Chapter 15: Twelve Movements

The Death Class slowly walked into the room, closed the terrace door, and blocked the howling cold wind outside. However, the temperature in the room was much lower than outside.

"Mr. Fengyue, it's been a long time since we saw each other." The Death God Clan said with a wry smile: "When you come to a retired old man like me, I'm afraid you just want to have a cup of tea, right?"

He paused and said, "Actually, you can do it yourself, why use such a large formation?"

The Death Clan could not feel any breath of life from the three sects behind Feng Yue. When the door was closed, he secretly sent three wisps of vague detection Dou Qi, but as soon as the Dou Qi approached the three mysterious figures, he was swallowed by the darkness extending from their black robes. From then on, it seemed like a stone sinking into the sea, and there was no news.

The Death God's Class was speechless at this point, only a bitter smile.

The most basic skill of a killer is observation. The most important thing in observation is observation and detecting the enemy's strength. The Death Squad has discovered that any of these three mysterious guys may have no less than his strength.

What's more, there is still a romantic moment in the room?

Feng Yue said coldly: "Don't you retire now, don't you think it's too early? I can prolong your life if you are not attached to the pure human form."

While preparing for the cup of black tea that had been planned for himself, the Death Class slowly replied: "Mr. Fengyue, I am not nostalgic for life. Long life is just a heavy burden for me. I like my current life very much. I rely on my meager savings to live a simple life, bask in the sun every day, see the lake view, read a novel or poem by the fireplace when it is cold, and occasionally go to the tavern to have a drink. The peace here can make me forget the dark world, stay away from the memories of the past, and quietly wait for the arrival of death. Now, this is my only purpose of life."

The Death Class did not let Feng Yue sit because Feng Yue never sat down. He did not prepare tea for Feng Yue and the three mysterious people, and they didn't seem to need such things.

"Is that?" asked one of the mysterious men, his voice extremely low, hoarse and vague: "What are these?"

He reached out and patted the wall beside him, and a faint black spread rapidly to the entire wall, and then the brick wall collapsed silently, revealing a secret room behind him. The Death Tribe noticed that from his wide sleeve was a dark black armor glove.

The Death Class's pupils shrank slightly.

The bright magic lights lit up in the secret room, illuminating the various weapons, armor and strange magic items hanging all over the walls. These magical equipment are the treasures of the Death God's Clan throughout his life and are also his greatest hobby.

Feng Yue's hand moves, and a thin sword in the middle flew to the palm of her hand. This is the thin sword that the Death Tribe has been wearing. The sword body is surrounded by light gray mist. If you look closely at the seemingly ordinary sword blade, you will find that there are countless subtle silk patterns hidden inside.

The Death God Clan just put the teacup next to his mouth and stood still. His hands kept trembling, and he quickly collided with his teacup. However, he was unaware of it and just stared at Feng Yue's hand.

Feng Yue held the hilt of the sword with her left hand, put her index finger on the sword tip with her right hand, and gently stroked it. The extremely sharp blade could not hurt the tender fingers as soft as water!

The wind and moon are passing by, and the lingering gray mist is swept away.

All the magic attributes on the thin sword were actually wiped out by Feng Yue’s finger!

The God of Death's face was gray and he looked at the thin sword that had been with him for more than 30 years. The blue veins on his hand appeared and disappeared, but in the end he just sighed and sat down dejectedly. In an instant, the God of Death's life seemed to have been ten years old.

This thin sword is made of fine gold, Mistera magic black steel and several other rare materials. There are several void gems on the hilt that can detect and control the power of death. Even if there is no magical attribute, just counting the material value, this is a priceless sword.

But Feng Yue's finger wiped out at least 70% of the true value of this sword.

At this time, another mysterious man's hands were slowly spreading open in his chest, and only a deep darkness could be seen in the wide sleeves of the robe. Flashes of cold wind gushed out from the sleeves of the robe. Although the Death God Clan did not have a pair of eyes that could see the soul clearly as the undead mage, he was also a powerful person in the Holy Realm. At this moment, he could vaguely tell that countless souls were flying out of the sleeves.

