Chapter 734: The World Under the Fog

another place.

Endless fog spreads over this area, but compared to other places, the fog here is thicker, but also more dead.

Like a dead ocean.

The spiritual mist here is almost completely still.

And in this dead sea of ​​spiritual mist, a middle-aged man with an unshaven beard was looking ahead.

In front of him, is a huge city? harbor?

Countless buildings that look decayed and dilapidated float in this dead ocean.

Yes, floating, unlike other areas, this building is floating in this ocean of spiritual mist.

However, what is even more noticeable is that this huge city, which looks like a ruin and looks like a harbor, is half illusory and half real.

It's like an illusion, but it really exists here.

The unshaven man's cold gaze was fixed on the floating decaying harbor.

At this time, a voice came from the side:

"What? Still not used to it?"

The voice is calm and gentle, but it seems too peaceful.

Peaceful with a merciless indifference.

The unshaven middle-aged man turned his head and looked at the speaker.

"Immersed in the beautiful world woven by that great existence? Still can't wake up?"

The speaker was a man in gray robe who vaguely maintained a human posture.

There was a broken mask on the face of the other party, and there were broken armor-like things on his body.

However, from under the broken armor, some feather-like things emerged. If you look closely, you can see that its body is half-illusory and half-substantial. The limbs under those feathers have very little flesh and blood, except for the feathers. In addition, there are only bones that are similar to humans but slightly different from humans. Moreover, under close observation, the internal cavity can be vaguely seen from under the feathery surface.

The middle-aged man wanted to say something when he heard the other party's words, which should be sarcasm or ridicule, but the tone was so calm that there was no fluctuation in it, so the middle-aged man had no way to judge the other party's tone.

He opened his mouth slightly:

"I have no way of judging how much truth you have told me."

"Yes, that's right, authenticity."

The gray-robed man looked at the middle-aged man with empty eye sockets without eyeballs:

"On the contrary, there is also the possibility that we are immersed in the illusion woven by another great existence. There are not many people like you who doubt the authenticity of what we know, but what we have learned so far Based on the combination of various intelligences, there is a high possibility that our side is real.”

Under the broken mask, the pale, skeletal face slightly showing some bird features, slightly changed with the voice of the gray-robed man.

"No one can be sure of 'truth.'"

"There may be 'illusions' that we can't discern in the 'truth' we have."

"Places that we regard as 'illusions' may also have many 'realities' that we don't know about."

"Discerning the truth and sorting out the illusion is the reason why our dead brigade continues to wander in the phantom world."

The gray-robed man looked at the middle-aged man, and said something like this:

"The drowned in the sea of ​​ignorance will never find peace."

Hearing this, the middle-aged man was only silent, and did not respond immediately. Then, he looked at the gray-robed man with a scholarly temperament, and asked aloud:

"What is the name of my sequence?"

Hearing this, the gray-robed man slowly turned his head:

"name?"

"In the Phantom Realm, do you still want to use that ancient bond method?"

"However, I don't know either."

The gray-robed man turned around slowly, and walked forward as if floating:

"You've come to a fork in the road."

"At the lowest sequence, you've already taken a fork in the road, and it's very thorough."

"Cognition."

"The fork in your path is cognition."

The man in gray robe moved forward slowly, and his voice became farther and farther away from him.

And the middle-aged man just watched the other party's figure disappear into the thick fog and into the ruined harbor city.

However, the middle-aged people did not keep up.

In his field of vision, on this huge, dilapidated and decayed harbor, there are groups of gray figures similar to the figure of the gray-robed man just now, floating and moving around, or standing still.

When every figure looked at him, it was that kind of calm and chilling indifference.

"Port of the Dead".

This legendary stronghold of the Brigade of the Dead in the Phantom Realm has an older and more distant history than he imagined.

And those members of the dead brigade, those undead who were weird and evil in the church records, gave him a sense of a scholar.

"Either sleep forever in the whisper of ignorance, or sing at the end of knowledge."

He unconsciously began to say this "prayer" silently.

There is no context in this prayer that mentions the name of the old god of death.

At the same time, the other side of the phantom world.

A woman with long silver hair was standing silently in place.

And beside her, around her, one after another, blood descendants in human form or non-human form, are constantly processing things in the ruins according to instructions.

She is in a huge ruined city.

This is a strange looking building.

One building after another has been destroyed for an unknown amount of time.

One broken and silent street after another.

The directions of these streets and buildings all point to the center of the city.

That is, at the end of her field of vision, at the end of her field of vision, is an extremely grand church.

The church looked magnificent.

Numerous towering minarets, slender arch columns, and reliefs make this church and the whole city blend together, and the momentum also permeates.

Yes, a church.

Ms. "Tower" looked at this church, her eyes became a little gloomy.

Surrounded by blood descendants.

Surrounded by a body that gradually became fluid as her emotions changed.

Surrounded by pools of monster-like blood, Ms. "Tower" walked towards the church.

The four-legged monsters with flesh and blood limbs that looked like animal claws were striding forward staggeringly, like human beings crawling on the ground, or some kind of reptile.

Finally, Ms. "Tower" stopped.

In her field of vision, in this half-collapsed, empty church, one by one relief murals appeared on the inner wall.

Her gaze fell on those mural reliefs.

And the first thing that entered her field of vision was a group of murals that looked like flames, presenting an invisible object that was wriggling and dynamic.

The whole group of wriggling flames is like an eyeball.

What's even weirder is that those flaming eyeballs seem to be looking at her.