The Legend of Fatality

"Your Majesty, I am the lady's female prophet." The veiled lady spoke words that Charlie couldn't believe. "I'm telling the truth. If you die in Gunther's place, Aquitaine will thrive and prosper. Miss Olivia has no reason to go to the old lady and witch hiding in the forest. She will Your death is sad, but she will live a happy and fulfilling life. She will live a happy life, she will grow old gracefully, and die peacefully in her sleep, without any regrets. Without her, North Norson Imiron, the barbarian king of Germany, will not bring those barbarians who are barbaric, violent, and vicious with the blood lines of the ogres to our shores. He and his relatives will have nothing He died in a battle of meaning, and his name will be forgotten. "

"Stop talking," Charlie asked. "Please, please stop."

The veiled lady ignored his request and stepped forward to continue the long discussion. Starting

"If you didn't save her from the pirates you encountered on the route to the southern continent, no one would foresee that the demigod's child would be born in Olivia's womb. No one will start a war to save her. Thousands of people ’s lives will be saved. When Jaffar saw the prophecy, the child who was never born meant everything to Jaffar When you steal Olivia from him, he will tear the world to pieces to get her back. To avoid more bloodshed, my Galamonte accepted the challenge of Jafar and paid The final price.

Charlie shook his head, trying to cover up the voice of the veiled lady.

"Action and consequences, my majesty," said the veiled lady. "He died because of you. They all died because of you."

Charlie found himself standing on a plain blown by the wind, under a sky with no characteristics and no color at all. The dead people stood in a dense row, in his sight, motionless. They were all there: his father, his brother, Olivia, Gunther, Galamont, Orlando, Baron Bloom, and thousands of others were there. They stood silently, staring at him with glaring eyes, and the weight of condemnation pressed against him. His brother stood at the front, closest to him. Charlie dared not look directly at his eyes. .

"It should be you who died," they said in unison.

Charlie didn't know what was going on, and hadn't had time to speak up, but found that he had the sword of Galamont in his hand, the tip of the sword against his throat. Immediately afterwards, pain poured into his heart, tears ran down his cheeks, and sorrow occupied his mind. All he has to do is push himself forward, all the pain, all the suffering will end. It only takes a moment of pain, only a bit of pain, and ... nothing. All his sins will be washed away, like a leaf in a stream ...

"Go, my brother," Charlie's brother urged.

"Prove that you are indeed my son." Charlie's father growled. "Complete it now!"

"Do it!" Thousands of deafening voices screamed.

Charlie closed his eyes nervously, preparing to end his life.

"Mercy lady, please forgive me." Charlie took a deep breath and said sadly. "I let you down."

An unpleasant, disgusting smell stopped him. A mixture of rotten wood and mud covered with dead leaves filled his nostrils, and he was confused for a while.

"Let's do it!" The undead army screamed, but Charlie ignored them, his memory flooded back like a tide, and the illusion woven by the forest **** Ganratsa began to disintegrate around him.

He remembered that the lady took him to Felwood, and it was according to her divine will that he appeared in this place and came here at this moment.

Charlie's eyes lit up and stood up suddenly. The Sword of Galamont suddenly lit an incandescent flame, and he heard Ganratza screaming in frustration.

In the eyes of Charlie, the illusion in the endless wilderness of the underground world was shattered like the crystal under the hammer, and the frozen heart of the ancient oak tree appeared.

This is not the same as anything that Zha Ideal seems to have. He stood in a huge underground hall, which is a magical, frozen field, extending in all directions. A circle of light swayed gently in the air, emitting a diffuse light similar to pre-dawn. The earthy roof is curved overhead, and the huge roots of ancient oak trees hang down, intertwined with each other, forming a pillar that extends down to the ground. The other roots coiled on the sloping wall in the distance, forming an arch leading to other halls deep in the forest.

This strange field is like a miniature version of the earthly world. Charlie turned around and looked around in surprise, the snow under his feet crunching. The gentle hillside is connected to the surrounding walls, forming a natural valley. In this depression, there is a vast frozen lake, the lake surface glitters like a mirror, and a small island stands in the center of the lake.

Charlie found himself drawn to the lake. He put away the Sword of Galamonte and began to walk, wading through the white snow ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ His eyes were always locked on the island. The forest is sparse, the trees are bare, the grass is not growing, and a winding path leads to a low rocky headland that protrudes from the ice.

Snow was deep in his knees, but Charlie quickened his pace and was driven by some ethereal impulse. He hurried down the snow-covered **** through the icy woods. When he came to the lake, the land became flat and he set foot on the frozen lake without hesitation.

When he arrived on the island, the air was cold and fresh, and it was quiet. He climbed a winding path, through trees covered in snow and ice, and through a stone arch with carved ivy and spiral runes. He walked slowly to the low rocky headland, the highest point of the island.

There was a round table, and Charlie was attracted for it. He almost dared not breathe as he approached. A beautifully designed stone base was carved on the table, on which was a goddess.

The goddess of the elves seemed to be asleep, she was tall and slender, so cold and beautiful made Charlie heartbroken. She may be carved from marble, her face is so perfect, her skin is pale like porcelain. Her hair is dark blue, like the midnight sky, and it matches her skirt. The clothes hung from both sides of the altar where she was lying and spread on the table. Frozen leaves surrounded her slender waist and forehead, and the tendrils of the ivy wrapped her white and flawless jade arms. Frost shone on her cheeks, and ice crystals condensed on her eyelashes.ァ 新 ヤ ~ ⑧ ~ 1 ~ 中文 网 ωωω.χ ~ ⒏ ~ 1zщ.còм

She is an illusory perfect scene, a frozen god, locked in death-like hibernation.