When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#481 - I like to joke

Looking at the stone wall and archway at the end of the corridor, Horn said nothing.

Everyone was silent, digesting the content of the murals in the corridor.

This corridor should be a rectangular corridor, with half of it buried in the stone wall, or completely lost to time.

"Are you sure this is a thousand-year-old palace?" Jeanne asked the monk in charge of surveying.

"Absolutely certain." The monk in charge of surveying wiped the sweat from his forehead. "If not a thousand years, then at least eight hundred. Some of the materials here are only found in the ancient Elven Empire, and have disappeared with the desertification of vampires and the West Continent."

"Could it have been dismantled from other ancient sites?" Jeanne asked relentlessly.

"That's possible, but the problem is that the path was so narrow that only one person could pass at a time, making it impossible for these huge materials to pass through." The monk gritted his teeth. "It's possible that this is a local palace that sank into the mountain due to an earthquake."

"Who would build a palace in this remote corner?" Witte wandered around the corridor in disbelief, still unable to figure out what style it was.

"Have you all seen these murals?" Turning around, Horn asked the two demon hunters behind him.

"We've seen them."

"What do you think?"

"It's not necessarily true." Aigron said indifferently, "I've seen many of these ancient ruins. Aren't there few evil gods who deliberately fabricate or distort facts?"

Horn and Armand exchanged glances, which was true.

Although there are murals now, they cannot be confirmed by a single piece of evidence, and they cannot be sure that this is true.

Moreover, when it comes to the fabrication of ancient relics and holy objects, the early church did have a dark history.

For example, Elven scholar Peruzzi Oni once calculated that the Messianic cloths collected in various churches and castles throughout the Kingdom of France, if sewn together, could span the Zealand Sea.

The churches and castles in the flower hills alone hid tens of thousands of them, and some nobles even had nearly a thousand, claiming that they could redeem five hundred thousand years of sin.

Although the church repeatedly stated that Messira was a pure asexual virgin without menstruation, it could not stop the enthusiasm of the lords everywhere.

Some lords even repainted ancient murals or even rewrote their families into ancient books.

The most classic example is the ancient Elven book "Dialogues," which states that there are 13 powerful families in Radiant Sun City.

However, according to the analysis of local documents by Elven scholars, nearly 500 families have been discovered.

Of course, the nobles everywhere still shamelessly labeled themselves as ancient families of thousands of years.

As for the fact that only poor people crossed the sea with Messira back then, they pretended not to know at all.

"So, the original corridor may not have had murals, and the murals in front of us were painted by local evil god believers to slander Messira." Armand coughed and deliberately raised his voice.

"Witte said... ah, yes." Halfway through speaking, Horn suddenly reacted, "We can't jump to conclusions, everyone."

Holding a torch and standing beside Horn, Jeanne said nothing, seemingly in tacit agreement.

Is that so? So it was the evil god who was drawing randomly.

After these three heavyweight figures of the Salvation Army made their conclusions, almost everyone around breathed a sigh of relief, hypnotizing themselves with prayers.

Perhaps they knew in their hearts that something was wrong, but with the endorsement of the three high-level officials, they still accepted the fact that "this is false."

Given the current high-pressure situation faced by the Salvation Army and the golden period of development that they don't know when it will end, the primary task within the Salvation Army is stability.

As for the content of the debate, it can only be traced back to its source slowly in the future.

But what exactly does this want to express?

"Let's go to the hall next door and take a look." Horn was silent for a while and said to Raphael beside him.

Aigron and other demon hunters turned around, hunched their backs, and walked into the hall through the arched door.

"Hiss——"

Almost everyone who entered the hall gasped at the first moment. What those demon hunters said about this place being weird was indeed true.

Beneath the eerie spiral geometric pattern of the dome was an altar with stone coffins placed on it.

In front of the altar was a prayer hall that was already 20 meters long and wide. It maintained the tradition of the early Messira Church, without chairs but kneeling on the ground.

The most peculiar point was that the entire hall was only half of it, as if it had been neatly cut in half by something.

On the black and white patterned tiles, there were more than a dozen or twenty angel statues carved from unknown stone on the left and right sides of the hall aisle.

Horn walked to the back of an angel statue, stretched his head over its shoulder, and tried to look at its face.

"I swear to your... cough cough..." Even Horn, who was well-informed and humorous all day long, was so frightened that he almost used foul language.

These statues were different from the statues in normal churches. Their expressions and movements were abnormally terrifying and hideous.

They either had fangs protruding from their mouths, or grew an extra head, or had deformed featherless wings on their backs, and their facial muscles were knotted with pain and anger.

If it weren't for the halos carved behind their heads to prove their angelic status, Horn would have thought these things were demons.

Most of the statues of this era were very gloomy, but they were just ugly, not to the point of being pure hellfire like the ones in front of him.

Horn walked around the prayer hall several times, touching here and there, and even poked his head into the empty stone coffin for a long time, but found nothing unusual.

"Have you not found any trace of Favarelli?" Turning around, Horn returned to the door and asked Raphael.

"No." Raphael said helplessly, "We did find traces of Favarelli near the entrance of the cave, but they did disappear after chasing him here."

