"I helped you find this place, sent magical signals to lure you here, and tried so many traps in advance for you-" the youth's face showed horror, but the Outer God's tentacles bound him so securely that all that was left of his body that could be moved was his head and his right hand, and struggling looked unusually comical to struggle, "You can't do that! You are the high and mighty Pope! You should keep your word!"
"Why should His Holiness, the human Pope, preach about keeping promises with a despicable half-blood?" Bertram sneered.
"Hell! What they say is true! You're such a liar! You the-"
The half-blood youth's curses didn't last.
Several clusters of crimson flames rose and burned from various parts of his body at the same time, and in just a few seconds, all of them, along with his tentacles, were incinerated into ink-red, searing ashes.
Drift away.
The golden key fell on the hard blood crystal stone floor with a tinkling sound.
Bertram calmly straightened the collar of his robes and reached out to dust off the dust that had gotten onto his body in disgust before maneuvering the mage's hand to pick up the key for himself.
The end of the key was engraved with bat wings, a symbol of the Bloods, and a blooming rose emblazoned in the center.
"A rosebush?" Bertram muttered in a small voice.
There were six Blood Clans in total, each with their own coat of arms, but this one didn't belong to any of the known clans.
There was enough strangeness that Bertram didn't put too much stock in it, and he instantly inserted the key into the keyhole embedded in the blood crystal wall.
Slowly, he twisted it, and a violent tremor and a dull thud followed.
The candles were extinguished in an instant, the altar was sinking, the walls in front of it and on both sides of it retreated and flipped over and tilted back to become a platform, and the sound of gears and bearings turning and rubbing was heard and heard.
In a short time, the original dead end was transformed into a downward staircase by a complex mechanism.
Similar to the way they came, the lone bridge made of bright red blood crystals hung in mid-air, only there were no longer silver-white walls in all directions, nor was there a blood crystal ceiling overhead.
Void.
A darkness deeper than night.
The mists of flowing purple lightning were as vast as the sea, spreading everywhere as far as the eye could see. Deep within the mists seemed to be standing an iron-colored monument with rusted chains wrapped around it.
Bertram hesitated to take a step, he looked towards the blackness, but he felt as if there was something hiding there that was also staring at him, a kind of eerie cold feeling as sticky as a crawling insect with tentacles climbed to his heart.
But at the same time, he also noticed that on the wide platform at the end of the stairs below, a certain transparent sphere-like object was enshrined in the golden and red altar.
Even though it was far away, he could still feel the splendor of the light it emitted.
So holy, that was what Bertram was looking for!
Heart doubts and caution swept away, His Holiness no longer hesitate, and then can not wait to lift the robe and quickly walk down the stairs, Tuk Tuk footsteps hidden in the black mist for a long time without echo.
Traveled to half, suddenly a enough to tear the eardrums of the harsh roar from the darkness of the nothingness out.
Red skin is like flames, two pairs of black curved horns proudly in the top of the head on both sides, the veins are clear and tough and strong flesh and blood entangled in the white bone spines to form a pair of horrifying demon wings.
The demon with the blood and bone axe and spiny chains tore through the darkness and sliced through the air, and like a gust of bloody wind, he flapped his wings and descended in front of Bertram with extreme violence, blocking his way.
The left half of the face of this demon who served the Dreadful Masochism was a ghastly white bone, with murky impurities flowing from his ghostly blue eyes, dark red blood crystal lightning twined around him in flashes of light and darkness, and scorching flames blazing at the soles of his feet.
"Bloodthirsty Daemon." Bertram recognized the visitor, and he smiled contemptuously, "A lost Dreadmongering lapdog."
There were eight supreme Demon Monarchs under the seat of the Dread Abuse Blood God, and eight Bloodthirsty Daemons under the seat of each Demon Monarch, and they were an existence whose power was second only to that of the Bloodthirsty Demon Monarchs.