Feng Yue stretched out his fingers into the air, and the souls gathered in front of her fingertips like a tide, condensed into a silver stream of light. Feng Yue pulled the silver stream of light with her fingertips, writing a complex magic talisman in the air. Once the symbol composed of silver light was written, a layer of purple-blue light appeared on the surface like a tulle.

As she flew her slender fingers, one magic talisman after another composed of silver light flow formed in the air, sky blue, yellow, rose red... various colors wrapped them in sequence, and in the end there were twelve magic talismans, slowly flying around the wind and moon.

Each magic talisman exudes a different aura, representing a unique power.

The Death God Clan barely suppressed the shock in his heart and carefully distinguished the aura of these magic talismans.

The twelve magic talismans represent the twelve negative states of weakness, aging, slowness, dimness, fatigue, poisoning, illusion, artifacts, chaos, violence, magic breaking and annihilation.

Feng Yue's right index finger stroked the sword edge again, emitting a tartan color of earthy light, which means that the slow magic talisman seemed to be pulled by an invisible force and fell on the sword edge of the sword. With a buzzing sound, the thin sword suddenly shook, and the entire body began to shine with a very faint tartan color of light.

The Death Class suddenly stood up!

He seemed unable to believe what was happening in front of him, so he closed his eyes first, took a deep breath, and then opened his eyes. His eyes were no longer free from the thin sword shining with earthy yellow light in Feng Yue's hand.

The sky was completely dark, there were no lights in the room, only eleven magic talismans and thin swords emitted twelve different colors of light, reflecting the faces of the God of Death Team. Feng Yue and the three mysterious people seemed to be dissolved into the darkness. In the middle of the room, only the thin sword existed proudly.

After a long time, the Death God Clan finally moved his eyes away from the thin sword and swept over the eleven magic talismans one by one.

"This...this sword..." Ban's voice was extremely dry.

"It will soon have a new name." Feng Yue said lightly, and then added: "If I want to..."

"What's the name?" The Death God's Class was extremely nervous, and there was some unbelievable expectation.

Fengyue slowly said: "At dusk..."

"...Twelve movements!?Impossible! This is absolutely impossible!" The Death Clan shouted.

The Twelve Movements of Dusk, the legendary weapon of the Dark World, has always been hidden only in the darkness in the darkness. It is said that every time this short sword with unknown origin is rumored to have its victims tested by twelve negative states at the same time. If it is not a strong man who ranks at the top of his power or a special existence, the chance of resisting the damage of twelve different negative energy at the same time is almost zero.

Therefore, even if the powerful being is stabbed by the Twelve Movements of Dusk a few times, even if it is just cut through the skin, it will become weak.

The Twelve Movements of Dusk are the benefactors in the dream of every killer in the dark world. But this short sword has not been revealed for nearly a century. There are rumors that it has angered the heavens because it is too fierce and has been destroyed.

However, how could the Twelve Moves of Dusk, the lifelong dream of each killer, be reproduced so easily in Feng Yue's hands?

The Death God's Eyes were taken back from the Sword and met Feng Yue's silver eyes. He was wondering, what kind of existence Feng Yue was?

Feng Yue turned his right hand and the thin sword had been handed to the hands of the Death God class. The Death God class held the thin sword and stabbed it for a few times. Finally, it was confirmed that every attack of the thin sword at this moment would have a slow effect. However, the Twelve Moves of Dusk should be accompanied by twelve negative state attacks. Now it is only one. Obviously, Feng Yue's process of transforming the thin sword is far from over.

The Death God's Class looked at the eleven magic talismans that were still floating in the sky with fanatical eyes, and wanted to return the sword to Feng Yue. Unexpectedly, Feng Yue didn't answer at all, so he let the sword fall to the ground.

She opened her left hand, and the remaining eleven magic talismans fell into her fair palms, like snow falling into warm water, and dissolved into the almost transparent skin.

"This..." The Death God Clan was shocked.

"I have already imprinted the prologue of dusk on the sword, which is considered as compensation for disturbing Lord Ban. Let's leave now." Feng Yue said lightly.

