Leiko stood in the corner and muttered softly, looking at Craig in front of him. He was not sure what Bulqueso's plan was for a moment.
The rules of life are right in front of you and yet you can still act as if you don’t know anything. This is not in line with Bulkeso’s habit.
Leiko turned her head and glanced in the direction of the Elder's Temple, her eyes twinkling.
She hasn’t eaten for a while, so it’s better to go get something to eat now.
As for Bulcaisel's plans, she only needs to keep observing.
No matter how powerful the Immortal King is, it will still be limited.
Whether it is the Holy Mountain or the ancestors all over the mountains and plains, even if these restrictions are not enough to match Bulcaisuo, there is still her!
Leiko has her best stuff, and the abilities brought by the suit alone are not everything she has.
That Leiko's legendary armor was made by her as a legend. She can also come up with new things, but she is not sure whether she can play a decisive role in facing Bulcaisuo.
At this time, in the Temple of the Elders, Volusk watched Bulcaisu walking towards the crack silently.
He seemed to want to say something, but in the end it turned into a weak sigh.
"Worusk, tell me now, and then go where you should go and wait for me to realize your dream!"
Burkeso turned his head and smiled, and there was a real smile in his eyes.
After devouring part of the consciousness of the first generation ancestor, he has already felt the power of the authority of life.
Although it is just a sign, with his powerful strength, defeating the rule of death is no longer a problem.
As long as Malthael fails to get anything new, the only outcome waiting for him is to be torn into pieces and deprived of his authority!
“The body of the first ancestor was not completely damaged, and the Holy Mountain is his body!”
Worusk seemed to be infected by Bulkesso's confidence, and casually told the truth.
It’s just that this truth doesn’t seem so beautiful.
The Holy Mountain is the body of the first ancestor, so the Immortal King only temporarily maintained his body for him?
Bulkessor looked directly at the weeping angels in front of him who stretched out their hands towards him, and responded casually: "I know."
No expression of surprise, as if it was not worth mentioning.
Worusk was a little dazed. He saw the shadow of Kanai in Bulkesso.
The person who shouts tradition may not necessarily be the right figure.
Same no compromise.
The difference is that Kanai rejected the position of the Immortal King of Two Ears, while Bulcaisso chose to take over the burden.
There is Kanai's power in Bulcaisso's body, and the supplement that he risked everything and entrusted his existence to Bulcaisal gave the two barbarians too much overlap.
Rather than saying that Bulcaisso is the successor of the will of the first ancestor, it is better to say that he inherited the will of Kanai.
Then he chose another path.
Perhaps he also inherited some things from the first generation, such as his name and goals.
"The Immortal King is the master of the Holy Mountain, not its servant. But he also shoulders the responsibility of protecting everything on the Holy Mountain. So you have to protect that body, or become his body."
Worusk continued.
Should the Holy Mountain continue to accumulate all the transformed power of other barbarians and wait for the resurrection of the first generation?
Or let your body become the property of the first generation?
This doesn’t seem worth thinking about.
“My name is also Bulcasso! But now, I am the only one called Bulcasso!”
Burkeso's body glowed with anger.
The two knives in his hands were aimed at the crack in front of him.
The waist is slowly twisting, like a clockwork that is being wound up.
Every inch of the body without armor expresses the concept of strength!
“I think you need a suit of armor, or at least a formal suit.”
Worusk said casually.
He still wanted Bulcaisel to behave like a messenger of civilization, instead of showing the world a misplaced image of a barbarian.
He has more things to worry about, so it is not so pure.
At least, Kanai will not ask others for things he cannot do himself.
Burkeso's waist has been twisted to the limit, and the two swords in his hands continue to move.
Thunder and lightning began to accumulate on the tip of the knife, and gradually turned into a ball of white light that was difficult to look directly at!
The storm did not pass through the beginning of the breeze, but appeared in the room in an instant.
The storm is pregnant with flames and thunder, and the cold freezes all the water vapor in the air and turns it into ice cubes mixed in the storm.
Worusk watched carefully.
This blow has surpassed the blow that Bulcaisso struck Malthael at that time.
The two swords turned into a white light, and appeared on the other side in just an instant without any process at all.
The appearance of Bulquesso is as if the frame of the picture has been reversed, the left and right have changed.
