Chapter 561 Ch560 Enid's Thoughts

Chapter 561 Ch.560 Enid's Thoughts

A horseshoe.

A suit of armor stained with history.

A handful of bloody influence.

A roll of hard-won promotion ceremony.

An apprentice who stood out.

A ritualist.

The boiling water melted with silver and iron poured down on her head, and the cold water drops threaded through the hair and slid across the girl's trembling flesh.

She was not in the ox-leg bathtub, with delicate and fragrant colored foam, while a maid hummed a lullaby and another carried a dressing box, waiting to color the bird that was combing its feathers.

The barefoot brown girl walked through the pile of wood that was emitting smoky black smoke, tiptoeing, passing by wooden bowls full of chickpeas and corpses whose internal organs were crushed out of their mouths by wheels.

Her footprints left no trace on the marble floor, no trace in the mud and blood.

They said: 'Save me! I'm dying! '

She left no trace. They said: ‘Turn back! Look at the misery you have created! ’

She leaves no trace.

The silver molten iron wrapped around the paper-thin flesh, and vaguely, it seemed as if one could see the soldiers who had worn it to the battlefield or fled from the battlefield in history.

It was the product of the madness of the kiss of courage and fear, with the stink in hiking boots, the rotten smell under the skirt, the fear on the edge of the robbery knife, and the madness in the shaking of the rope.

She didn’t care what people called her.

Fear, or the part without fear.

She would become the weapon itself.

No matter who she served.

The road she walked would sound the final song of the dispute.

The silver-eyed girl hugged herself and stood quietly in the smoke-filled ceremony.

She was soaked.

Flesh and soul.

Her eyes passed through the moss-like black hair, quietly staring at the man waiting for the ceremony, trying to wrap the honey-colored amber with flowing hot silver.

She wanted to conquer and war, and was eager to vent her anger in a roar.

She just froze and ran headfirst into the enemy's sight.

Then.

Surrender willingly.

That was her anchor and calm, a constant and long-lasting feeling after being humiliated, like a shroud not shunning a mummy.

They both had glass eyes.

One was a horse, the other was a whip.

What a perfect match made in heaven!

Halida smiled timidly, her two slender big toes intertwined, like inferiority and fear rubbing the heart, you lean on me, I lean on you.

Then.

Waiting for Roland to spread his wings and put a warm blanket on her.

She carefully shrunk her shoulders, took the opportunity to lean half a step into the man's arms, and immediately stared at the gray-haired girl who was flipping through a book.

She saw that her attention was all on the paper.

So.

The group of butterflies on the Silver Lake flapped their wings happily.

"Welcome to the world of ritualists, Halida."

She heard him say.

But.

It should be...

Welcome to your world.

Mr. Collins.

This way...

It's better.

…………

……

"Name": Superman (One Ring/Iron Cavalry Road)

"Type": Hand of Dispute/Shadow Net/God of Rage and Killing

"Description": In the scars and cracks, I listen to the endless disputes.

As the name suggests.

When the students who push open the door of "Iron Cavalry" enter the first ring, they can no longer be called "mortals" in all aspects.

The physical fitness of the ritualists will be greatly improved, and they will gain extraordinary self-healing power and endurance.

At the same time, the innate fighting talent will be lifted high by the mysterious waves like pearls. Perhaps without long training, they can easily win in battle, and before death arrives, they will show the desperate talent in their flesh and soul countless times.

——They know how to use everything around them to kill their enemies since they opened their eyes.

Of course.

These warlike wretches, the miserable ones who constantly fight against their own split, intertwined souls... Only they know how weak and pathetic the hearts of the madmen in the eyes of the enemy are...

It's a pity.

They can't do anything about it.

……

…………

"So."

"Mason Lyle is still dead."

Enid's office-

The judge, with a look of "what did I say", held his chin and tapped the floor with his toes.

She had already warned Roland in advance.

Obviously.

Her "brother" still didn't know Cinder Kratov "deeply" enough-this is not a good thing.

Two reasons.

First, this "former saint candidate" is not very normal (although the ritualists are not very normal), but she is particularly special:

On the path of "saint", the result of too high qualifications means that they are cultivating a natural bad seed who is not "mentally ill" but has long figured out and identified the "truth" in his mind.

If you don't know her well enough, it will be dangerous.

Secondly, if you don't know her well enough, it means that Roland and her relationship has not made much progress.

For Enid, she is happy to see something happen between Roland and Shandel.

Apart from Shandel Kratov's qualifications and future, the "Gary Kratov" behind her is a blind and unignorable force...

It's useless to her, but very useful to Roland.

What's more, compared to letting a man in the prime of his energy be taken to Flower Street by her 'romantic subordinates' to find some dirty buckets that had not been wiped clean and kept dripping all day long, Xander Kratov obviously 'Cleaner' -

Forgive Enid Judith for thinking and doing this.

Or, she doesn't need anyone's evaluation.

Regarding certain precious treasures, ritualists of the Path of the Holy Flame often give similar answers.

For now.

Xander Kratof was the only one who came into Enid Judia's field of vision.

(Of course, there were some non-ritual candidates, but she didn't think these girls were worthy of her treasure—and probably their parents thought the same.)

As for Lillian Rose Vansittart…

She had heard some interesting stories recently.

Probably.

This is a good choice.

It's just that her background was too despicable and dirty. Even if she had a pretty good surname, there were some aspects that Enid thought she needed to observe for a while.

Furthermore...

Now Roland was talking to the person she was talking about.

Halida.

Someone who doesn't even have a last name is an even more unacceptable 'monster' than Lilian.

Where did she come from?

Monsters in the circus should die in the circus.

Damn "destiny".

If you can choose people from the velvet, you shouldn't just look at the stuff from the mud.

"What are you going to do?" Enid stared at Roland with an incomprehensible tone.

"Obviously, Halida is a hidden genius." Roland didn't know what the gun-swallowing judge with his versatile skills was thinking about, so he praised him without hesitation: "She is more mysteriously favored than me. Enid, Such a natural ritualist should not be just one person’s maid.”

What he said next really surprised Enid.

"In fact..."

"I want Halida to join the Inquisition."

Roland said softly.