I Became the Wrong Race

248 – Three Abominations (6)

This is an absolutely outrageous statement. Fittingly, the space itself felt frozen.

An atmosphere where it is difficult to even breathe. Not only the emperor, but even the prophet was looking at Llewelyn with unkind eyes.

However, in the midst of such a transcendent gaze, Llewelyn leisurely put her hand in her pocket.

On the contrary, he frowned slightly as he looked at the emperor, who looked at him with a pitiful look, and the meaning behind that expression was as follows.

‘How dare you make that look at your brother?’

When the emperor realized what that meant, he frowned as if he was even more displeased.

There were also undeniable facts.

The emperor is related by blood to Llewelyn and Lucilla.

Perhaps because the emperor knew this, he just looked down at Llewelyn and did not say or do anything.

There was no need for that.

“… “That’s nonsense.”

The Prophet seemed to think differently and said so, but Llewelyn didn’t even give him a glance.

“I don’t think it’s up to you to judge.”

“Who is to judge if not me? How…”

“Are you a fool who realizes that you were presumptuous only after being burned?”

Although the words were meant to irritate her, Llewelyn was a little taken aback as her deathly energy and magical energy surrounding the prophet’s body began to fluctuate greatly.

It worked out as she intended, but she didn’t know she would react so violently.

When Llewellyn’s eyes naturally rolled and looked at the Prophet, the Prophet let out a long breath with an expressionless expression that could faintly sense her anger.

“Isn’t it you who was presumptuous, blood bag?”

Following that voice, her magical power coiled loudly. It looks like it will form and attack at any time.

Llewellyn felt the flow of her her magic power as her her anti-magic power her, and she clenched her fists lightly and then released them.

“Do you really know who is in front of you and what kind of person you are talking about?”

As she loosens her clenched fist and extends her index finger, light pools at the tip of her index finger.

A line segment made of light. A weapon unprecedented in this world.

It was the sword of the night sky, a line that could summon a cluster of stars.

Even after reading Llewelyn’s expression, the prophet did not attack.

“What you see in front of you is a vessel that He personally created and a dragon that has been observing the world for a long time for His glory His! That noble name you blurt out as if you were calling a friend was originally meant for a bloodbag like you… !”

“It’s noisy.”

The dragon pauses when Llewell Lin interrupts her. As Llewelyn looked up at the dragon, she naturally moved her right hand.

One vertical stroke, one short horizontal stroke.

It divides the space, and constellations form in its hands.

Pazzzzzzzz!

Space becomes entangled, and the entangled space becomes a line segment made of light, forming the blade, hilt, and crosshair.

A famous sword that destroys and tears apart space.

A transcendent power that no one in history has ever possessed and that did not even exist until Llewellyn held it in her hands

A great sword that makes even prophets feel a sense of crisis and a distant feeling the moment they see it.

Llewellyn held the hilt of her sword made of such light with her right hand.

“I understand that you are a dishonest man, but it is not right to try to make others be like that.”

Swordplay is in full swing. Feeling the illusion that space was distorting along the direction of the blade, the prophet felt the divinity contained in the body of the sword and the blood bag.

A sign that is completely opposite to the ‘respite of death’ that is completed by weaving the necromancer’s body.

It was, so to speak, something that seemed to drag down immortality and pin it to the ground. The prophet’s expression hardened, and he sensed that it would be dangerous if he touched that blade.

“Do you want to stop me?”

Such swordplay is twisted just as it was aimed at the prophet.

“You don’t like what I’m saying?”

Black armor suddenly appears on the body.

“Or is he planning something else and am I getting in his way?”

Black liquid, sacred blood, is applied to the already black armor without any gaps.

“Then don’t just whine, go for it.”

The blood bag, which instantly became a black knight, spoke without hesitation. Before I knew it, blood was flowing inside the burning blue light.

The Precious Blood, which was constantly moving, was creating a slight vibration in itself. The blade, which could cut through anything the moment it touched it, was creating a weight that would only affect the sword strike at the moment of cutting.

A task that even Llewellyn does instinctively. An art that reproduces the ‘most perfect weight of a sword strike’, utilizing the experience of being assimilated as a swordsman.

This is not an easy opponent. It’s not just any blood bag. It seemed like he was saying that.

The prophet could not admit it. For an unqualified person like that to ascend to heaven was a disaster he should never have dreamed of.

The only ones who should ascend to the sky are those who deserve it.

At the far end of the line he could tolerate, there were the beggars who had no choice but to join him on the journey, such as the emperor, empress, and courtiers.

If ‘father’ cannot be restored and ‘mother’ cannot rise.

I thought I was suitable for the position. In the future that the prophet saw, the sight of a dragon ruling the whole world came to mind.

We came this far for that one future. I came this far to avoid the inevitable death I was facing.

The prophet made up his mind. Danger, crisis.

There were plenty. It started with running away from death.

He dealt with the magic and death energy seething in his body and spread it throughout his body. The emperor stepped in front of him, ready to turn into a dragon at any time.

“The doll…”

Just when I was about to tell him to stay out.

