Mystery: The Ancient God is Actually Me

Vol 2 Chapter 179: princess and marshal

The bright sun hit the fringed walls, precious paintings and delicate wallpapers were immersed in a hazy halo, soft carpets covered the whole hall, servants dressed in dark clothes came and went, only the only The door to the main house, deep inside the mansion, was closed, and the velvet curtains were drawn tightly.

Different from Ruen's subtle dress style, Intis prefers bright colors, and even some men use brightly colored feathers to decorate their formal clothes like the nobles in the southern continent.

Therefore, they are always held on to by the Loen nobles, and they are regarded as vulgar and exaggerated symbols.

The well-dressed butler stood in the middle of the hall, looking down at the housekeeper who was cleaning the house under him, and checked his watch every few minutes.

He is the fourth-generation steward here. He inherited his father's position at the age of 30, and was awarded to serve the owner of the manor-the Marshal of the Roselle Empire and the current advisor to the Intis Republic. Lançois Soult—the duty.

Unlike other generals who were promoted by the emperor during the Roselle Empire, this marshal was not suppressed by the government of the Republic. Instead, he supported the government of the Republic because of his public speeches, suppressing the dissent of a large number of military generals. Take the throne as the first decision maker.

Although the situation has changed recently, with the support of a "weather warlock" who has a political disagreement with Marshal Sirte, he was sent to the presbytery by Coveno Soren, who is also a "war bishop", and became a He was a consultant by name, but relying on his excellent strength and the contacts he had accumulated over the years, his henchmen were still closely united by the Marshal's side, and there was no tendency for them to fall apart.

This morning, after Marshal Sirte got up, he deliberately asked his "young" housekeeper to thoroughly clean the already desolate manor in preparation for the arrival of a distinguished guest.

Dear guest... The butler temporarily removed his sour eyes from those damned plates. Even though the bone china decorations could be used as mirrors, he was still worried that there might be a mistake, which would ruin the mood of the marshal.

His master was already a marshal, and he could not have imagined what kind of big man could be so valued by a saint!

The butler, who was in his fifties, took off the tortoise glasses on the bridge of his nose, took out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes, not paying any attention to a lady in a brown coat and a long skirt walking slowly past him.

The black boots stepped on the soft floor without making any unnecessary noise.

In the palace-like ornate manor, this uninvited guest passed through the servants who were hurriedly cleaning, until he walked to the closed main house and knocked on the closed door.

"Please come in."

The marshal's hoarse voice came from inside the house, and the heavy solid wood door slowly opened inward, revealing a darkness.

This place is more like a study than the main house. The bed is only shrunk in the corner of the room, and the rest of the urgent place is filled with bookcases. long table.

Marshal Soult sat on his usual favorite seat, and his wrinkled face pulled out a warm smile.

"Good morning, Her Royal Highness."

The door that closed automatically brought up the corner of Bernadette's trench coat. Her azure eyes scanned the surrounding decorations, and finally looked at the pure white chair opposite the desk with some dissatisfaction.

"I didn't expect to see you for decades, and you've already fallen in love with this dark style."

Thick curtains blocked the light, except for the bright yellow lamp on Soult's desk, facing the opposite direction from him.

The layout of this room looks almost the same as the interrogation room.

"I don't think my recent preferences are worth mentioning compared to yours, Your Highness Bernadette."

Sirte pointed to the position opposite him, and only withdrew his palm when he knew that Bernadette was reluctant to sit down.

"I'm curious, what is it that made you take the risk to enter Insti and visit me in person." With turbid eyes looking at Bernadette's slightly white lips, Soult leaned back on the chair Back, "You know, not everyone will think of you as a princess like me."

Princess... Bernadette chewed on the word, although she didn't hear the slightest hint of ridicule from the other party's mouth, she was still inexplicably aroused, and her brows were furrowed.

"Since that's the case, I think the entrustment I'm going to talk about next should go smoothly."

Soult didn't answer, just nodded and motioned her to continue.

"I need the blood of Sauron and Einhorn's family." Seeing Sirte's expression visibly sinking, Bernadette added, "Just the blood, not their lives. "

"I almost thought you had some unrealistic ideas," Sirte's expression returned to a sullen look, but there was still a faint gloom in his eyebrows, "The Sauron family is okay, after all, they are not a climate right now.. …”

"But the Einhorn family, they still firmly hold the throne of Fenepot, and they are very close allies with the Church of the Mother Earth. They are not the ones you should take the initiative to provoke."

"But if it's just blood..."

Sirte raised his chin slightly, and the end of the sentence was deliberately made longer.

