Chapter 38 Chapter 10 is in his hands, he holds

A tall man in black robes stepped out of the shadows of the sanctuary.Saryon saw him, handsome, with silver hair, and a congenial smile on his face.But the smile was fake, the kind only a well-trained conjurer could do: the lips and facial muscles were tensed and strained to keep it in that position, and the There was something greasy about the man's tone, but there was a sense of awe beneath that surface glib. "I really thought you were slain, my friend," said the man, coming up to Joram and standing, looking at him brightly. "I can see the theater advertising: Resurrection at the request of a broad audience." Joram didn't even look at him, let alone answer him.The man laughed.

"Come on, old friend, you survived a gunshot wound with four bullets, any one of which you'd find fatal, and I'd love to know how you pulled the trick, were you wearing a bulletproof vest? Or maybe Yes..." He glanced at Saryon as he spoke, and the Catalyst knew in his heart that those quick glances of bright, bright eyes had done their research and that he was recognized and reserved for later. "Perhaps it was you who brought our friend back to earth, Father Saryon. Yes, I know you, and Joram has told me a great deal about you, and so I imagine he has said a great deal about me to you, too. I'm Manju, the Magician—a rather dramatic name, I admit, but it would look good in a theater marquee. If you save Joram, Father, I'll do it for you Buy a tent, and all the folding chairs your evangelistic heart could want!"

"If you mean that I healed Joram, then I tell you that I am a catalyst saint, not a wizard." Saryon saw the abyss of his dream opening its dark, deadly mouth before him.He must proceed carefully and cautiously. "If what you told Joram is true, you've lived long enough in this world to know that Catalyst Saints are very limited in their ability to heal wounds, and besides, not even a mage can turn a man from— —” "Don't let him haunt you, Father," interrupted Joram coldly. "He knows very well that you can't cure me." Manju made an elegant pleading gesture. "Have pity on me, satisfy my curiosity, I swear I'd be really sad to see you dead, it's such a shock."

"I'm sure you will be sad," said Joram coldly. "Help me up." He ordered the Catalyst Saints, and regardless of Saryon's persuasion, he struggled to stand up, leaned against a broken porch pillar, and looked at Manju warily. "The person who died outside was not me, you watched me come through the teleportation corridor." "Maybe I saw it." Manju replied casually, keeping his eyes on Joram. "It's unbelievably similar, who—" "Sin'jin." Joram's breath came weakly, and Saryon moved closer. Manju nodded. "Ah, I'm starting to get a little bit of it. That teapot. I underestimated you, my friend. It was a very clever ruse to send that fellow here, dressed up like you, did you ever think it was a trap Or did he tell you? I think he's an untrustworthy villain, like that big fat priest, Vanya. A killer sent by him to take my harvest from me, but the Archbishop will His treachery paid the price." The sorcerer shrugged. "They'll all have to pay." Joram staggered a few steps, nearly fell, braced himself, shook his head angrily, and refused Saryon's offer of help.

"You need to be healed, Joram," said Manju, examining his wound coldly. "Fortunately, the wound is close to the palm. Thanks to those teleportation corridors, the priest can send us to my headquarters with a word. Catalyst saints, open a teleportation corridor." "I can't open—" Saryon was about to say, but was interrupted by a joyous yell. "Come inside! Don't be afraid!" Gwendelin ran towards the porch from the old sacrificial stone where she had been sitting. Even in the dark courtyard wall of the church, her bright eyes shone with fear. .

"Ge Wen, don't!" Qiao Lang grabbed her. "You can't go outside—" Gwendelyn easily broke free from her husband's limp hand, but instead of running outside, she stood on the porch, her hands outstretched. "Come in! Come in!" she kept saying, like a hostess welcoming a long-awaited guest. "Don't be afraid," she continued, with a hint of sadness in her voice now. "Are you still in pain? It will be gone soon, it's just a false pain, it's just remembered by the part of your body that's holding on to the life force. Let it go, things will be easier, yes For you, the war is over."

"War? What war is she talking about?" Joram asked, turning to the magician. "Battle of Gettysburg?" The magician shrugged. "Waterloo? Maybe she fantasizes about being Napoleon today." "You know better than that!" replied Joram.His eyes glowed with fever, and sweat ran down his pale face. "You know her power, she's talking to the dead... My God!" He suddenly realized something and whispered. "You have attacked Merilon!" "Don't be too hard on Major Polis, Joram, after all, he's a fighter, and you can't expect him to hang around like a young bull in a pen in a slaughterhouse."

