Bulkesso was alone at this time.
The feeling of being alone may not be as bad as you imagine, but only the person who is alone knows how he feels.
Sometimes even the person who is experiencing loneliness cannot figure out what he is thinking.
After bidding farewell to Hylab, Bulcaisu lay down on the ground of the Elders' Temple very casually.
Now there won't be a Volusk cursing and saying that he doesn't act like a barbarian immortal king.
There are only three immortal kings of the barbarians.
And the first two don't look very similar. Perhaps the only thing they have in common as immortal kings is that they are powerful enough.
"Death, are you still there?"
There was a rare hint of fatigue in Bulqueso's voice.
"I'm still here, but now I'm more interested in the monks outside."
Death emerged from the shadows, his face hidden beneath robes and hood.
Bulcaisel was not curious about what death looked like now. He just closed his eyes and lay quietly on the ground.
"Warrior monk?
As I said before, I'm hesitant about what to do with you.
It might also be a good choice if you are forged to carry props from the gods."
Bulcaisel said these words in a voice without any fluctuations.
Bulkesso was particularly hesitant about death.
"As long as I exist, I can be a means for you to face that archangel named Tyrael, right?
As for whether I still have thoughts, actually none of you really care."
Death still stands far away, showing no intention of getting closer.
It wasn't that she was afraid that if she approached Bulcasso, she would be captured and forged in front of the furnace.
She just doesn't want to get close.
"You don't seem to have any attachment to your continued existence. Isn't there any part of the long time you have experienced that belongs to you?"
Bulcasso said as if chatting.
He had temporarily given up on the idea of ​​forging Death into the carrier of the gods.
"Of course not, I seem to have said it before.
At this time, I have two consciousnesses, and I don't show the two of me arguing in front of you. It's just because the two of me have reached a consensus."
The sound of death is not loud.
Although she is good at arriving unexpectedly in any situation, she never seems to be in a hurry.
"This is really not particularly good news, but it doesn't matter."
Bulcaisel said very perfunctorily.
He took out the Warusk in his left hand and placed it directly on the ground.
"Vorusk should be the Nephalem closest to mastering death. Maybe he can provide you with some help."
Burcasso's tone suddenly became serious.
"Are you going to lend me this legendary weapon?
Or are you not planning to face the direct pressure from the archangel Tyrell?"
The sound of death is a little more unexpected.
"Your existence is necessary, but I am not the only living person in Harrogas now.
I need to be responsible for other people's lives.
Death, or Ashira, if you take Warusk away, it will be enough to ensure your own safety.
I'm sure of this!"
Bulcasso's tone became intolerant of rejection.
Although it doesn't mean angry or rude, it is firm like a hammer at the forge!
"You just don't want fighting to break out in Harrogath?
The connection between the legendary equipment in your hands and the person who actually owns it is extremely close, isn’t it?”
Death is somewhat contemptuous.
"You guys have self-aware rules, and to be honest it makes people feel very uneasy."
Bulqueso said.
He covered his eyes with his free hand, and the tiredness in his voice became stronger and stronger.
"I don't quite understand your idea. It's probably like you can't trace the memories before you were born after you were born.
Only when 'I' have the concept of 'I' can I communicate with you.
Or are there other ways of communicating in your world that don’t have the authority of one’s own will?”
Death said.
Bulcaisel waved his hand and lit the torch in the Elder's Temple with his anger.
The fire was not bright, but the dim light made the half-body of death appear in sight.
But her face was still in shadow, as if it was a mask she put on of her own initiative.
"These things don't make any sense. The Archangels' actions will come faster than anyone imagines.
And the Burning Hell will never sit still and wait for death.
Although I don’t know what other power the Burning Hell has that can affect all of this, but that feeling lingers in my heart.”
Bulqueso said very casually.
Death can be used to contain Tyrael at this time, and not only the Nephalem and Archangels know this!
Baal has already met Tyrell who became the Archangel of Death, so he can naturally think of this.
All Death has to do at this time is to become a bait as Bulkesso needs!
It doesn't matter whether the one who takes the bait first is an archangel or a demon.
"Your current strength should be able to directly sweep away the archangels and demons."
Death said.
"That's my business, you don't need to know too much."
Bulqueso said.
Because a rough hand was blocking Bulcaisuo's face, Death could not see Bulcaisuo's expression at this time.
But this does not prevent Death from guessing about Bulcasso's current expression.
It was probably a hesitant but determined expression.
"Your body can't bear your growing authority?
Your first generation ancestors seemed to be expressing this meaning before?
What other help does he seem to have provided you?"
Death said somewhat inquiringly.
No one likes an inquiring guy in a production situation.
But Bulquesso made no response.
"I'll leave now.
By the way, I will still leave you a hand bone.
Although this time I may not be lucky enough to use this method to escape again.
To be continued...