The Death Clan remembered the words Feng Yue had just said, "If I want...". He sat down dejectedly, held his head with his hands, and grabbed his hair randomly. In a blink of an eye, he jumped up again and walked around the room anxiously.

The Death Clan tried not to look at the thin sword inserted on the ground, but his eyes would inevitably fall on the blade with earthy yellow light.

If twelve kinds of lights appeared on the thin sword at the same time, what a magnificent scene would it be... The God of Death thought in a daze.

He then secretly scolded himself for his ignorance. When the twelve movements were played together, all the glory of the world would be desolated, and the thin sword would fall into absolute darkness and would not reflect any light. Even the sword holder could only grasp the shape and direction of the sword blade through his own feelings.

"Fengyue! You... OK! You are so powerful! Tell me, how can you let the twelve movements sound together?" The Death Clan roared, bloodshot began to appear in his eyes.

Feng Yue seemed to have a smug smile on the corner of her mouth, and she said in a hurry: "The great movement has always been with time. Therefore, every month, I will recall a movement."

The Death Class continued to pace silently, but this time he was like a headless fly, bumping east and west. He suddenly stood up, staring at Feng Yue, and gritted his teeth and said, "Very good! I won't retire, I will work hard for you! Isn't it just eleven months? I admit it!"

"Twelve months." Feng Yue said, "If you want the rest of the movement, then the first chapter will be counted as one month. Of course, Lord Ban, you can continue your retirement life after receiving a few movements. In that case, the power of your sword will not be much less."

The Death Class hummed heavily. According to legend, when the twelve movements of dusk are sounded together, more powerful additional abilities will appear, but no one can tell what this ability is. Even if he has no additional functions to get the twelve movements together, he will never tolerate a movement that is lost outside.

The Death Clan inserted the thin sword around his waist and wandered around the small building like a gray shadow. When he appeared in front of Feng Yue, he had already returned to his usual dress. He was holding a gray box in his hand and said angrily: "I'm ready to go! Where are we going?"

Feng Yue smiled faintly and gradually disappeared into the void.

A mysterious man in black robe said slowly with a loud and metallic sound: "We will take you to the next destination, where we will meet with Feng Yue."

The blue sky, the sea of ​​clouds like peaks, and the scenery above the high clouds is still so monotonous. The sacred dragon Glicoli is flying towards the extreme north with the wind and moon.

It increased its speed as much as possible to keep it close to its upper limit. Although Gregory's power is not very good, its speed is already extremely fast, at least it will not make Feng Yue angry about it. However, the long flight is boring, and the scenery around him is really unpredictable. After Gregory, who could not bear the loneliness, finally found a suitable topic and asked: "Master, why do I feel that blessing the twelve movements of Dusk should not be such a simple process? Does it increase the difficulty for each chapter added?"

“Double.”

Gregory immediately came to his spirits and was able to find a suitable entry point for flattery, sometimes by luck, and sometimes by using wisdom: "Master! You are so great! When the Twelve Movements of Dusk are added to the last chapter, it is simply a work that only God can accomplish!"

"I can only add to Chapter 5, and think about the rest slowly." Feng Yue said lightly.

Gregory was a little dizzy when he was hit by this head-on blow. It couldn't help but ask, "But... what should I do there?"

Feng Yue snorted and said coldly: "Don't worry about him! Let's use it for a few months."

The sky is still heavy lead gray, and large tracts of snow are rotating and falling from the dim sky, endless and endless, as if they are going to last until the end of the world. There are no pedestrians on the streets, and thick snowflakes quickly accumulate on the ground, making a happy "rustling" sound. However, no matter how cold and harsh winter in the north is, it can only shake the majesty to the poor. At this moment on this snowy night, the most luxurious house in Silde City is brightly lit, and the magical device for heating in the basement is activated with all its might. From the hall to the inner room, the whole house is steaming hot and warm as spring.

"Achilles is so arrogant!" Roger looked extremely angry and patted the edge of the bathhouse hard, frightening the young maid who was massaging him.