"It does no good, you can't penetrate the city's magical shield." "Oh, that's exactly where you're wrong, my friend. The stupid Major actually came up with a clever idea, he turned the troop transport into an attack ship, and he planned to use their laser cannons to destroy the magic circle Top. This may not be able to pierce the magic, but it can drain the mana of those who cast it, so that the protective shield will soon disintegrate, and the Crystal Palace will soon fall from the kingdom of heaven, and the crashed There'll be those huge chunks of marble—what do they call them, Three Sisters? Poor ladies, they'll smash themselves to pieces on the ground, too."

"Thousands will die!" Saryon exclaimed.He stared out, across the plain, to see a field of flames rising into the sky.Around the city, the metal shells of animals that crawl like ants glisten in the sun.That was all his eyes could see, and mentally he saw much, much more. Prince Garrod - if alive - was fighting bravely, but he was bewildered and discouraged by the sudden onslaught; Lord Samuels, Lady Samuels, and their children, and Countless aristocratic families who built their homes on those floating marbles died in horror, smashing their heads in the falling wreckage; the Crystal Palace hit the ground and exploded into countless pieces of sharp knives. glass shards.

"Just let your life go," repeated Gwendelyn sadly. "If only I could get there!" Joram whispered. "I can stop—what am I talking about?" He laughed bitterly. "I brought them all this!" He slumped down on the porch pillar, covering his eyes with his blood-stained hand. "The time of prophecy has come, Joram," said the magician. "Let them hold their own destiny, what about that charming little prophecy? 'In his hands shall the end of the world be held—'" "—may be able to save," Gwendelyn added. Joram, in despair, didn't even hear what she said.But Saryon heard it.He turned and looked at her intently, and she was staring out, at the besieged city, her eyes wide and unfocused, a sweet yet sour smile on her lips.The Catalyst Saint walked slowly and quietly so as not to disturb her, and put his hand on her shoulder.

