"It's daytime, please open your eyes."
While Leyton was still grumbling inwardly, Amon, the clergyman, had already completed the process.
He calmly gazed at Amon, who was wearing a black classical robe at the very top, and said with extremely restrained emotion in his eyes:
"The person killed last night was you!"
His finger suddenly pointed at Amon, who was wearing the black classical robe at the very top.
At this moment, Leyton felt as if he saw poorly concealed surprise and joy in the eyes of the Amons around him.
It could only be said that it was indeed Amon, both surprising and yet making perfect sense.
Amon, wearing the black classical robe, made a very sorrowful expression and said, "Alright, you guys really know how to play."
As soon as he finished speaking, he suddenly raised his hand and grasped in mid-air. Amon, who was wearing a white clergyman's robe and floating in the center of the table, suddenly disappeared. The silver cross that this Amon had been holding also appeared in the hand of Amon, who was wearing the black classical robe.
Leyton glanced at it in surprise, then withdrew his gaze, leaned his head back against the chair, and closed his eyes as if resting.
Amon, wearing the black classical robe, played with the silver cross in his hand and said, "Next, I will guide you through the game."
After one round of speeches, all the Amons declared themselves good people, while denouncing the Amon who had hidden his identity and chosen to backstab the main body in the first round.
These Amons are so good at acting. Will the Cowardly Trio all become this schizophrenic in the later stages?
While Leyton was still grumbling inwardly, Amon, who was sitting at the very top, had already started pushing the process:
"It's nighttime, please close your eyes."
"It's daytime, please open your eyes."
"The one killed last night was you."
As expected, Leyton saw Amon pointing one hand at him.
These Amons have gone crazy with killing. I always feel like they're not here to play a game, but to vent the resentment they usually accumulate from being exploited by the main body. The only outsider has left, and now it's just them playing with themselves. I truly doubt their mental state.
Leyton's gaze swept over the Amons around the round table. His figure suddenly became transparent, shattering into specks of shimmering, brilliant starlight, scattering and escaping from this illusion.
As the specks of starlight dissipated, the Library constructed within this illusion instantly became transparent, vanishing into thin air.
At the very top, Amon, leisurely leaning back in the high-backed chair, pinched the monocle in his hand. The illusion that had just disappeared reappeared, unchanged from before, except for the wall lamps on the surrounding walls and pillars; the flickering flames were now frozen in place, like a static, three-dimensional painting.
Amon, wearing the black classical robe, glanced at the Amons around the round table who were already engrossed in the game. After casually designating the person who had just been eliminated to replace him, he unhurriedly put the monocle he was holding onto his right eye.
The next moment, his figure suddenly vanished from where he stood, and when he reappeared, he was already outside the Church in the center of the city.
Surging starlight gathered around here, and specks of starlight quickly reassembled within, revealing Leyton's figure.
Leyton looked at Amon, who had arrived here before him, without surprise. He would only be surprised if Amon didn't follow.
His gaze swept over Amon, and he casually said:
"You actually didn't cheat in the game, which is quite surprising."
Amon raised his hand to smooth a stray strand of hair on his forehead, while chuckling and saying, "Being surprising is also a form of deception."
Glancing at Amon, who had a faint smile on his lips, Leyton walked directly into the Church's prayer hall.
Amon made no move, but his figure remained firmly attached to Leyton's back, the distance between them seeming non-existent.
While firmly sticking to Leyton's back, he sighed:
"It's a pity, neither of us won. I originally planned to have you help me get some samples from that gray fog."
"Are you sure that's a small request? Besides, with something like the historical mist, without the authority of time or history, I can't even touch it."
Leyton complained a bit, feeling speechless.
While speaking, the two had already arrived at the prayer hall, where everything had returned to its original state.
The puppets wearing clergyman's robes were neatly prostrated on the ground, noisily and devoutly confessing to the inverted statue of the deity.
Amon suddenly stepped forward two paces, looking around as he spoke:
"The iron-smelting technology at that time was not perfect. To use so many metal products to create puppets and a city was already considered luxurious."
Leyton did not respond to him. His right thumb and middle finger rubbed lightly, producing specks of brilliant golden starlight, emitting a bright but not dazzling light that illuminated the entire hall.
In the brightly lit hall, Leyton this time very seriously examined the murals on the surrounding walls, attempting to decipher some useful information from them.