"He is just a stronger force, but you are an angel serving the Lord God. How much glory in heaven comes from your wings! If you are the monarch who controls a country in the world, then Achilles is just a soldier with greater strength. How could he be so arrogant to you?" Roger was indignant and finally added: "I don't see that the faith of those people in the church is pious enough. I only know that according to their strength, I can't see who is the angel who is truly close to the Supreme God."

The bathtub that can accommodate ten people to bathe together and has more than one more occupies half a room, and is carved into the shape of leaves with a whole piece of blue stone produced in Mount Alang. On the other end of this large bathtub, Macbeth is also soaked in hot water. His strong body exposed on the water is perfect, completely different from Rogue's white and fat body.

Macbeth raised his head and looked at the ceiling through the misty water vapor, as if he had not heard Roger's provocation.

After a moment, Macbeth closed his eyes and slowly said, "The power of Achilles is not just stronger, you can't understand his strength. The people in the church are not incompetent. At least the Pope and Augustus have seen the power gap between me and Achilles, and they also know that the mission this time will be completed by Achilles, and I am just an auxiliary. So their approach is not wrong."

Roger disagreed: "The light angels are just powerful guys. How can they compare to your wisdom, nobility and holiness? Even in the ranks of heaven, you are far higher than the light angels. Alas, it's a pity that in this world, power determines everything. Therefore, those little people who are tempted by the flames will neglect you so much. Even if you are just a supporter... no, you should supervise Achilles, and those guys in the church should not give you a single follower! They have tens of thousands of holy knights!"

Macbeth snorted, without saying anything.

Roger winked. The two beautiful maids behind Macbeth understood. They removed the large bath towels wrapped around them, slid quietly into the large bathhouse, pressed their elastic body against Macbeth's toned body, and their pairs of slender hands that were massaged for him quietly sank into the water.

Macbeth was like a statue, motionless. After a long time, he let out a breath and opened his eyes. The blue-gray eyes were clear and transparent, and there was no desire to see.

Roger was secretly shocked.

Macbeth frowned slightly and said, "The human body really has endless desires. No wonder those low-level angels fall one by one. You two, I don't need these." The two maids who were pestering him were stunned, but there was unquestionable majesty in Macbeth's voice, so they hurriedly put on their clothes and retreated.

Macbeth glanced at the maid who was wrapped around Roger like a water snake, frowned and said, "You go out too!" The maid did not dare to disobey, so she had to retreat in a hurry.

Macbeth said seriously: "Rogue, if you want your magic to progress faster, you must restrain your physical desires. Although the human body has potential, the corresponding desires are too strong. It is precisely because you cannot get rid of the constraints of desire that there are so few people with strong power among you. Otherwise, with the number of humans now, how could there be only such a few strong people? Humph, the Holy Land, this level of power can be admired by thousands of people? It's ridiculous!"

Roger immediately seized the opportunity and flattered him.

Macbeth was not moved by Roger's flattery at all. He continued: "You have arranged a good arrangement for me these days, which has given me a full understanding of this physical desire. Roger, you prove yourself again. Although your body belongs to darkness and death, you believe in light. People's understanding of power is still very shallow. They only know that the divine power will automatically fight against negative forces such as darkness and death. In fact, how can the divine power originated from heaven be so crude and simple? The divine power is higher than one

The power of cleavage can not only coexist with darkness, but also turn darkness into light. Rogge, do you understand that as long as you believe in the Supreme God, the Necromancer is not a way out. But! If you are still immersed in the desires of the flesh as you are now, then you can only wait for the salvation of heaven. After I return to heaven, you will arrange your salvation. But before redemption, you'd better try to improve your power, so that after the salvation is completed, you will get more light."

"Salvation! What a beautiful word!" Roger exclaimed, but his mood became depressed in a blink of an eye, and sighed, "But my body is filled with evil power. Will I be redeemed from heaven?"

Macbeth looked at Roger and said, "Your power does not come from the dark gods, so don't worry. If you can completely transform yourself into a divine attribute before the arrival of heavenly salvation, then I can guarantee that there will be a place in your place within the light of Lord Fryanmere!"

Roger's heart trembled, knowing that the opportunity was not to be missed, so he immediately asked Macbeth for advice on how to use and transform power.
To be continued...