The main hall used for sacrificial ceremonies in the temple has become a gathering place for tourists. When you walk in and turn right, you pass through a long corridor. These are some small side halls that are not open, most of which are hung with signs such as "employee lounge" and "tourists stop".

Mr. Charles Good, the 634th Archbishop of the Temple, is already seventy-six years old this year, and still loves taking photos with others - this is why every time he comes back, he deliberately chooses a period of time with more tourists, and is keen to pass through the tourists in a scream and loud shouts of the tour guides.

It only takes ten minutes to pass through the main hall, and Mr. Good usually walks for two hours. During this period, he is like a Disney mascot, with a happy smile on his beer belly, and is pulled by different tourists to take a photo and sign. He will respond to every request and never refuse.

On this day, he rarely walked in a hurry and walked through the employee-specific passage without being so silly.

Since the formation of the barrier for 1,200 years, no demon-level Difu has ever crossed the barrier network. This is an unlucky thing that he has taken office, taken office, and so on.

Mr. Goode's hair, which was not much, was falling off quickly.

"The Archbishop is here!" Someone shouted, and everyone automatically gave up a path.

Bishop Goode bent down with a serious expression and looked at Kelson who was transfusion on the hospital bed: "How is he?"

"It should be no danger." Amy said, "I'm just still very weak. I'll check it after this bag of blood transfusion, but with his physical fitness, he should be able to recover his consciousness within three days."

Mr. Good nodded, and then, his old fingers formed a complicated handprint, and then gently tapped Kelson's forehead with a rumor. The poor man's somewhat gray face seemed to relax a lot in a moment - this was the blessing of the Archbishop. It is said that when he was young, Mr. Goode was also an excellent therapist.

Mr. Goode gently stroked Kelson's forehead, sighed, and then asked, "Has the badge been recycled?"

"Here to me." Gal took out a handkerchief from his pocket and opened the blood-stained badge that exposed the wrapped inside.

"Gal," Mr. Goode took the medal from Kelson, and sighed at him, "I'm so sorry, my son, your vacation may have been ruined."

Gal shrugged - since he graduated from the temple, the holidays have been wet for him.

Mr. Goode wiped the blood on the badge, wondering if it was a little sensation, and the badge emitted a soft halo in his palm: "Let's see what you've experienced before - revealing."

Every hunter has this badge on his body. When they encounter danger, the badge can convey the owner's emergency to his companions, call the police and locate it, and can also record the last image of the Defu encountered by the owner, just like a black box on an airplane, being carried by these hunters who are prone to crash.

Under the order of Mr. Good, a layer of white mist floated rapidly on it, which was very thick, as if the fog polluted by the industrial revolution hundreds of years ago. The thick fog stretched out and heard the greedy exhalation of some kind of wild beasts, as if there were countless pairs of greedy eyes, and they stuck their tongues to stare at their prey. Although it was just a video, this hidden danger made every hunter present unconsciously nervous.

It is an instinctive sensing of danger accumulated by countless tasks.

Then several gray shadows flashed in the white mist, and a man's scream suddenly came from the white mist, and Amy's hand trembled: "It's Kelson..."

The color of blood covered the white mist, and all images disappeared.

"Ruldan," Mr. Good sighed with an ugly face, "Abyss Jackal - the legendary demon-level heart-eating monster, loves humans with jealousy, and negative emotions make it extremely powerful."

Emmy was still in shock: "So many..."

"No, there is only one." Gal saw more clearly, "The Abyss Jackal is very fast, good at hiding himself, and killing with one blow. Archbishop, what mission did Kelson have before, and why was he attacked by the Abyss Jackal?"

"Follow me." Mr. Good turned around and looked at Kelson, bent down and examined the scars on his chest, nodded to Emmy, "You handled it very well and saved his life."

Amy was stunned for a moment. Mr. Goode quickly left with a group of hunters and instructors. He then adjusted the potion and blood flow rate that penetrated Kelson's blood vessels: "This is not my credit."

He murmured and shrugged, remembering the mysterious man who lived in Gal's house.

It is really rare to be a hunter who is proficient in "The Great Encyclopedia".

There was already someone in Mr. Goode's office. He was a middle-aged man with very deep nasolabial folds on his face. I don't know if it was because he always frowned. There was a crease on the tip of his eyebrows. He was very thin. His skin was almost against his cheekbones, and his fingers were like dead branches.

Someone exclaimed: "Mr. Scoller!"

Mr. Scoller is the sword-holding priest in this position. Unfortunately, no one has seen him for a long time. It is said that he is seriously ill and has been in the hospital... He does look so thin that he has only one bone left.

The Archbishop hugged him, the old friend who seemed to be in the near future, and was not surprised by his appearance.

"Louis," said Mr. Good, "help him."

Louis walked up silently and reached out to support Mr. Scoller's light body. He noticed that the serious priest was wearing a full set of tribute robes for tribute and carried a heavy sword symbolizing the identity of the priest. The thing was an antique. Not to mention its own weight, the rust inside would almost crush the poor man down.

