The Lord who use immortals as food

Chapter 17 Sacrifice



On the western outskirts of the city, a double-story restaurant loomed in the night, with a closure sign hanging under the eaves.

Lao Zhang's wine shop has been open in Fenghuai for many years, until early in the month a stranger from outside wanted to buy his shop. Lao Zhang was not happy at first, but the man gave him a lot of money.

So until today, the wine shop has never opened its doors. Occasionally, a few outsiders come in and out, and they don't like to talk. People speculate that the inside is under renovation.

Behind the house is a medium-sized forest, and the underground wine cellar of the wine shop is underneath.

The wine cellar originally had only two rooms. Later, when the business was booming, Lao Zhang spent money to dig out five rooms. At that time, he was afraid of collapse and even invited old craftsmen from the county to come.

The newly expanded wine cellar has two entrances. One is in the woods, with a trail passing through it. The entrance is relatively spacious and is used for transporting large barrels of wine; the other is in the back room of the wine shop, which can only accommodate one person, so that it can be supplied and sold in a timely manner.

At this time, the entrance to the forest was open, and there were people with dull eyes holding blue fire talismans on their foreheads, walking in stiffly, as if they were plunging into the mouth of an evil beast.

Inside the wine cellar.

Everyone gathered in the largest room. If ordinary people walked in, they would inevitably cover their eyes in shock.

It was a strange feeling: the vision suddenly became brighter, but at the same time a layer was cut off. It seemed that while the light illuminated the darkness, it also deprived him of part of his vision.

When they slowly lowered their hands, they could feel what it was - what dispelled the darkness was not the bright and soft orange of the oil lamp, but an eerie white and blue.

Most people have only seen three colors of light—white sunlight, orange firelight, and bright moonlight. But burning brightly in the center of the wall is a fourth color, as if coming from some unknown and mysterious ghost realm.

The movement of the flame was also very different from normal flames, appearing much slower and weaker, giving people a feeling of tranquility, hardness, viscosity and even coldness.

On the wall behind the flames, the huge abstract fire symbol was carved very standardly, and it was also colored, half black and purple, half red gold, with a solemn and strange sense of ritual.

In front of the flame was a stand, on which was enshrined a strangely shaped stick, made of bronze and covered with complicated and dizzying patterns. One end is extremely sharp, as if it was made for assassination, and the other end is gourd-shaped, seemingly a container. Perhaps it was an illusion under the strange light, but the gourd seemed to be breathing and squirming.

Seven people had already stood in the room, six of them stood in front of the flames with blank eyes, and one, wearing a white robe and a sword on his waist, stood waiting at the entrance.

After an unknown amount of time, heavy footsteps sounded, getting closer and closer, and then there was the sound of the door being pushed.

The smell of blood filled the nostrils. The person untied the black robe and threw it aside. He threw the last sacrifice on the ground, then took out a porcelain bottle and swallowed a few pills of wound medicine.

His body was covered in blood, a split wound on his back soaked through his clothes, and several streams of blood had dried running down his left arm. The most serious ones were on his chest and abdomen, where there were two puncture wounds. The bleeding in these wounds has long been stopped, but they have not been carefully bandaged.

For Wu Zaigu, tonight was also a busy night.

In fact, the foreshadowing was buried last night. The fish that suddenly fell out of the net for some unknown reason caused the ceremony to go wrong. Even though he had made up for it in time, the backlash of asking "Dragon Tongue" to click for the second time would not be alleviated at all.

Fortunately, there was a father and daughter for him to have some fun with, otherwise there would be nowhere to vent his anger.

In order to prevent what happened last night from happening again, Wu Zaigu had to go there in person tonight.

However, when they arrived at the county government office, the magical weapon that came at just the right time was an accident. Unexpectedly, the five-line waste was actually the direct descendant of Xiaoyunshan. By coincidence, it really brought some threats to him.

He could have calmly retreated and come back after temporarily avoiding the sharp attack, but the man's careless and wasteful behavior after joining the sect really angered him, so he refused to dodge and stabbed him to death head-on.

However, this battle left almost no manpower on his side, so he had to personally catch the sacrifices that had not yet arrived one by one.

Although there were some twists and turns, in the end these seven materials were all here, and when the time came, they would be given a holy body to inherit God's grace.

Wu Zaigu glanced at the dull faces lined up in front of him, nodded with satisfaction, closed his eyes and let the white-robed man bandage his wounds.

Time passes little by little.

There was no leakage in the cellar, but Wu Zaigu seemed to have a precise dial in his heart. At a certain moment after waiting for a long time, the dial clicked, and he opened his eyes.

The time has come.

The next moment, the handle of the pointed gourd pole glowed like fire, and seven blue tentacles suddenly sprouted, blooming like a strange flower. The ends of these tentacles are cone-shaped spines, and the interior of those cones seems to be rippling with viscous liquid.

The man in white robes who was already standing aside picked up the seven small bronze bottles he had prepared and placed them one by one under the tentacles.

Wu Zaigu changed into a brand new black robe and a pair of brand new boots. He solemnly and carefully washed his hands, not missing any detail. After washing his hands, he took two steps forward and came to the pointed gourd. Stand quietly with your eyes closed.

The man in white robe stood solemnly in front, holding a book in both hands, and began to recite. The deep and distant voice echoed in the small space: "In pursuit of the ancient times, the universe is infinite, and the wisdom is chaotic; Pan Wa shows his power, Xuan Huang Beginning..."

The almost "grand" prayers echoed in the room, as if in a solemn and solemn temple in ancient times, or on the top of the lofty and majestic Mount Tai, the emperor led his ministers to report his achievements in governing the country to heaven to prove the legitimacy of the destiny. where.

But this place is just a dark and dank underground wine cellar in a remote small town. There are no emperors or ministers, only pale and sickly men, the lingering smell of blood and men and women who look like walking corpses.

"I look up to the Taiyi True Dragon Immortal Lord, who succeeds the heavens and establishes the ultimate rule, the divine rule; all living beings bow their heads, and all spirits follow..."

Strange flames as graceful as ghosts and as dangerous as ice and fire danced in the small space. Along with the prayers, those tentacles, as if they were spiritual, penetrated into the bronze cup one after another and slowly injected the liquid into it.

"I have received great kindness in this world, and now I have given you back my support. I respectfully show my blood, and I only tell those below the level of immortality..."

This is a sacrificial article, and of course it is a sacrifice, and the only sacrifices here are...

The seven pairs of dull eyes were filled with fanaticism, and they were restless in place. Only the first boy got the answer and dragged his steps towards the small bottles.

"The Holy Spirit will never give up when he prays, and he will accept small gifts..."

The young man held the Otaru in reverence and hunger.

The man stretched his neck and chanted: "Shang Xiang!!"

The young man held the small bottle in both hands, with a foolish and enthusiastic expression. He raised his head and drank the wine in one gulp.

The small bronze bottle rolled to the ground with a clang, and the boy's arms dropped, motionless.


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