"The four sides of God? It's really boring." Negri stood up from the throne.

"But since they stretched out their hands to me, I should give it back anyway." Negri's figure slowly faded: "I'll leave this to you, Grandma Sier."

"Yes, Lord Negri, hehehe!"

...

Intercami, Scoro.

The young Miss Moris was standing by the window of the castle loft, looking at the grass below, the knights who were practicing, supporting their faces with one hand, boring reverie.

Originally, she could hold salons with other noble ladies in the bustling city and talk about life with poets and musicians, but war destroyed everything.

Viscount Scoro's family returned to their territory, and Morsier could only follow him, away from the prosperity of the city, and returned to the Scoro's territory, which she considered to be in the countryside.

There are only knights who practice and prepare for battle every day, and farmers and women who are busy with farm work every day. There is no pastime, she just feels like she is going crazy.

"Huh?" Mourlis suddenly saw something happening in the distance. A teenager seemed to be peeking at the knight training outside the castle. After being discovered, several knights grabbed the teenager, tied his hands with ropes, dropped it on a tree on one side, and started whipping with a horse whip.

"Amy, that boy is so pitiful. You want him to come over and take it to me." Mourlis said with his lips raised.

"Miss, the master said..." Amy, the maid next to him, said carefully.

"Go and listen to me." Mourlis interrupted Amy's words and ordered with a arrogant order: "Or I would also reward you with a few whips."

After a while, the beaten boy was taken to the attic of Morslis.

Looking at the pitiful look of the boy wearing several red marks on his body and wearing inconsistent robes, Moris closed the window, and ordered Amy to close the door, and said to the boy: "Come here, let me see your wound."

The boy felt uneasy and dared not step forward. Morsi was not angry either. He approached the boy who was in a defensive state carefully. He gently scratched the boy's hair with his palm, and then gently stroked the whipped red marks on the boy's face.

The force of the fingers is not heavy. This force instead makes the wound feel numb and itchy, making the boy twist his body awkwardly.

"Does it hurt?" Moris asked softly. After spraying the perfume, she said softly as if she was spitting out the fragrance, which made the boy swallow a little.

"Hehe." The noble girl chuckled a few times, gently stroked the boy's scars with her hands. Her lips opened slightly, approaching the boy bit by bit. Her delicate face was right in front of the boy, and the temperature and fragrance further stimulated the boy's nerves.

But the next moment, Moris pinched the boy's wound with his sharp nails without hesitation. Hearing the boy's painful scream, Moris covered his mouth and laughed: "How is it? Aren't you? Did you think I was going to kiss you just now? You felt the pain?"

Morsi excitedly picked up the whip, whipped the boy, and said happy words: "It's true, a mere bastard, it's your greatest honor to bring me happiness."

In the city, Moris and a few noble ladies had the greatest pleasure to hold salons, bringing some homeless men, beggars, and civilian children to the salons and enjoying themselves by abusing these nasty species.

Looking at the boy who had no resistance under her whip, Morsier became more and more excited, constantly whipping, forcing the boy to the corner, and the etiquette he usually maintained at all times also disappeared at this moment.

Or in other words, it is because we have to communicate with all kinds of upper-class people in our daily lives and we must always maintain the etiquette of aristocratic people, as if we must wear a mask, keeping them in a state of depression.

And once they are liberated from that state of depression, they will become extremely crazy, as if they have become a different person. People cannot associate the crazy woman who is now excited to keep whipping the boy in the corner with the weak and sweet Miss Moris at the dance.

Morsi put down his whip and grabbed the boy's neck hard. Seeing that the boy was almost breathless, he let go of his hand and raised his foot and kicked him directly on the boy's body, constantly grinding.

Just as Miss Morsier was constantly releasing her madness, in her attic, two Hales members wearing black masks and white tears at the corners of their eyes were talking softly.

"Can you confirm the target?" One of the Hales members said softly: "Although Intkami is in civil strife and the God-Entertainment Cult is a little tired of dealing with it, the mad dogs don't care about the destruction of the country. There is no problem with the correct goal. If it is incorrect, it will attract those mad dogs..."

"Don't worry, I have confirmed several times that the goal has the potential to become a fallacy. Under the power of the ritual, the other party will definitely become an evil spirit and contribute to the arrival of the Black Abyss." Another Hales member said confirmingly.

"Since that's the case, let the entire Koslo tribe become a sacrifice."

One of Hales walked through the door and outside the door, Amy, the maid who was screaming at the boy, was trembling. She was very scared. He was worried that one day such a fate would come to her.

But the blade suddenly rushed out of her heart made her no longer worry. Hales drew out the blade and then dealt with the body of the maid Amy without hesitation. The internal organs were placed in different areas along the blood. A gray stone with runes on it was placed in the maid's empty belly.

In this way, the girl's anger and soul cannot be temporarily preserved by stones, becoming a part of the ritual, promoting the birth of evil spirits with the greatest strength, and even allowing evil spirits to have good strength as soon as they are born.

Hales did not stop. After dealing with the body, he continued to walk forward and killed everyone he saw, regardless of gender, age, age, and status. Under the blade of Hales's ceremony, there was no difference between everyone.

Morsi was still abused the boy. I didn't know that everyone else except her in the castle was almost dead. The other Hales didn't move any action, just watched Morsi's abuse becoming more and more overbearing.

At some point, a layer of dark mist had slowly risen. A strange silence enveloped the entire castle, but Moris, who was in an excited state, did not notice it.

The boy in the corner was already dying and could die at any time. The Hales member who stood still finally took out the blade of the ceremony and pierced into Mourlis' head without hesitation.

The boy who was originally abused opened his emotionsless eyes, and his appearance gradually faded and turned into a member of Hales with a black mask on his face. The same ritual blade penetrated into the heart of Morslis.
Chapter completed!