"Do you know where he went?" Jeanne turned to ask the two demon hunters, especially Aigron, "I remember you. You were particularly surprised when you heard it was a dead end at the entrance of the cave."

The old demon hunter shook his head first: "We were blindfolded when we came over. Favarelli led the team, and Avar was at the end.

Everyone was pulling on the corner of the person in front of them. When we took off our blindfolds, we were outside the palace."

"Me too." Aigron shook his head. "I was also curious why this was a dead end, but I'm from the Wolf School, and my nose is particularly sensitive, so maybe I can find some clues."

"Oh?" Jeanne walked up to Aigron, looked down at him kneeling on the ground, "Are you willing to work for us?"

"I have a condition." Aigron struggled to raise his head, "If I find that road, you let me go."

"Wishful thinking, it's an honor for the Holy Maiden to ask you for help, you..."

"Wait, are you called Aigron?" Jeanne looked at the demon hunter. "Aren't you afraid that I'll tell you about your rebellion?"

"Simple, I'll just escape to Norn." Aigron said indifferently, "I don't want to stay in the land of heretics and work for heretics."

Jeanne glanced at Horn, who had been paying attention to this side, and smiled: "Let him walk around the hall. If there are really any clues, why not let him go once?"

Under the escort of two Holy Musketeers, Aigron crawled on the ground, his nose twitching flexibly, and began to crawl around the hall.

Horn then thought about the origin of this palace again. For some reason, he always felt that the so-called earthquake collapse was not very reliable.

Because just from the stone wall in this hall, it was clearly a stone wall of the mountain, but it was cut artificially.

Although this degree of neatness does not rule out the possibility of nature's uncanny workmanship, isn't this too coincidental?

Moreover, a thousand years ago was still the dark age of warlord melee, and Qianhe Valley was still the territory of beastmen and pagans.

Where did the demand come from to build such a beautiful and luxurious palace in this high mountain?

Just as Horn was thinking about how to cover up the existence of this palace next, a scream suddenly came from the hall.

"Wait, demon hunter! You! Uh——"

Horn turned his head, but saw the demon hunter named Aigron hurriedly get up, with two guards of the Holy Musketeers softly falling beside him.

While unlocking the handcuffs with the key, he ran towards the altar in the hall.

Despite wearing shackles on his feet, Aigron's speed was not much slower than ordinary people.

In the alternating light and darkness, stepping on the black and white patterned floor tiles, he ran among the hideous and terrifying stone angel statues.

"Catch him." Raphael, exasperated, pulled out a T-shaped iron rod and rushed up himself.

At this moment, Aigron had run to the altar. He jumped up and, in full view of everyone, smoothly jumped into the stone coffin on the altar.

"Mechanism, activate!"

Recalling Avar's description, Aigron lay in the stone coffin, stroking the specific colored glaze fragments inside the stone coffin one by one, and pressed down hard with his elbow.

"Boom——"

The next second, the original heavy stone coffin lid slammed shut.

Curling up excitedly, Aigron was still trembling with excitement and joy.

He helped Horn and others lead the way for this moment. Unlike those old demon hunters, he did not betray and surrender.

When he learned from these people that they had not found the tunnel, he realized that this was an excellent opportunity to escape.

At first, he didn't understand why Avar wanted to tell him the secrets of the tunnel, and even made a poisonous oath to guarantee that he wouldn't tell it.

But at this moment, he realized Avar's good intentions, which was to predict that Favarelli might abandon them and run away.

You short-sighted demon hunters, you're going to have a good time, especially that Favarelli.

Those old demon hunters complain every day about how hard and how bad it is. He doesn't think so. If you can't stand this little bit of hardship, you definitely can't do anything else.

It doesn't matter if it's a little hard and tiring now. In a few years, you can become a demon hunter master!

After being captured, you can still escape from the terrible heretics. This is how the "Aigron Master Demon Hunter Story Collection" has drama.

Comfortably leaning against the bottom of the stone coffin, Aigron let out a breath of turbid air and waited with a smile... waited... waited...

After waiting for two seconds, the smile on his face gradually disappeared and turned into doubt.

The expected feeling of weightlessness never came, but instead the sound of rapidly rising footsteps.

Could it be that he pressed the wrong thing? Impossible, he remembered clearly.

Not believing in evil, Aigron pressed it again, but the bottom of the stone coffin behind him still did not open.

Is it so slow? Or did I press the wrong thing?

When the firelight shot in from the gap in the stone coffin lid, Aigron completely panicked, and he frantically pressed the colored glaze fragments in a panic.

"Mechanism, activate, activate... you activate."

Amid Aigron's roar and the sound of stone rubbing, the coffin lid of the stone coffin was slowly pried open with iron rods.

Aigron, who was still frantically pressing the colored glaze fragments, gradually stopped moving, and he stiffly turned his head.

In the square field of vision formed by the four sides of the coffin, on the left and right sides were the expressionless faces of Horn, Armand, Raphael, and Jeanne.

The firelight shone on Aigron's face, making the sweat on his forehead shine brightly.

"Oh, I'm joking, I like to joke... ah——"