"Ho...ho...ho..."

In the palace, Emperor Yuriel I's breathing sound was as heavy as a bellows.

His right hand held his heart high, and the strong and powerful heart was tightly bound by purple-black virtual chains, deeply tied into his heart. In the hole dug out of his chest, the black blood washed the gap like a waterfall, soaking large areas of the ground under his feet into black.

"This is... this is my territory!"

He suddenly roared again, and then the hand that pinched the heart exerted force fiercely. The powerful heart could not bear his grip strength, and along with the purple-black virtual chain, it was squeezed and exploded into his hand.

After doing all this, his legs could no longer support his body, and his knees softened and he fell forward. But before kneeling, the emperor gritted his teeth and knelt down his knees, turning them to one knee, pressing half of his body on another vertical leg.

He was still gasping, but Cyril could clearly feel his breath gradually calming, the filthy breath on his body gradually dissipating, and his new eyes became gradually clear.

He squeezed his heart with his own hands, but this did not seem to represent the end of his life; on the contrary, his aura was climbing rapidly, and soon it had grown to the level of natural disaster-level power familiar to Cyril.

"Is there any special treasure for life?" Cyril secretly guessed that in theory, the treasure that can withstand the filth erosion of Danya should not exist, but if it were the emperor of Aosaint Emma, ​​maybe he could get a special treasure linked to the gods?

"you……"

Emperor Yuriel I finally recovered. He looked up at the upright boy ahead and said in a deep voice: "Which province are you a warrior?"

"Province?" Cyril smiled, "I am from La Rochelle."

"La Rochelle..." Emperor Yuriel I's pupils shrank significantly, but then he showed a helpless smile, "La Rochelle... OK, okay, I didn't expect it to be a La Rochelle, who awakened me in the country of O'Saint Emma. Family hatred, national hatred, I didn't expect that the La Rochelle people are so generous..."

"Generous? Don't make a mistake." Cyril sneered, "Your son, Peragios Hris, died at my hands."

Yuriel staggered, but then stabilized his body, and Cyril had already continued:

"Austria Emma has been dead in name only, Yuriel Hris." Cyril called his name directly, "The filth has swallowed up all the territory of Austria Emma, ​​and all the lands you are proud of have been reduced to wasteland."

He said, walking forward and stretching out his hand. The power of nature spreads out from his palms, trying to heal the wounds of Emperor Yuriel I. "We have a common enemy... Huh?"

He was surprised to find that there was no trace of healing at the wound, but the torso around him was gradually cracking.

"I'm dead." Emperor Yuriel I shook his head, "I have the last two hours, this is the effect of the Soul Returning Orb."

He pushed Cyril's hand away, stood up, and said slowly:

"You're right, we have a common enemy... Bishop Nickel, I never thought it would be him..."

"The most wrong thing I have ever done in my life is perhaps to let the development of Yuanchu Church, which laid the foundations everywhere in St. Helcoint. Black mud burst out from those churches at the same time, swallowing large areas of the city. St. Helcoint was occupied by filth in an instant..."

"Shame, this is an absolute shame!"

Emperor Yuriel I's face became more and more gloomy, and his emotions were like a brewing volcano: "Osaint Emma can't be destroyed in my hands like this, at least for the last two hours..."

"Do you know where Nikkor is?" Cyril asked quickly.

"He? Of course he is on Mount Koleranfin."

"Mt. Kollerranfen?" Cyril remembers that this mountain with a difficult name is located behind the Palace of O'Saint-Ema, and is one of the holy places of Yuanchu Church.

"A few months ago... no, now it is 1443. About a year and a half ago, a fire broke out on Mount Quallenfen, and the entire city's Yuanchu Church showed a vision." Emperor Yuriel I recalled, "Nickel told me that this was the response of the great Danya to the world, and it was a pious recognition of O'Saint Emma."

"The fire..." Cyril couldn't help but clench his fists.

Of course he knew which fire it was.

The fire was exchanged for the life of Fotiu.

"Have he... mentioned anything related to ceremonies, ceremonies, or something?" Cyrill asked after thinking for a moment.

"Rite? Ceremony? Oh, on the eve of the filth, he once talked to me and said that he was going to hold a grand ceremony of origin... Damn!"

"I don't have much time. For the rest of my time, I will tear the rebel to pieces-" Emperor Yuriel I roared, then turned around and faced the rear of the palace.

He took two steps at once, stepped forward and grabbed his throne. The heavy throne was easily raised by his hands, and then he was thrown forward with his strong arms!

"boom!"

The throne smashed through the thick wall behind the palace and turned into a burning meteor, smashing towards the direction where the Mount Quallenfen was located.

Cyril was still thinking about why this emperor was so reckless. What could it be for throwing a throne? At the end of the meteor sliding down, a bright red cloud suddenly flipped up, and the flames burned, igniting half of the mountain behind the black fog in an instant.

Emperor Yuriel I kept walking, and he began to strode forward. With every step he took, his body grew a little bigger. When he knocked open the beam of the palace and rushed out of the palace, his height had reached more than ten meters, and his legs were so thick that he needed five Cyrills to hug him.

"Nickel!!!"

His voice was like a storm in the sea of ​​anger, blowing the black mist backwards. Thousands of anger were burning in his eyes. He turned around and grabbed the entire palace. Then he broke it into two pieces with both hands, threw it out with his left and right hands at the same time!

"Boom boom boom!"

The two parts of the palace were like two halves of a puzzle in his hand. They were thrown out lightly, colliding fiercely in the air, and finally exploded with a bang. The broken building turned into burning flying stars, falling in the black mist, and falling in the city that was stained with filth.