While memorizing the surrounding murals, he intermittently chatted with Amon:
"Can they recognize you, Your Excellency, 'Angel of Time'?"
"No, there aren't many records about me, and this isn't a city that believes in me, so they know even less about me."
Amon slowly shook his head in explanation. As he spoke, he had already approached the inverted statue, the brim of his pointed soft hat pulled low, obscuring the expression on his face.
Leyton continued to ask, following Amon's words:
"I'm a little curious, where is the city that believes in you? Is it also full of your avatars, like the Amon Family in the Fourth Epoch?"
"It wasn't, originally."
Amon replied faintly, gently shaking the monocle he held in his right hand.
Boom!
A deafening sound accompanied by a thick, silvery-white bolt exploded in the prayer hall.
After a blinding flash of silver-white, tiny electric snakes darted across the ground and walls. The originally inverted statue became scattered, charred rubble on the ground, with sticky, tar-like black goo clinging to it, and the silvery-white electric snakes moved extremely slowly across it.
The puppets prostrated on the ground around them suddenly paused, as if the shock was too great, causing them to suddenly crash.
This silence lasted less than a second. Scarlet light surged from the crevices of their puppet bodies, filled with a sense of madness and Degeneration.
"No!"
"Lord~ have You abandoned us…?"
".Why is this happening! Why…?"
"Ho~ ho…"
The puppets' voices gradually became chaotic and mad, until finally they couldn't even utter a complete sentence, only the hoarse sounds of their temporal parts rubbing together.
Leyton turned his head to look at Amon, who stood silently before the shattered statue. He was playing with the crystal monocle in his right hand, his eyebrows lowered, his expression dark and unclear. The surrounding puppets seemed completely unaware of his presence, directly bypassing him and surrounding Leyton's position.
Leyton stood still, deep blue light flowing in his eyes, and softly chanted a Dragonese word:
"Frost!"
Centered on him, shimmering, translucent streams of light fell from the sky, carrying a biting chill that spread outwards, rapidly sweeping through the entire prayer hall, covering it with a thick layer of ice.
The surrounding puppets, which had been approaching, instantly stopped, unable to advance further. They were covered in icicles, and the scarlet light, full of madness and Degeneration, emanating from the crevices of their bodies, became somewhat dimmer.
Crack! Crack!
A series of crisp sounds came from the thick ice layer. Cracks, like spiderwebs, spread from the inside out, with dark matter flowing within, as if it could surge out at any moment.
Amon, having put on the monocle he had been playing with at some unknown point, spoke beside Leyton:
"When the people here built this Church, they added some self-repairing functions to it. If you can't completely destroy them, or throw them very far away, these puppets can regenerate continuously."
"Self-repairing function?" Leyton murmured softly, suddenly recalling the deep red spiritual light he had seen when he previously examined this temple. He asked with some uncertainty:
"A characteristic of the Moon Pathway? A 'Life-Giver' who has mastered a certain authority in the domain of life, or a 'High Summoner'?"
Amon slowly shook his head and said:
"Neither. It's just a 'Shaman King', but the original owner of that characteristic was influenced by the lingering aura and divine power of the Earth Mother, becoming mad while also possessing incredible vitality. After being cleared by the people here, they preserved this trait to create Mystical Items."
"Don't you know too much?" Leyton looked at Amon beside him with some suspicion. The other party acted as if he had personally witnessed these things here.
Amon twitched the corner of his mouth, and said with a malicious and playful tone:
"I've always had avatars stationed here, and I even participated in the struggle between the conservative and evolution factions at that time."
Are you sure you only participated, and didn't fan the flames?
"Instead of grumbling about me in your heart, you should consider how to deal with these puppets in front of you. Your frost can no longer contain them."
As soon as Amon finished speaking, the cracking sounds around them became clearer and more frequent.
Rip!
The sound of ice shattering suddenly rang out. A mechanical arm made of metal stretched out from the thick ice layer, followed by one mechanical arm after another, heads, and thighs extending from ice layers in various places.
The shattered ice fell to the ground without a sound, immediately devoured by the dark blackness solidified from shadow and Darkness.
"With so many residual auras of deities here, they didn't influence each other?"
Leyton sighed, the flowing brilliance in his eyes outlining one mysterious symbol after another. His right hand simultaneously waved in front of him, creating specks of brilliant starlight, outlining strange and mysterious symbols.
The azure starlight gradually turned brilliant gold, dyeing the surrounding objects golden, spreading outwards in layers.
☰