The storm was completely dissipated at this time.
The bodies of the Weeping Angels completely collapsed in Warusk's eyes.
Things that are indestructible, things that theoretically require something like a paradox to solve, are destroyed in one blow.
"destroy?"
Worusk asked with curiosity.
This kind of performance is not unfamiliar to him.
The scene of Barr going about his killing spree is not much different from this one.
Broken rules was the first answer that came to his mind.
“It is strength.”
Burkeso gave the answer.
Simple strength can bring many accessories, and destruction is one of them.
The two knives in Bulcasso's hands were trembling, revealing his excitement.
Burkatho's Solemn Oath and Bulkatho's Warrior's Blood sound like Bulkatho's weapons.
It’s just that the Bulcaisuo in front of me is no longer the oldest ancestor.
“Such a great power, our goal is almost achieved. Hahahaha!”
Jordon Kule's ubiquitous drake voice sounded with excitement.
The soul floated quietly to the side, looking at Bulkesso and Volusk.
Worusk did not observe when he appeared, but it was obviously a long time ago.
“Shut up, if I hear your duck voice again, I might have you stabbed.”
Burkeso turned his head and glanced at Jotun Kule in dissatisfaction.
Burkeso made an exaggerated move to sew his mouth, and even the silk thread formed by mana passed through the lips and sewed them tightly.
Then he opened his mouth that looked like it was sewn shut and said, "It's been a long time since I've been truly angry."
Worusk responded with silence.
genuine anger, which is another synonym for tragedy.
Wouldn’t Bulcaisel, who has lost his fear, lose other emotions?
Fear and pain are both protections for life, and losing these is not a good thing.
Burkeso's feelings are covered with an impenetrable veil that can be felt and shown.
But not from the heart.
“Kanai has helped you, that’s good.”
Worusk said with some choking.
At this time, he had completely accepted the results of Kanai's sacrifice.
The body flashed with light, turning into the Immortal King suit that he left before Kanai's tomb.
"My glory is given to you. Whether you use it as a formal dress or as something else. You are now the immortal king."
Worusk disappeared in a hurry and returned to the Holy Mountain.
The crack that still exists is still shining with light, but nothing can be seen inside for the time being.
“Hey, are you ready to kill that blabbering Israelite now?”
Jotun Kule shouted at the top of his lungs, and the magic power on his body was pulsating like a layer of flame.
"And one more thing."
Burkaiso raised his eyes and looked at the floating Jotun Kule, squinting his eyes.
Then he suddenly jumped up and pulled out Kanai's Box from the heart of Zoldun Kule.
“This thing cannot be left to you for safekeeping.”
The cold tone was unquestionable.
Stop Bulkesso?
Jotun Kule didn’t have that idea yet, he was just more excited!
A living person!
Rather than a guy with a human body and half a soul pretending to be human.
Even though Bulcaisel needs a final step to absorb all those memories, the past and completeness are now within sight!
Rorschach watched the actions of several people present without saying a word.
He is feeling the power given to him by the Holy Mountain.
“Is this what you’ve been feeling?”
Rorschach asked meaningfully.
The anger in his body burned up little by little.
Then it began to grow.
What power can the barbarian's sacred mountain provide to the barbarian?
There is only one answer, and that is anger.
Rorschach was on the fast track to becoming stronger at this time.
After a long time, Bulcasso said this.
“Be careful, don’t be fooled.”
This is a reminder.
If the original ancestor intended to do something, Rorschach is still not up to his standards.
At least Rorschach who has not completely replaced the blood in his body will not be his resurrection target.
And by the time Rorschach completes the blood replacement, Bulkesso will probably have fulfilled everyone's wish.
…
“Colson, your stench cannot be hidden from my nose.”
Anderson followed behind Colson and spoke softly.
The sound was not loud, but it was enough to make Coulson tremble.
Even though he is already the Lord of Heavenly Hammer, he still feels afraid when facing an angel.
Most of the people in this country have faith. Although Colson does not believe it, he still has awe.
“What’s wrong? As an agent, isn’t it normal to have blood on your hands and dust on your heart?”
Colson said with a peaceful smile.
He still doesn’t know if Anderson has really seen through his background. Even if he failed to cover up the past, he has tried hard this time.