But no one could take the sword for him, which was like the archbishop's scepter, which symbolized the authority of the priest.

Scoller nodded to Louis, moved slowly to Mr. Goode's office, and sat down slowly with Louis' support.

"The barrier is loose." This is the first sentence of the sword-holding priest after sitting down, and he successfully calmed everyone present.

Mr. Goode leaned against the chair, crossed his hands on the table, and was silent for a while, and asked, "Is there no way to repair it?"

Scoller shook his head: "I have been studying it for a lifetime, but I have never figured out what kind of energy Archbishop Aldo uses to support the barrier. I'm sorry."

Mr. Goode sighed: "It's not your fault, my old friend, you have tried your best."

A trace of emotion flashed through Scoller's eyes, and he felt like a hole was leaking from his body, and his vitality was like water in a bathtub, flowing continuously through the dark floor drain to another world.

"How can the barrier loosen?" asked a woman with a black hair and neutral temperament. Her name was Michelle Lucreta. She was originally a hunter. She had just had her own child last year, so she returned to the temple to become a fighting instructor.

"The barrier is not omnipotent," said Scoller, who seemed very tired. "It is like a human being, and it is old, and it has loose teeth and is sick all over, and it is going to die."

"I didn't expect it was during my term." Mr. Goode smiled bitterly.

"Yes, it's a pity that I can't accompany you to the end." The heavy sword in Scoller's hand fell to the ground and made a hoarse voice. "In an earthquake ten years ago, we found signs of loosening the barrier, and then kept hiding the news, hoping to find a way to repair it, but no, the appearance of the demon-level Difu is a signal. The barrier that has protected us for more than a thousand years is disappearing, which is much faster than the ozone hole spreading."

The room was very quiet, and the sound of the needle tip falling to the ground seemed to be heard. After a while, Michelle asked, "What should we do?"

Mr. Goode gestured to Scouler with his eyes. The haggard man took out a new badge from his pocket: "First, we will recall all the hunters. Starting today, each person will replace them with a new badge. This is improved and has a certain defense ability. Second, all actions will be unified in the temple and will be arranged for a whole group of hunters in each task. Everyone, the period of separate combat is over. I hope everyone can get familiar with their partners in the shortest time. Except for the "Golden Chapter Hunter", everyone is prohibited from acting alone."

"Third, from now on, all teaching directions in the temple will be adjusted, and the assessment system will be re-established. Those who fail to pass will not be allowed to enter the internship period. Fourth, establish a special equipment group and admissions group, and we need more equipment support and more fresh blood."

"Fifth..." Scoller paused for a moment, and he stood up from the chair with great difficulty and refused Louis' help. The man's spine was still straight, he said, "Louis Megelt."

Louis looked at him in confusion: "Sir?"

"Kneel down." The sword-holding priest whispered and strongly ordered.

At that moment, everyone understood something. The devil instructor opened his eyes wide and looked at Scoller in disbelief: "Sir, this isn't..."

"Kneel down." Scoller's voice rose for a day, his cheeks tensed, and he could see the atrophic muscles inside through his shriveled skin.

Louis glanced at Mr. Goode, and the Archbishop nodded silently to him, so he slowly bent down and knelt on one knee.

"I, Allyn Brad Farah Scoller, the 596th sword-holding priest of the Temple, for a term of twelve years. In this position... I am about to reach the end of my life." The Archbishop's office was silent, and everyone held their breath. Scoller paused, raised the priest's heavy sword with both hands and handed him to Louis, "Then - Mr. Louis Megelt, are you willing to take over the inheritance of the heavy sword and shoulder the responsibility of protecting the temple?"

Louis raised his head, his eyes just in line with Scoller's eyes. The man's eyes were very deep, like two deep wells.

"I..." His voice was dry, his throat rolled for a moment before he said softly, "Yes, I do."

He knelt on the ground, took the heavy heavy sword with both hands, and all the blue veins on the back of his hand were exposed.

Scoller patted his shoulder and said to the Archbishop: "The formal handover is scheduled for next week."

"Louis," a smile suddenly appeared on his face, which made the serious face gentle. "My child, you are more talented than me, and harder than me, and most importantly... you are younger than me, and you believe you can grasp this sword."

Louis stared at him blankly, not knowing what to say.

Scoller sighed and sat down again, revealing a state of fatigue: "I think the barrier will not collapse completely for more than thirty years."

After a word came, whispers came everywhere. Mr. Goode closed his eyes and suddenly seemed to have grown much older.

At this moment, suddenly, a voice came from outside the door, and a man said softly: "No, the 'nucleus' has begun to crack. I don't think this time will last more than ten years."

His voice was very low, as if he was whispering against someone else's ears, but everyone present could hear what he said clearly. Everyone turned around and saw a young man wrapped in a snow-white robe standing there. He had a slightly curly blonde hair hanging on his shoulders, and the backlight was almost dazzling. There was a delicate and fresh rose on the neckline, as if it could drip the morning dew.

The man's light gray eyes swept across everyone's faces, paused on Gal's face unconsciously, and finally landed on Mr. Goode.
Chapter completed!