The air around the black formal suit was torn by pollution, and black lines filled the air around it.

Not to mention seeing clearly the face of the person in the pollution.

Even if you get close, you will be infected by the distorted reality.

Even from a long distance, the radiation caused by the distortion of reality will make its spiritual sense frightened and uneasy.

When pollution is close to the source of pollution, it completely collapses.

The spell to remove pollution and the increasing pollution have reached a strange balance in the sorcerer.

Look from afar.

This is the source of horrific contamination for a group of operations.

Blasphemous cultists.

Ken glanced at the umbrella in his hand.

He likes to engrave complex spells on umbrellas.

These techniques can ensure that they are less passive when responding to emergencies.

But at this moment, he threw the umbrella aside without even looking.

A great deal of blasphemous knowledge filled his head.

At this time, Ken closed his eyes and could see Kailin's figure.

Every time you close your eyes, you will see a different Kailin.

It's almost like crazy.

He even counted them…

There are eight different Kailin phantoms, doing various things.

It's like there are really eight Kaylins acting at the same time.

Or sleeping peacefully in the sea of ​​flowers, or galloping on the battlefield, or praying devoutly in front of the temple with rivers of blood...

No matter what your mental state is.

Ken at this time.

Very strong.

Look at it from the perspective of a cultist.

Apart from his favor and eternal link with the evil god, he is already a priest of the evil god in other aspects.

From a warlock's perspective.

The extension of his soul has reached the limit of the third ring.

Once you determine your origin in this life, you can be promoted to the fourth ring.

And his current strength cannot be defined by a simple warlock level.

Ken lightly scratched the air with his palms.

Under the fluctuations that distort reality, its face cannot be seen clearly.

The Alik family taught him a lesson in their official capacity.

Let Ken understand that under corrupt officials.

As Ken Servais.

Unable to maintain order.

The identity of the three-ring warlock and genius Ken Servais was nothing more than a shackle when facing the nobles of Restoration City.

His power cannot be exerted even in the identity of Ken Servais.

Although his familiarity with the techniques increases as his soul's extension grows.

But the knowledge in his mind is mostly blasphemous knowledge.

When he originally used these techniques, he was always restrained.

to prevent his identity from being exposed.

After all, the power obtained from the evil god by deceiving the evil god is ultimately the power of the evil god.

That is not allowed by the order side.

Compared to Ken when he was using the identity of a warlock.

Ken is stronger when using the identity of a cultist.

More unscrupulous.

More suitable for doing what he wants to do.

Ken stretched his arm slightly, and the sound of flesh and blood tearing could be heard.

A slender hand appeared on the originally slender arm.

This palm anxiously cut open the original arm.

A scar appeared on the arm.

No blood came out.

Sharp teeth spread out on the arm.

In the very center of the wound, a chaotic eyeball quietly appeared.

What those eyeballs are looking at is another world.

Ken looked at the strange world.

Although it was the first time he saw such a world, he knew what everything in this world meant.

This is one dream after another.

His eyes looked into the murky distance.

There, the imprint of his soul is engraved.

"Let me see...if any good children are sleeping..."

His voice became hoarse and unclear under the fluctuations of distorted reality.

The man stepped forward, surrounded by blasphemous curses, and gradually disappeared into the void.

The room he was in did not fall silent.

The beings in the shadows went wild, rejoicing in the sacrilegious ritual.

The blue light...the breath of sadness spread in their bodies, the choking sounds came out in the dark house, and they gradually fell into calm.

…

In a bustling bar.

Mike Alick hugged the scantily clad blonde and drank the entire large glass of ale.

His face turned red from the strong smell of alcohol.

He likes drinking, counting money, and women.

At the bar, he can enjoy himself.

There are no ignorant warlocks who pop up midway, and no performance deductions.

Tsk…

He took a big gulp of the ale in his arms.

Even when I am happy, I always think about work.

It was obviously a sure thing, but Baron Alik ordered him not to let anyone know about the house. As a result, a damn warlock took over the mission of the young master and attacked them like a fool.

He felt a little warm.

The smell of blood came out of the nose.

Sweat stains continued to flow from his body. He coughed twice and felt like vomiting for no reason.

Mike's face looked grim.

I've only had a few glasses of wine...

Why did I get drunk so fast today!

The goddamn bar owner won’t give you a fake bar!

He grabbed the woman in his arms unhappily, and the sound and touch of the woman's laughter made him feel relieved.

Sigh... Before the invoice for him to repair the door was issued, Baron Alik informed him that the job was no longer his. From now on, he would have to listen to a country bumpkin who looked like a bear...

"Tsk..."

"What kind of, bear-like redneck?"

"That's it..." Mike's pupils shrank.

The music in the bar is still deafening.

Some people around are dancing, singing, and drinking.

Under the feasting lights.

No one noticed it.

Opposite Mike, an invisible figure sat quietly.

I can't tell whether I'm male or female, and I can't tell my height.

You could vaguely notice that it was a person wearing formal clothes.

But just seeing it made Mike's eyes feel tearing pain.

He threw the woman in his arms aside. The woman screamed and fell to the ground, looking at Mike suspiciously.

Mike himself retched uncontrollably.

The figure looked at Mike silently, and a heart-wrenching voice sounded like fingernails scratching a blackboard:

"Let me ask you, who is that bear-like country bumpkin? Where is he? How to contact him? What did he ask you to do?"

Mike raised his head with difficulty.

Just in front of this existence, he felt uncontrollable discomfort all over his body.

He looked around him.

His friends looked at him with concern.

None of them noticed that figure.

"Who are you?" Mike quietly put his hand into his arms, suppressed his angry voice, and looked at that existence.

"Don't answer questions with questions." The hoarse voice sounded again.

The hoarse voice was answered by Mike's angry shouts and gunshots.

"Fuck your problem!" Mike yelled with red eyes, pointing his magic gun at the being who looked down on the figure.

Gunfire rang out.

The originally lively but orderly bar suddenly became silent and then chaotic.

People hurriedly ran away or hid.

Mike looked at the invisible being with almost red eyes.
Chapter completed!