He felt some intangible pressure constricting his body.

The words that were about to come out of my mouth stop.

Sensation of someone strangling the neck. However, there was no hand actually squeezing my neck, and I felt something that I couldn’t even resist.

I can’t breathe. Even though the body does not even need to breathe, it instantly reminds me of suffocation.

Death approaches. One step at a time, slowly.

Until the moment I stand next to you. Only then did the prophet recognize the person standing before him.

“Mother…”

It is the will of this planet and the sum total of life that sprouted around the time this planet was created.

In addition, it is the ending where life dies, and the transcendental person who took charge of the ‘end of life’ even before the god of death was born.

I call upon you, Mother Netel.

Even Llewelyn released the numbing pressure from her body, and it appeared, borrowing the emperor’s body her her her.

I hear Lorian’s squeak from behind me. Elimule had already fainted and was falling down.

She didn’t do it out of malice. The soul is simply trying to escape from the body, like a bug running away when frightened by a huge shadow.

The only ones who can endure are those who have obtained the equivalent or those who have the qualifications.

Llewelyn planted her feet hard.

[Explosive leap]

A message that passes by in an instant. Her body rises, and her right foot naturally reaches forward and presses on the emperor’s exposed abdomen.

[Explosive leap]

Utilize the continuous use of the leap obtained by killing the dragon.

The leap used as it was in the air struck the emperor’s body with inexplicable pressure, and the emperor’s body flew as if it were being bounced.

Kwa-gwa-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-gawa!

It breaks down the wall, breaks through the ceiling, and bounces off. Llewellyn planted both her feet on the floor and used her leap to catch up again.

The body rises along the broken tunnel, and the body penetrates the piles of earth and sand that surround the front, back, left, and right.

Llewelyn finally caught up with the emperor in his floating form his, or more precisely, Netel, who had taken over his body his.

He looked at the emperor, who stood as if nothing had happened.

When I landed in front of it, I felt something.

Something that looks like a watching eye.

Feeling goosebumps running across her skin, Llewelyn glared at the emperor.

There was not a single wound on the body.

He had a feeling that he probably wouldn’t get cut even if he tried to swing his sword.

It is the same as cutting the moon reflected in water with a knife and not splitting it.

More than anything… Llewellyn was reluctant to cut down the emperor who had the same face as his sister.

So Llewelyn did not attack.

Just staring at the emperor, Llewelyn waited for the next action.

How will it come out?

Would I be angry about the sudden attack?

Or should I pretend not to know and rush to do business?

You never know. You may read Llewelyn’s thoughts and come up with an answer right away, or you may move on to negotiations.

Llewelyn opened her mind, anticipating all possibilities.

“Blood bag—!”

She listened to the voice that was heard at the same time as the prophet who followed sat down behind her.

Well, she didn’t have the kind of voice that could be described in words.

First of all, Llewelyn didn’t even fully understand what he was saying. She couldn’t even tell with what voice those words were spoken and what words they were made of.

The meaning only vaguely resonated in her mind.

It was a very long sentence. It’s a long word, but it was immediately stuck in my mind and a strange, if not unfamiliar, sensation swept through my body.

It wasn’t until she reached the bottom of Lorian, where she had followed her prophet, that Llewelyn understood the ‘language’ that had echoed in her mind.

She still didn’t understand, but the meaning remained in her mind.

“… “You.”

It was welcoming her Llewelyn.

She was grateful that she came to her feet, that she came to her in her overwhelming loneliness and her emptiness.

Llewelyn felt strange in those words.

Because the only person who welcomed her words was Llewelyn.

When you hear something like that, you’re usually mistaken.

Only Llewelyn is welcome, the rest are not.

The rest just pretend not to know or avoid it. That’s it.

But that wasn’t the case.

Llewelyn was able to understand exactly what was being said in her head, without even a hint of distortion.

It wasn’t just the feeling that Llewelyn was the only one who was happy and that the rest were considered uninvited guests.

“The other people here… That there are people… “You don’t even feel it?”

Mother Netel did not even recognize other beings.

It’s like humans not being able to see the germs crawling on their skin.

It’s like not even recognizing a bug sitting on your coat.

To Netel, all beings except Llewelyn were no different from bugs or bacteria.

The difference in level was so drastic that it didn’t even recognize everyone except Llewelyn.

Even the emperor did not feel and possess her directly and speak her words.

There was just a ‘comfortable seat’, like the chair had armrests and the bed had a place to lean against.

“What do you mean?”

The prophet asked. He glared at the emperor with a distorted face as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Netel, Great Mother! I am here! “Please look down on me, me who has been assisting you all these years!”

Arrogant words that don’t know whether it’s an order or a request.

However, Netel, who had borrowed the emperor’s body, did not even react.

I just quietly gave Llewelyn a distant look.

She opened her mouth.

Even though the emperor’s mouth is closed and his eyes are closed.

Once again, the words echoed in Llewelyn’s mind.

With a ‘meaning’ that only Llewelyn can understand.

She said.

Let’s talk about the future.