The flames did not go out because of the fall, but continued to burn, and even the filth that surged in could not be swallowed up.

And Emperor Yuriel I beat his chest with both hands, and his roar was like a thunder explosion:

"This is my land, this is my Osaint Emma!"

"Who is it that allows you to act like this in my country-"

"I will sentence you to death with my own hands!!"

In his roar, the surging black clouds also responded accordingly, but clusters of black clouds rushed towards where he stood, and at the moment they landed, they turned into tall giants made up of soldiers of Aosaint Emma, ​​intending to fight with him.

But Emperor Yuriel I rushed forward and punched the head of the dirty giant closest to him with one punch. Then he pulled off its arm with the other hand, regarded it as a giant stick, and slapped the tall giant who rushed towards him on the other side. The giants made painful screams, and he pressed them to the ground, and stepped on them from the middle of their waists. Then, just like the palace he had thrown out before, he threw them all out with his left hand and his right hand!

The gorgeous fire light kept blooming above the city, like the cruelest fireworks show. The emperor fought wildly, fighting against the seemingly endless black clouds. His shouts never stopped, even one more than another.

Cyril stood behind him, in the ruins of the palace, watching the battle belonging to Emperor Yuriel I.

From beginning to end, Nickel never showed his existence. He just manipulated the filthy black clouds to waste the remaining time of the emperor. The burning flames seemed to be unfair to him, and he didn't care about the flames dispelling the distribution of filth in the city, or consuming the filthy black clouds around the mountain...

Nickel, what are you preparing for? Can't get rid of yourself?

He narrowed his eyes slightly and subconsciously reached out and touched his chest.

There, the string of source necklaces hanging there was a heat that was completely different from the previous ones. It was as hot as a small stove. Cyril could even hear its impatient meaning from this heat-

What are you anxious about? Can you play a role here...

A flash of inspiration in Cyril's mind, and he immediately pulled off the Yuanchu necklace in his chest, which was side by side with the colorless transparent water droplet necklace, and threw it hard above:

"Yurel Hris, catch it, use this!"

The small necklace was too small for the current huge body of Emperor Yuriel I, but the Emperor Yuriel I, who had just punched through a giant's chest, quickly turned around and quickly grabbed the necklace thrown by Cyril. Then, along with the giant who had been pierced through his chest, threw it towards the mountain wrapped in black fog and fire clouds in the distance.

"Roar—roar—roar—roar—"

This time the giant made an extremely tragic cry. It was flying in the air. The red flame that was originally burning on its body suddenly turned into a gorgeous golden color. The golden flame was like a shark smelling the smell of blood. Facing the large black fog in front of it, it had no fear at all. It actually spread from the giant and burned towards the thick black fog!

The golden flame was burning violently, and the black clouds that were in full swing just now seemed to have seen a natural enemy, and suddenly rolled backwards.

But the golden flames had already risen up, and as the black cloud rolled back, it simply spread to the mountain, igniting the originally burning wildfire into golden color!

“It works so well?”

Not only Cyril, but even Emperor Yuriel I was stunned. He then became ecstatic and quickly grabbed the pieces of giants that had not been thrown out, trying to throw them out and become the fuel for the golden flame.

But the moment he grabbed a giant limb, a thick black spear suddenly flew out from the retreating black cloud. It was not fast, but it made Emperor Yuriel I unable to react at all, and just flew straight out of the ground-

Then it penetrated through the right cheek of Emperor Yuriel I.

And this is just the beginning.

The sharp spears that countless of them shot out from the black fog and shot at the emperor standing there from various angles. Emperor Yuriel I, who was hit by the first spear, could not respond at all, and could only be penetrated by these countless spears.

"Why, why always destroy my rituals when it is important, so do you, Yuriel, isn't it good to be a substitute for Leander? Isn't it good to be a filthy follower? What's the difference? Do you have to come and make trouble for me - Danya's flame, damn, where did you get it from-"

A voice was roaring in the dark clouds.

But Emperor Yuriel I could no longer hear it.

His tall body became shorter and shorter, and as the last spear penetrated through his throat, he was completely nailed to the ground.

The giant face, whose face could not be distinguished, was still twitching. Cyril looked at the face that fell and faced him, and his broad lips were still murmuring:

"This is...my...land..."

Then there was no sound.

Only a black eyes were left, staring straight at the young man standing there.

"Ah, I know." Cyril moved his eyes away from the black eyes.

He held the Saint White League Igwalk in his hand, and the sword tip facing downward was raised as he raised his hand and gradually pointed forward.

"I found Nickel's trace."

His feet exerted force, and all his magic power burst out. His body disappeared from the spot in a burst of sound. In an instant, it penetrated the thick clouds and fell heavily into the middle of the dark mountain. A figure was twisting in a strange posture in front of him, and the roar echoing in the space came from this figure.

"Who is it, who is it?!" This figure seemed to have also realized the arrival of the uninvited guest. He was about to turn around, but a hot and sharp sword had already penetrated from behind him, stabbed hard from his waist and from his chest.

His whole body was thrust up and hung up in the air, and suddenly there were only horrible sounds left in his throat.

"Fotiu...is the breath of Fotiu, an annoying breath!"

He shouted hard, his body twisting constantly, his four arms emerged from his body and grabbed the assassin behind him, but a burning force came from behind, which made him scream.

And the young man who had a long sword stabbed from his back had his eyes as long as a line, and his eyes were filled with a cold chill.

"Fotiu?"
Chapter completed!