best.
The best would be obtaining information left by the Pontiff, detailed to street, stair, and door numbers, indicating a crisis is at hand, urging Temple Knights to co save her.
But now, the information was reduced to just one thing—crisis is at hand.
Things going wrong at least signify change.
Though weak, what he swallowed was, in essence, a fragnt of the witch’s power, establishing a connection with her.
The ensuing reaction was life flowing madly away.
Should the witch have indeed vanished completely into the passage of ti, it’s hard to fathom how such an effect could be produced.
Even if it were decay transmitting from a corpse, there had to be a corpse.
This escort journey seemingly had finally made a breakthrough.
Though lacking more detailed things, it seems reasonable to reckon the Pontiff’s true self remains in this world.
The only issue being ti was running short.
No more than twenty-four hours remained, Fu Qian was quite clear on this point.
By tomorrow at the sa ti at the latest, his life would reach its end.
Mythical Form couldn’t be initiated anymore, not even improving in subsequent tis would happen.
Cough cough cough…
Another bout of violent coughing, caused by Fu Qian finding a wound, and inserting his finger to rummage around.
A mont later, a blood-stained, curved object resembling bone was gradually drawn out.
This certainly wasn’t bone.
Before transforming into a worm to traverse, aside from dangerously assessed Aberrant Spectral Lanterns, nearly all items were absorbed into Fu Qian’s flesh.
Blasphemy’s Embrace was certainly no exception.
Regrettably, even after a day, including during the task of healing, it remained unactivated.
Its significance seed to be rely a key to this world.
At that mont, Fu Qian retrieved it, not intending to consu it for waste utilitarianism.
Wiping off the blood and setting it aside, Fu Qian’s hand reached into the wound once more, seizing a one hundred and twenty-degree angle.
Sweet Dream Cage.
The corridor-made item that could block watches was certainly not left out.
Given its slightly excessive size, careful planning was required to accommodate it into the flesh, even prompting painful mories of organizing backpacks from years past.
Considering his current physical state, manually aiding in retrieving it made the task easier.
Click!
Gradually dragging the hexagonal cage from the wound, without even bothering to wipe the blood off, Fu Qian directly placed it upon his head.
No effect.
Vitality still cascaded like an avalanche.
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