When the Deathstroke Herald spoke, his voice was like a pot of boiling hot oil.
"They are here."
In the distance, escorted by several tall warriors, dozens of frightened children were tied up with ropes and sent to the giant holding a bronze bell.
Bivier was one of them. He was originally just an ordinary child. His father was a doctor. But just this morning, the world he was familiar with was torn apart.
These terrifying giants visited his homeland carrying a deadly plague and destroyed everything in him, including his parents.
Now, he must also face the choice of fate.
"Kneel down."
A majestic voice came out, and all the children knelt on the gravel on the ground at the same time.
The bell giant walked up to a child, looked at him for a while, and then touched the child's face with his hand.
"ah----!"
The next moment, the child screamed miserably, and chickenpox and scars quickly began to develop on his face, and then all over his body.
He scratched himself in pain and even pulled off the skin bit by bit. The scene scared some children to the point of peeing - literally.
When he fell to the ground rotting a third of the way, without even dying, the giant was already in front of another child.
"Too fragile."
After the cruel verdict, there was an even more cruel death.
"The bloodline is impure and there is a tendency for slight mutation."
"cowardice."
"despicable."
"Pampered."
………………
Finally, when we arrived in Biville, ten children had already "died" before. Although they were not dead yet, their appearance was no different from death - perhaps death was more merciful.
When the Bronze Bell Giant came in front of her, Bivier realized that it was so huge. Its body was much larger than she had imagined, and it was emitting an astonishing halo that made him want to gasp for air.
He wanted to divert his attention, but the other person's yellow eyes stared at him.
"I...I'm not afraid of you!"
After he plucked up the courage to say this, the other person just gave him a sarcastic look, as if to say, don't do this to me.
The next second, the bronze bell giant suddenly grabbed his chin and lifted it, fixing it in the rusty gauntlet, making him stare at it for a while.
Bivier had no choice but to return the other's gaze, and then he found himself in a terrifying world.
In that world, the dead appeared again, their facial features had been distorted, their eyes were so empty, and their limbs were twisting stiffly, as if they were trying to crawl forward to survive - no, they were all dead.
The rotten skin was just loose on the head, and the contents of the eye sockets had long since been lost, and disgusting white pus continued to flow out.
They moved forward, swaying, and with every step they took, their flesh and blood split open, revealing what was underneath - rotten, blackened rotten flesh kept slipping from their bodies along with the stench, and new growth grew from the gaps.
The tissue covered the bones stained with green oil, and then continued to rot and fall off with the next activity.
In this cycle of corruption, everything is so hopeless and so scary.
In the distance, huge demons laughed happily. Every time they inhaled, their bellies would burst. Every time they exhaled, they would bring out a foul-smelling cloud filled with flies as big as a human head.
Bivier was in this rotting garden. He just wanted to escape desperately, but the fallen corpse kept getting up, looking for the living people around him, trying to catch him, tear him, and devour him until he turned into a
A body as broken as theirs.
The boy climbed up a hill. His boots were stained with dirt on the ground, and his clothes were torn and stained with pus and oil.
Then, he saw——
The demon in the middle, no, it seems to be a god. It is respected by the demons around it and responds with fatherly love.
It shakes a twisted spire, like stirring a pot of thick soup, and the whole earth rises and falls, meaning and law are destroyed. Existence is nothing but the kindness it bestows. If he wants to, everything will be corrupted!
Bivier heard his parents calling and expressed love to him.
As a result, the last trace of reason disappeared.
How long has passed? An hour, a day, a hundred years, nothing seems to have happened.
Everything in the garden was laughing, twisting, blaspheming, they were laughing, looking, playing, serving, while Beville looked on and admired.
"Very good, a qualified person."
The bronze bell giant released Bivier's chin, and now there was a mark of blasphemy on the boy's forehead.
"With the blessing of the immortal father, you will be implanted with the sacred seed in the future and become our brothers."
Reciting a loud oath, the bronze bell roared three times.
"Engarta the Ferryman, urgent orders."
Suddenly, a soldier strode over, surrounded by a swarm of flies, buzzing.
The Deathstroke Messenger opened the wet parchment and immediately made a surprised sound.
"Armageddon?"
At this time, a soldier behind him seemed to have guessed something and whispered:
"Commands from the Primarch."
Ngarta coughed lightly and waved to the soldiers escorting the boys.
"The harvest will continue, Sergeant Mitta will take over my duties."
Then he summoned the soldier who conveyed the order to him, and the two of them walked to a secluded corner.
"You must know some news, right?"
"I've heard some things, brother, but... they're just rumors."
"Tell me."
The Deathstroke belched and spit out a bunch of squirming maggots.
"Rumors... the Sacred Garden was suddenly very angry, and the original body received instructions to find something."
As early as a week ago, the news spread throughout the Legion like a plague. Somehow, it crossed countless huge gaps in space, was heard and relayed, and aroused some suspicion.
After all, it had been a long time since the Primarch had given orders to the Legion.
"But that place of Armageddon, you know, was so eye-catching... Those bloodthirsty lunatics of the Twelve Legion are still ashamed of their pathetic father's failure."
The soldier who conveyed the order had a crack in his helmet, revealing a barb-like set of fine teeth, like a bloodthirsty eel.
"So, you don't need to remind us, we all know what happened there... But what the original body ordered us to find is not to let us capture that world. Maybe... we can try to make a deal with those guys.
"
"Those guys-"
Engalta nodded thoughtfully.
"One way is to do this. Let Nuruddin contact them and say that all prices are negotiable, but we must get the information we need!"
The messenger nodded, turned and left, followed by the buzzing flies.
The Deathstroke Messenger stood in the shadows, his eyes shining brightly, as if he was thinking about something——
"The last daughter of Isa...if I give her to my loving father with my own hands, then I will surely be able to embark on the path of glory!"