"Your Highness, may I take the liberty to ask what you want to do?"

In mysticism, blood can often be used as a rather direct curse material, not to mention that the blood designated by Bernadette is not a specific person, but generally refers to the bloodline shared by a family.

Looking at Soult's slightly squinted eyes, Bernadette remembered the two "ghosts" she saw in the back tomb after she reached a certain relationship with the Medici family ancestor, the Red Angel.

At that time, the ancestors of Sauron and Einhorn also looked at the two conspiratorial collaborators in this way. Of course, their mouths were also mixed with provocations that, according to Medici standards, were not too high on the table.

The corners of Bernadette's mouth raised slightly, her legs crossed.

"To help a friend."

"friend?"

Surte subconsciously supported the table with both hands, and even though it has been eroded by years, he still can see that the young and romantic face is serious and old-fashioned.

Seeing that Bernadette chose to remain silent, the marshal immediately gave up the questioning, and the conversation changed.

"Each of us has some secrets, and I'm happy to serve you, but I think you still need to show more sincerity. After all, the Sauron family is fine. It is still difficult to say.”

"If I say, can I give you the recipe for 'Weather Warlock'?"

"Do you think I don't have it?" A sarcastic smile appeared in Surte's eyes. "His Majesty gave me the complete formula of the Weather Warlock as soon as he overthrew the Sauron family."

Bernadette, who was completely unaware of the matter, frowned slightly and quickly stretched, and then took out a second plan.

"Then if it's the formula of the 'Conqueror', or the whereabouts of an angelic trait?"

She interrupted Sirte's unanswered question.

"You should know the cards of blasphemy that my father left behind, and I have no reason to lie to you about the authenticity of the formula."

Looking at the expressionless Bernadette, Soult quickly took advantage of the gains and losses, and tapped his fingers lightly on the table.

"Then I don't remember the characteristics of 'Weather Warlock'. I don't remember His Majesty ever obtaining similar items. Of course, if my status in His Majesty's heart is not enough, I am not qualified to know, please forgive me."

Even if he didn't do it deliberately, he brought a hint of sarcasm into his words, secretly poking at the hole in Bernadette's heart.

In a sense, compared to Sirte, who participated in part of the mausoleum construction plan, she was an "outsider" who knew nothing, an insignificant person excluded by Roselle from the plan to become a god.

"I can tell you an address, and you can find it yourself. Under the law of aggregation of Beyonder characteristics, you should be able to feel the attraction of that characteristic to you by yourself."

Bernadette lowered his head, and without hesitation, pulled a piece of paper on Sirte's desk full of documents, and wrote down the name of the island and the corresponding coordinates.

"Bancy?"

As a former general from the Intis Navy, Soult chewed on the name and quickly found a matching image in his brain.

If he remembered correctly, this should be an ordinary island in the Sunya Sea. It was originally ruled by indigenous people, but after steamships became more popular, it became an overseas territory of Loen.

"They used to believe in the so-called 'weather god'." Bernadette added deliberately.

Finally, the weight on the scale was larger than the weight of the scale, and the smile reappeared on Soult's face.

"I'll go see the island myself."

He waved his left hand lightly in the air, and the bright and clean flame instantly ignited all the candlesticks in the main house, dispelling the previous darkness.

"Her Royal Highness, I am happy to serve you."

The old marshal finally got up and bowed deeply to Bernadette, who was sitting on the pure white seat.

......

After complicated and false social rhetoric, UU read www. uukanshu.com Bernadette finally left the manor that made her feel uncomfortable.

The illusory horse pulls the pumpkin cart that seems to have walked out of a fairy tale, and the colorful light bridge continues to extend under the wheels, holding this carriage to walk in the spiritual world.

She looked out the window at all kinds of strange creatures, but tried to avoid looking directly at those creatures.

For example, the terrifying spiritual body that was dragging a huge bone sickle, wearing a robe, and a dark under the hood just now.

In the spirit world, looking at each other is a very obvious act of provocation.

"Now there is only the blood of your descendants left." Bernadette retracted her gaze and looked at the vanity mirror with a wave of water in her palm.

"That's not a problem, the blood of Sauron and Einhorn is more important."

The scarlet font slowly emerged in the water waves, obviously half a beat slower.

"Actually, I'm more curious about where your descendants are hiding. After all, if it wasn't for the Sauron family who still kept some records, I couldn't find any records about the Medici family."

The dissolving scarlet font suddenly solidified, and the overflowing color continued to spread, but it did not change after a long time.

Finally, the scarlet pool re-condensed, and even the "water surface" behind it became more gloomy.

"Bancy."

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