“Agent, how sad.”
Anderson said this.
As long as everything exists, there is a reason for its existence.
The same is true for the profession of agent.
And this profession is nothing more than the product of people’s struggle with each other.
As an angel, Anderson began to shift from a compassionate perspective.
Fortunately, it hasn’t spawned any funny arrogance yet.
“What is it like to be an angel?”
Colson found a topic. Even if he used all his strength, it wouldn't take much time to get to Kingpin.
But now is not the time to do that.
The hammer in Coulson's hand is called the Fallen Believer, so he is somewhat curious about the gods that exist in his faith.
“An experience that seems to see the world clearly.”
Anderson's voice is a bit too high-pitched.
But this is his truth.
When he was a priest, he could only place his faith on the existence of gods, but now he is the god who was once believed in.
Changes in identity will also bring about changes in behavior.
But a portal suddenly appeared in front of them, interrupting his intention to continue.
Looking at the portal, Anderson frowned. It was just that the expression hidden under the helmet would not be discovered.
A guy who everyone who knew his name would hesitate after seeing him appeared in sight, and he also had a mature body.
“Hey, brother, I just said that the barbarian’s teleportation spell is really useful, at least it’s much better than flying by plane!”
Constantine patted John Wigger's shoulder vigorously and said with a smile.
Then he saw Anderson.
Four people then walked out of the portal one after another.
Nick Fury, Duggan, Spider-Man and Rumlow.
Nick Fury’s plane was scrapped, and they had nothing to do if they stayed on the Holy Mountain, so they left Hellboy and Liz behind and returned to New York with the help of Rumlow.
As for Bucky, he and Steve had a lot to say.
“Constantine, what’s the matter with you?”
The holy flame on Anderson's body exploded, and the surrounding temperature obviously increased a lot.
As for Nick Fury, he was speechless at this time, and looked at Coulson in front of him with a not so pretty face.
“I thought you were dead.”
Nick Fury said to Coulson.
“I am dead, but I am alive again.”
Colson said with his signature smile.
Rumlow looked at Coulson, then frowned.
“I always feel like there’s something wrong with you? Isn’t it someone pretending to be?”
Rumlow is not unfamiliar with Coulson.
That's why he couldn't help but ask because of that change.
Although it is a taboo in the workplace to interrupt the director hastily, Rumlow has resigned long ago.
Fired by Nick Fury himself.
Now he is at best a part-time worker experiencing life, so naturally he won't worry about being worn in small shoes.
John Wicker has already held the gun in his hand, with a small ring on his hand.
That ring was always his reward, his consolation prize.
A casually made iron ring, but it was enough to elevate his body, which was at the peak of humankind, to an extraordinary level.
This time, he won't be defeated by a few gangsters in a sneak attack.
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From the previous conversation, John Wigger felt something was wrong.
Being a little more alert is not a bad thing, at least it will prevent him from being beaten to death under inexplicable circumstances.
As a former killer and now a member of the special agent team, his keen sense has impressed him more than once.
"I'm still me."
Colson said in a somewhat sinister tone.
Now that you have bumped into Nick Fury, it would be strange not to say anything.
With this little time, he can think of a suitable answer to deal with Nick Fury.
For example, for things like being saved by Murdoc, he needs to come up with an explanation that doesn't have many flaws in a short time.
Furthermore, for SHIELD, resurrection is a thing full of side effects. Even if Nick Fury doesn't fully believe it, he won't ask questions on the spot.
The black-hearted director is not the kind of person who has no government, so he secretly investigates afterwards.
“The great Lord Tianhammer!”
Coulson's words were ruthlessly taken over, but he was an elite agent and would not tell his true situation just because of the guidance of a voice.
So he answered like this.
“What is Lord Tianhammer?”
With just the right expression of doubt, there is no flaw in it.
Constantine’s speaking skills are top-notch, but it’s not easy to guide an elite agent like Coulson to expose intelligence.
Especially since this agent is now thinking about dikes.
Constantine curled his lips, looking disappointed, and looked at Colson with eyes full of eagerness to try.
For Constantine, Coulson is a good opponent.
It is more than enough to at least practice your own speaking skills.
He trusts his own feelings more than he trusts the sword.