Chapter 1137: Chapter 104: Requiem_4
Lorenzo had just witnessed their deployment, but it was all so cold, as if these people were mechanical.
No, you could say they were mechanical.
From the previous battles and Frokiâs words, it was clear that these Watchers had no intelligence; they carried out orders in a mechanical way, like beasts acting on instinct.
"What are you praying for?"
Lorenzo couldnât understand, and as he watched the priests, he moved forward, walking to the center of the crowd before stopping.
Standing at the edge of the Abyss, Lorenzo gazed into the darkness below.
Well of Ascension.
These priests sat around the Well of Ascension, with the pitch-black mouth of the well at their center.
Watson said this was the Root Source of everything. Although the Well of Ascension seen was just a [Gap] of illusion, a voice of unease still echoed in Lorenzoâs mind, urging him to leap in.
Despite the illusion, Lorenzo still felt an indescribable unease in the pitch black, as if the dark mouth led somewhere, a place where mortals absolutely shouldnât touch.
"They are praying in silence, softly humming a lullaby."
A voice sounded, responding to Lorenzoâs words.
Having a voice suddenly answer Lorenzoâs question in such a bizarre place was not a comforting scene, causing Lorenzo to suddenly retreat; had he not retained some vigilance, he might have attacked forward.
Just then, a priest stood on the other side of the Well of Ascension, their gray-white robe completely concealing them in shadows, and Lorenzo couldnât see their face.
"A lullaby?"
Hearing such words at such a time felt strange to Lorenzo, but it prompted him to think of something.
Requiem Method.
These priests arenât just praying; it seems their prayers are a kind of song, a soft lullaby...
The more Lorenzo thought about it, the more terrified he became.
So, who are these fearsome and powerful Watchers humming for? Who are they lulling to sleep?
Thinking this, Lorenzoâs gaze involuntarily moved downward, looking at the dark mouth below, and for a moment, it seemed to transform into a dark vortex, drawing in Lorenzoâs gaze and mind...
"Ah!"
Lorenzo exclaimed, falling backward.
He thought his willpower was decent, but facing the illusory Well of Ascension, he nearly took that step and fell into the dark abyss.
The priest also began to move slowly, seeming to be the only one among them with self-awareness or clarity.
"Jessica, have you left too?"
He walked over to a priest, lifting her hood to reveal a faceless visage.
"Left? What do you mean? Is she... dead?"
Lorenzo slowly stood up, looking at the sorrowful man.
At this moment, Lorenzo could somewhat understand the scholarsâ zeal; the truth of the world lay before him, even amid danger, he wished to learn more before dying.
"She hasnât died, merely lost."
The man reached out, gently rubbing the womanâs face, which was bare and devoid of any living aura, like a cold corpse.
"Eternal life, day after day of slaughter, even the strongest will eventually succumb and lose themselves."
The man pulled back his hand, looking around at his former comrades.
"They have lost themselves, lost their identity, no longer even beasts."
Listening to his words, Lorenzo looked at the other faceless people, noting that they made up the majority of the clergy, which meant that over the long years, most Watchers had lost themselves, becoming lifeless flesh.
So the Watchers were also dwindling, continuously decreasing until the day they completely vanished.
Pushed by some unseen force, Lorenzo glanced at the Well of Ascension.
Then, of course, once the Watchers completely vanish, what will happen?
In that haziness, Lorenzo saw darkness writhing, crimson fissures appearing and splitting open, revealing pale eyes, thousands of them, staring at him.
In an instant, Lorenzo felt a deep revulsion from his soul, extreme nausea and stench, as if all the worldâs sins were gathering in the darkness, breeding and rampaging, spurned by the God as His enemies.
"What exactly is beneath the Well of Ascension?"
Lorenzo gasped, realizing that this was the barrier the priests were guarding; it was what lay beneath the well.
"The enemy."
The man replied, then lowered himself, picking up the sword belonging to "Jessica".
A rusted Nail Sword.
"Then who are you?"
Lorenzo asked again, and like the man, he picked up the Nail Sword from the ground, tightening his grip on the hilt.
The man looked at Lorenzo, his eyes devoid of life, as though they had lost their luster long ago.
He spoke.
"Adren Levien."
The rusted Nail Sword magnified in the eyes, swift as flashing thunder.
When Lorenzo tried to raise the Nail Sword to block, a bright red wound had already opened on his cheek, cutting from his forehead down, severing along the bridge of his nose.
Adrenâs expression was stern, striding forward.
"You shouldnât have come here, child."
...
The roaring tides slapped against glaciers, causing them to collapse and disperse into shards of ice.
The Pioneer leaned on a spear, gazing far toward the sea, where the Sea Serpent was locked in place, while the Morning Glow Advance barreled toward them at full speed, seemingly unstoppable by seawater or ice, shattering it all under its sturdy ram.
"Youâve returned too, Adren."
The Pioneer slowly shifted his gaze downward, watching the ice covered in snow dust, as if his sight pierced through obstacles, peering at the twisted flesh in the deep sea.
"This wonât do..."
The Pioneer muttered to himself.
Blood flowed across his feet, and turning around, the stench of blood assaulted him.
One after another, broken bodies lay in the snow, blood seemingly endless, turning the surrounding ground red; some corpses still writhed, massive wings feebly flapping.
The head rolled aside, its vacant eyes staring at the Pioneer with no emotion.
"My comrades, itâs time to end this dark destiny."
The Pioneer said, approaching an angel not yet completely dead, thrusting the spear.
Its wings vibrated, the sharp wings tried to strike the Pioneer, but the cold spear was faster, effortlessly piercing its heart.
The angel struggled, attempting to pull its body off the penetrated spear, but quickly, its blood vessels turned gray-black, spreading like a toxin throughout its body, finally losing all vitality.
Pulling out the spear, the Pioneer coldly watched all this, as if waiting for something, soon more Thunder Groups emerged, the Watchers returned.