"What are you talking about, my dear?" "She's talking nonsense!" the magician blurted out impatiently. "That's enough, remind you not to forget, there is still a killer outside, catalyst saint, open the teleportation corridor—" A hand stretched out, trying to pull Saryon back from the edge of the cliff, he had to stretch out his hand, grab it... "Go on, my dear," he said eagerly, his voice trembling, and he tried to suppress his excitement so as not to frighten the woman. Gwendelyn looked around her with a dreamy expression on her face. "There's a man here—an old man—a bishop. Where are you? Oh, yes, right there, in the back." She pointed vaguely. "He waited for centuries for someone to listen to him. It was all a mistake. He said it like a spoiled, runaway child. Then the Iron War broke out, Everything was scattered. He prayed how he could change the world. Almighty Emin promised his supplicants, hoping that if human beings could walk on the path he walked, they could come back from the dangerous road. But the bishop was too Weakened, he saw the future, he saw the terrible danger, he saw the promised deliverance, and what he saw made him dizzy and painful. The words of warning that Almighty Emin wanted to offer, had not yet Speak, the words are not yet spoken, yet men in fear have taken the warning as a prophecy." "Fear... a warning..." murmured Saryon, a light illuminating his soul. "Joran, don't you understand?" Joram didn't even lift his head, it was bowed, his face hidden in a mat of tangled hair. "Never mind it, Father," he muttered. "It's pointless to keep fighting!" "No, it makes sense!" Saryon was overjoyed and raised his hands to the heaven. "My God! My Creator! Will you forgive me? Joram, there is a way—" There was a sudden bang, a wail, and fragments of stone splashed all around them. Joram pinned Saryon to the floor, and Manju flattened himself against the pillar. "Gwen!" Joram yelled, trying to reach out and grab his wife.The sound puzzled her, and she stood in the open space, looking around in a daze.But before he could catch her, invisible hands pulled her out of danger and urged her to hurry to the back of the church. "She's all right, Joram! The undead will protect her!" cried Saryon. Another bomb hit a colonnade behind them, and the sound shook the entire sanctuary. "We have to get out of here!" Manju reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out the displacement pulse gun, adjusted it, and fired a burst of light where he saw movement near the sacrificial stone.I saw a puff of smoke and rock dust rising from the stone, leaving a charred mark.Taking advantage of the cover of the flames, Joram hastily grabbed the Dark Sword and dodged behind the pillar beside the magician. "Over there, Father! Get down!" Saryon crawled on the cold stone floor and reached the colonnade as well.Leaning against one of the posts, Joram peeked out into the garden, but could see no enemy.Manju fired fire again, but missed again. "Open a portal, Father!" he snapped. "I can't do it!" gasped Saryon. Another bomb went off in the air, and Manju hurried back to his own colonnade to lean against, while Saryon crouched on the floor in a heap; Joram looked too weak to move, or maybe he don't care at all.Holding the dark sword in his hand, the wound began to bleed again, and the blood on the sleeve became bigger and bigger. The Catalyst Saint looked anxiously at Joram, then back at Gwen, but he could barely see her, and the undead managed to persuade her to hide behind the bombed-out altar.A ray of sunlight filtered through a slit in the ceiling, filtered through the clouds of dust, hit her blonde hair, and made her blue eyes sparkle. Manju followed his gaze. "Take us out, Catalyst Saint, otherwise, in the name of God, I will use this thing on her!" When he said, he pointed the weapon in his hand at Ge Wen. "Joran, unless you're traveling faster than the speed of light, stay still." "Joran, don't move!" Saryon put a hand on his friend's arm to stop him, then turned to face the Master of Magic. "I can't open the teleportation corridor to enter here, because there is no teleportation corridor that can be opened here." "You lied!" The magician pointed his displacement pulse gun at Ge Wen. "I swear to Almighty Emin, if I could, I would open it!" Saryon said excitedly. "There are no teleportation corridors in the Necromancer Temple! This is a place that is enshrined as a god, a sacred place: only necromancers are allowed to enter, they have never allowed a teleportation corridor to be opened here, the only one is outside —” Saryon nodded outward. "Near the sacrificial stone." "The executioner knows too!" said Joram gravely, his brow covered with sweat, and his wet hair curled around his face. "That's exactly why he's in that position." Manju looked at Saryon, studying the face of the catalyst saint intently, then cursed and dropped his weapon. "So we're stuck here." Another bang hit the stone colonnade near the magician, a stone scraped his face, and he swore, wiping the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand, and fired too. up.Then he stopped and looked thoughtfully out at the distant plain. "We are besieged," he repeated, reaching into the pocket of his robe. "But it won't be trapped for long." He took out another small metal contraption, held it down with his thumb, a beam of light flickered, and there was a scratching sound inside, which sounded to Saryon like a long The clawed animal struggles to escape. The magician picked up the device and spoke to it. "Major Polis! Major Polis!" There was an echo, but the accompanying scratching sound was too noisy to hear what was said. The magician had a scowling face and shook the thing lightly. "Major Polis!" he shouted again, angrily. Saryon stared at the implement in horror. "Above Emin!" he whispered to Joram. "Where did he lock up this Major Polis?" "No." Joram replied tiredly, almost laughing.He was still standing, but seemed to be standing there purely by sheer force of will. "The major is in Merilon, and he has a similar device in his hand. Through it, the two of them can communicate with each other. Shhh, keep quiet, let me listen!" He motioned Saryon to be silent. Saryon could not understand what Manju was saying, and the magician was speaking his own language, and Saryon had to watch Joram's face for clues as to what they were doing. Seeing his friend's lips drawn into a stern line, Saryon asked softly, "What's going on?" "He's asking for an air strike, and they're talking about redirecting an attack craft that's attacking Merilon, and sending it here." "That's right, a simple way to break out, indeed." The magician said complacently, turned off the intercom, and put it back in the pocket of his robe. "The attack boat's lasers will strafe the entire garden very effectively, reducing our gun-wielding friend to ashes. Then the ship will land and send us off. There will be a doctor on board who will give you some stimulants to so that you can continue to live, so that you can use your dark sword to help me win this battle of Merilon. Of course, you must always remember that I will hold your lovely wife firmly in my hands , not to mention the Catalyst Saint, and if you dare—how should I say it?—sing with me, they'll both be damned." Manju jerked back the sleeve of his robe, looked at an instrument on his wrist, and said, "I'll be there in two or three minutes." If Saryon could not understand the unfamiliar words, he understood their significance.He looked at Joram, whose expressionless face and eyes were closed.Was he really so disappointed, so failed, so hurt, that he was going to give in?Is it really pointless to continue fighting as he said? Saryon wanted to pray to Emin, to call for the existence of that great god, and to desperately grab the big hand stretched out to him, but fear controlled the catalyst saint, and it pinched Saryon's hand tightly with its stone-like fingers. Throat, suffocating his confidence.The hand wobbled and then disappeared.Catalyst Saints are painfully aware that all that is but an illusion.