Chapter 387 Memory Fragments of 1 Week Purpose

True God is... the pillar of the world?

The moment Annan heard this statement, a cold current surged up from the bottom of his head, and a deep buzzing sound suddenly sounded deep in his mind——

At that moment, Annan had many hallucinations.

It's like hearing someone whispering words that I don't understand behind me, and there is a rustling voice in my ears;

It's like seeing a stranger looking at me silently in a space covered with flying dust, and my heart suddenly feels cold;

It seems that there are many people around him who are smoking constantly, so that the air is filled with thick smoke that is almost real, even unable to open his eyes, making Annan feel that his throat is too dry to breathe, and he is constantly choking:

"Cough, cough—"

……What's this?

In Annan's eyes, the figures of Paper Ji and Alexander suddenly began to blur.

With Annan's choking cough, a lot of smoke, a lot of dust, and a lot of haze constantly appeared around him. They were large enough to cover the air around Annan, and everything around him turned grey.

At this time, Annan already realized that he should have triggered a certain condition and then fell into an illusion somewhere——

At the moment when the surrounding smoke and dust dissipated, Anjili peeped into the fog.

A few fragments of memory flashed before his eyes:

A white-haired woman who looked somewhat similar to Zhi Ji, but was taller and taller, with a majestic face and a cold and stern temperament, appeared in front of Annan:

"—Annan. Anna."

She spit out the dragon language in her mouth, her voice low and complicated: "Is this the name you gave yourself?

"I said yes. I will speak for you to your father."

Then, there is the second memory:

"—Your luck is not bad."

She looks about twelve or thirteen years old, the blond little girl is playing with dice, her eyes smiling like a crescent moon: "At least this year..."

"...next year? Uh...you don't have next year to say.

"

"—I am already the eighth light, and you will be the seventh light."

The sixteen-year-old boy in a white robe with white hair and white skin shone with colorful rainbow lights in his eyes, with a gentle smile and a clear voice: "Tianche, don't make us wait too long."

"—Frostborn."

The black-haired blacksmith with kinky muscles and upper body made up for the wounds on his body. Every wound was shining like lava, and at a glance, he could tell that he was a man who was not good at words.

He looked at the blueprint in his hand, frowning tightly: "It's weird. Frostborn will seek new things. Can your heart still freeze?

"That's it. It's called an internal combustion engine, right. It's not the heat of transpiration, it's the fire of an explosion. I remember it. Good idea. I'll give it a try."

"—nice story. You call it Hamlet, don't you."

The arrogant old man with an aquiline nose and deep eyes put down the manuscript, tapped the handrail rhythmically with one hand, and looked over with a half-smile: "But it shouldn't be made up by you. I've come up with it, these stories don't belong to you. .

"Don't repeat other people's stories, boy. You might as well tell me about your life in another world...that's your own story."

"--I can feel it."

The beautiful woman with long blood-colored hair draped over the ground and a thick and simple blood-colored pope's robe showed a gentle smile of compassion, magic, and motherhood. She held a blood-filled gold cup in both hands and placed it in front of her lower abdomen.

And she knelt down in front of Annan at the moment, and asked Annan to rest her head on her chest and look straight down at the blood in the Holy Grail in front of her belly. She lowered her eyes tenderly, touched Annan's neck with her warm neck, and whispered in a dreamy voice: "What you long for is flawless light. You long for the fire of justice.

"You will take light as your blood and fire as your heart...the pillar of the heavenly carriage."

Under the woman, the long hair and robes that touched the ground turned into dark red bloodstains. Behind her dragged a carpet of blood from the other side straight to here.

"—Is this your choice, Annan?"

The young girl with silver hair and purple eyes and a beautiful face, who looks about seventeen or eighteen years old, looked over with some anxiety: "The road of justice? You don't need to listen to the woman holding the cup.

"The 'Heart of Justice' is the most critical holy skeleton. With all due respect, it must not look down on your character... Why don't you try 'perseverance' or 'patience'?"

The girl was sitting in the arms of a black-haired woman four or five years older than she looked. The black-haired woman's eyes were wrapped with black cloth belts, but her arms were tightly wrapped around the silver-haired girl, making her sit on her lap, her lips tightly closed, and she said nothing.

But somehow, Annan always felt that she was saying something silently.

But just when Annan tried to listen, he suddenly realized that it was just a dream.

Immediately afterwards, Annan vaguely heard something.

"...Annan? Annan?"

He heard Zhi Ji's anxious cry.

He suddenly woke up from his dream.

At this time, Annan realized that he was lying on the front of the table, and Zhi Ji was concerned and nervous, hugged Annan's shoulder from behind, and stretched out a hand to put a hand on Annan's forehead.

She felt that Annan woke up for the first time, and she was relieved.

"……What’s wrong with you?"

Zhi Ji helped Annan to sit up and asked Annan, "You have triggered some kind of ritual... I saw traces of Ms. Silent, so I didn't dare to interrupt."

"Not interrupting is...correct...correct..."

Annan felt his voice hoarse.

The more he talked, the more he felt that he couldn't speak. He opened his mouth, but couldn't say anything.

At this time, Zhi Ji suddenly reacted.

"Wait, I understand... Annan, don't be in a hurry to speak."

She comforted Annan a little, patted Annan's back while looking at Alexander and asked, "Is there a glass container? Pure glass, a water glass, or an ashtray. It's better to make it bigger."

"Ah...wait a minute."

Alexander nodded, turned and walked into the back room.

This man with a ferocious face but a sense of security, quickly took out a fish tank with some water droplets remaining from the house.

I don't know where the fish in it went.

"Does it need to be wiped clean? Is this big enough?"

He asked Zhi Ji.

Zhi Ji shook her head and looked at the fish tank with a little hesitation: "It's a little too big...but that's fine."

She put the fish tank on the table and asked Annan to stand up, put her hand on the fish tank, and put her wrist in the sun.

"Remember not to speak for a while. I won't let you speak, so don't say a word."

After warning Annan, Zhi Ji used her fingernails to stroke Annan's slender white wrist lightly, and at the same time whispered: "Silent things come to this urn... Forgotten blood comes to this urn."

Blood spurted out of Annan's wrist instantly.

But it wasn't red blood, but it wasn't dark red either.

It was a gray-black paste as thick as ink. As soon as it appeared, it was like escaping from the sun, flowing quickly over the skin and falling from the fingertips.

It left no trace on Annan's skin or even discolored his skin.

Looking at this thing, Annan instantly thought of the filling of black sesame dumplings, and then thought of the prepared black sesame paste...

"This is the 'Silent One's ointment'."

Zhiji explained to the curious Annan: "It is also called 'Blood of Forgetting', and it is a high-level curse material."