Chapter 118 Nightmare: White Tower, Clear the Level!

In the middle of the stone hall, it was unusually quiet.

become a god.

This topic is so far away for a few of them...

To the extent that it is even somewhat unreal.

It was Annan.

He was keenly aware of a somewhat familiar term.

"The Fragment of Truth...what is it?"

he asked Michelangelo.

Because Annan's hands... have two fragments of truth.

It is the cornerstone he uses to summon players.

"Fragments of truth are manifestations of order. This is too far for you."

Michelangelo looked at Annan and replied softly: "You can understand that the fragments of truth are a higher-grade 'carrying object' than gold.

"All the supernatural powers in this world come from the curse. What about the gods?

"—Yes, the gods are still like this. It's just that the carrier of gods is no longer materialized metal, but the order of the human world... It is like the tradition of 'the elder and the young are respected, the ruler, the minister, the father and the son', as 'everything perishes, The end of all things'. As the gods are, so are the false gods.

"Becoming a god... means throwing away all the old spells recorded in the bearer, and getting an unprecedented huge spell - the priesthood. As long as the rules of the world do not change, this bearer will never be broken.

"And the name of this carrier...is the 'Book of Truth'. Whenever a new thing or a new rule is born in the world, an accompanying book of truth will gradually manifest in the world.

"For example, when human society developed the rules of money and commerce, the book of truth belonging to the Silver Knight just appeared; after the human race began to start a war, the book of truth belonging to the Red Knight was born. The book of truth is incomplete...what I call 'fragments of truth'."

Michelangelo sighed: "But it has been more than a hundred years, and no new fragments of truth have been born. Like me, there are many old things stuck in the golden stage waiting for new things to appear in the world.

"...but I can't wait any longer.

"My death prophecy was actually correct... yes,

I have foreseen. "

With that said, Michelangelo cast his expectant eyes on Annan: "What about you, David Gerald? Is there any other wonderful reasoning? I always feel that you still have something to say."

nature.

Annan sighed.

Because he cheated.

Apart from the uncle, the most suspicious is Benjamin. And Michelangelo played the role of "Ghirlandaio", and he has always tried to imply that Annan thought that Benjamin was Michelangelo.

But Annan knew from the start - that Benjamin must be innocent.

He didn't die here... he died in the future.

But Annan had other things to say.

He thought for a moment and sighed: "It's very simple, isn't it?

"...You are a great wizard of the golden rank, and you have been famous for a long time. Our curse resistance can't resist your power at all - just like Melvin who was killed by you.

"While in the silver rank, who can easily kill an 'idol wizard' of the same rank, known for his life-saving ability, without touching, removing the seal of the curse, or singing? Even let him Can't even say a last word?

"Actually, the answer has been pointed out from the very beginning - only the golden-level wizard, Master Michelangelo himself, can do it.

"Only him can kill a silver-rank wizard so easily."

It's like how the Silver Rank Gerald had the same oppressive power over our Bronze Rank brothers at that time.

Annan slandered.

Hearing this, Michelangelo sighed.

"You are a genius."

He murmured, "It would be great if there were talents like you among my students..."

After speaking, he asked Annan again:

"My prediction level has already reached the limit of human beings. But your behavior trajectory is not in my prediction. You should be like a 'goblin' statue, but you did not follow my script...

"What should I...how should I call you?"

Hearing this, Annan was silent for a while.

He blinked, realizing something suddenly.

The joy that had just disappeared came up again.

—Apparently, Benjamin guessed it.

He might even be the first to guess... At the very beginning of the tea room, Benjamin looked at Annan with a complicated expression, and probably realized that this was not the Gerald he was familiar with. Just not sure yet.

But after seeing Annan's clear reasoning, as well as his confidence that is so strong that it seems to be shining with light, and his graceful calmness.

He can be sure.

This is not Gerald.

But a stranger playing him.

Annan forcibly suppressed the happy smile at the corner of his mouth, and asked solemnly, "I don't quite understand what you mean."

"Master means."

Benjamin looked at Annan with a complicated expression and said, "What's your name outside the nightmare?

"And how did Gerald die... can you tell me?"

After the words of Benjamin and Michelangelo are out.

The whole nightmare began to shake, but the magnitude was not large, like a very light earthquake... From time to time, teacups, seats, and statues suddenly cracked.

--I see.

Can't you just be aware of it? You have to say it to confirm...

But the nightmare didn't collapse, but a strange crack happened...

After Annan confirmed the situation "when the NPC knew that he was in a nightmare", he gently shook his head.

"Gerald was killed by me."

He replied calmly: "Because he used the 'Bone and Blood Trigger' to kill innocent people indiscriminately. I will work with you, another disciple of Master Benjamin, to defeat him."

"...As much as I guessed."

Benjamin muttered.

Annan asked, "What?"

"No, nothing..."

Speaking of which, Benjamin suddenly stopped.

He seemed to understand something.

Looking at Annan again.

He asked word by word: "So... what about me?

"When did I...Benjamin Foster die?"

really.

Annan smiled and replied calmly: "You were killed by an anti-curse spell by a captain of the Geraint family named Klaus."

"The third prince... I think he shouldn't be able to come up with such a price."

Benjamin sneered.

"If you'll do me a favor..."

He replied without hesitation: "If Don Juan is still alive, help me tell him - his elder brother secretly believes in a rotman. If he is dead... go and tell the first of the Geraint family. Heir in line. As compensation, I will give you a code that you can use to win the trust of the 'I' in 'My Nightmare'."

When Benjamin said this, Annan suddenly paused.

He suddenly recalled something...

Speaking of which, where did Benjamin's nightmare go?

Was it absorbed by Klaus?

Does he have such talent?

But Annan didn't say anything, he just asked without a trace: "What password?"

"Evelyn Miller. The fox under the table. 15. The eighth soldier."

Benjamin uttered a string of meaningless words.

Later, he reminded Annan: "You can also set a password, a password that only you know. It is used to send messages to future generations after death... That is, to confirm that you are in a nightmare. At the same time, Every time your memory is checked, remember to add another keyword."

"I know."

Annan nodded knowingly.

"It's a pity, I can't accept a genius like you as a disciple."

Michelangelo sighed and smiled: "However, I can at least give you one more gift."

As he spoke, he patted the statue of "Ghirlandaio" behind him.

He said a little wistfully: "This is my last sculpture... The naming rights will be given to you.

"What kind of name do you want to give him?"

Annan watched the statue move.

In his mind, the work of "Michelangelo" in another world suddenly appeared.

He glanced at Michelangelo floating in the air in the form of a soul.

He said slowly, "Just call it... [David]."

"Named after Mr. Gerald, as a memorial... or so."

Michelangelo smiled and patted the statue.

The next moment, except for him and Annan.

All of them - their heads all exploded at the same moment.

Annan suddenly felt a strong suction coming towards him from behind.

He opened his mouth and said his last words.

"My name is Annan.

"Annan Winter—"

The next moment, Annan's body suddenly turned into a light sheet, circled around the statue, and disappeared.

In the nightmare world that began to collapse, Michelangelo frowned slightly, thinking silently:

"Annan Winter? Ivan's child?

"But Annan... shouldn't he be dead in five years?"