Demons reconstruct their shells from the overflowing magical energy of the Winds of Blood Crystals, and their souls live forever, and mortals are left with nothing but despair and death in the face of the attack of the legions of Chaos Demons.
With blood crystals everywhere, it wasn't unusual for a bloodthirsty archdemon to support a present, but it was just a bit out of place in the ruins that served the mother goddess Lamia.
Bertram didn't have the heart to study this insignificant abnormality, he only wanted to get the 『developer prop』 behind the demon as soon as possible.
This thirty-year long plan was a precise chain that allowed no room for error.
He had waited long enough for this moment.
The Daemon swung a giant axe taller than a man and roared with a barbed iron chain thicker than his arm, but the moment before the axe blade and barbed chain were about to fall on Bertram, the Pope just waved his scepter to his side with a light face.
It was as light as dusting off a noisy and annoying fly.
The great demon with its tendrils of lightning and flames disappeared out of thin air from in front of Bertram, only to fall out of a circular portal that unfolded not far away, and then crash into another circular portal directly below.
The two portals seemed to be connected, and the manic and violent bloodthirsty Daemon just kept repeating the cycle of falling, disappearing, appearing, and falling, and the roars and snarls were intermittently far and near.
"Insignificant lackeys, better play on your own side." Bertram glanced coldly.
In front of an all-professional full-level player character, this kind of Daemon wasn't worth mentioning.
"Bertram' was the most commonly used character of his most commonly used account on the official server of COG, the so-called 'big number', and it was the biggest number.
After crossing over, he had awakened in this world as 'Bertram'.
As for why, he didn't know and it didn't matter, a full level start was better than practicing from level one.
That's it.
Now there is no more blockage.
The only thing left in His Holiness's eyes now was the ticked-off jewel on the altar sunk into the bright red velvet, and as if possessed, he could see nothing else and hear nothing else, just one step forward at a time.
Bertram would never admit that he had fallen into some kind of seductive magic; it was his own desire, his own wish.
He eventually made it to the altar and was able to get a closer look at just how gorgeous and eye-catching the sacred object really was.
Transparent, yet not completely transparent.
Smooth and round like a pearl, yet blooming with colorful hues, there seemed to be some sort of golden floss gently fluttering and flowing beneath the glazed shell.
A silver-white metal ring seemed to extend beneath the precious pearl, shallowly buried in the velvet locket.
A ... ring?
Instinctively, it seemed as if something very bad would happen, but the hand lifted and extended almost uncontrollably, then gently grasped it.
The dreamy, holy pearl was squeezed between his fingers, still emanating that unrealistic, illusory luster, the glazed shell like a mirror, from which Bertram seemed to be able to see his own greedily intoxicated look.
Inexplicably, the shallow scoffing of a woman came from above his head.
Fear.
Cold sweat.
Wanting to let go.
But could not control himself.
His arms and legs no longer belonged to him.
Before his eyes it seemed ... streams of ghostly blue data flickered by ...0 and strings of numbers made up of 1's darted to take over the field of vision before the combination recompiled itself into gibberish and text ...
[Bertram - Male - Imperial Human]
[Prayer Priest - lv100]
[Scorched Sun Spectrum - Pathway of Light (Sequence 1) - Blazing Sun Angel]
[Life 100%]
Magic @#unknown
The unstable azure screen unfolded in the field of vision, the writing blurred and flickered, only vaguely recognizable as the first five lines, all the subsequent ones were numbers and symbols of unknown significance.
The familiar yet unfamiliar character attributes panel, not far removed from the interface of COG, sent a chill down Bertram's spine.
For thirty years, he had decided that this was a real otherworld, but what he saw now shattered all previously established perceptions.
This was indeed a character that he had previously operated on a previously used account, and these data were all character attributes from before the service was shut down.
Before there was time for Bertram to be more surprised and confused, the writing on the screen began to flicker again, and the following four lines all became garbled, leaving only the first line barely recognizable.
But even this first line, which showed the most basic information about the character, began to appear abnormal - his name, Bertram, was being erased and replaced with another name.