Orc Tyrant

Chapter 1112: Dead epidemic (part 1)

The gloomy underground square was crowded with people who came to listen to the saint's acolyte's speech.

Hadith—this is what people call him new, Carlin thought with interest.

In these turbulent times, he is still regarded as a ruler and role model by everyone, which makes him feel very pleased and somewhat proud.

He understands, but after all... when the situation changes beyond the control range, one will always try to keep something.

The news that he was about to give a speech spread swiftly among the followers of Tyre, and he looked nervously toward the edge of the square, looking for any signs of danger.

Perhaps this news had unfortunately spread to people other than the believers, so there were armed guards guarding any route leading here, but he knew that if the Ouk soldiers appeared in large numbers, all the people here could not leave alive.

They are taking great risks, but Carlin made it very clear that he must communicate with believers, spread the word of the eternal Father, and reveal the enlightenment she foresees that is coming.

Fortunately, Oak has already waged a full-scale war with the heretics. Their focus is not in the city, which greatly reduces the risk factor and is the main reason why he decided to hold a rally again.

Thousands of people looked at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and turned to look at Quasimodo.

He was standing behind a pulpit, stepping on a temporary high platform piled up with cargo boxes, and a portable communicator was connected, capable of transmitting his words to the farthest corner of the square.

Although he knows that he is well-tested and can be heard by everyone without any mechanical assistance, the real meaning of the communicator is to spread his speech to those who cannot participate in the rally. The technicians have already The line is connected to the broadcast network of the secret channel.

Carlin's words will echo throughout Tyre.

He smiled and faced the crowd, taking a sip of water from the cup beside his hand.

The expectant faces in this crowd of people stared at him, eagerly wanting to listen to his wise words.

What will he tell them?

Carlin looked down at the notes he had written during the days when he fled at the bottom of the city. He looked back at Quasimodo again, his ugly smile made him relax.

He turned his head and stared at his notes, the words appearing vulgar and blunt.

So Carlin chose to gather the paper into a ball and threw it at his feet, feeling the eloquent self surging happily in his veins again.

"My friends, my relatives."

He started his speech.

"We are living in a special age, and what is happening will surely shock you as much as I am! You come here to listen to the words of the saint, but she invited me to talk to you and let me tell What you and her foresee tells you how every faithful man and woman should respond."

His voice contained just the right heaviness, intertwined with a sorrowful tone, telling everyone that he was about to apologize to those terrible words that represented bad luck.

"The Eternal Garden will open elsewhere."

After he finished speaking these words, he stopped and waited for the inevitable bursts of denial and anger to fill the room.

In the next few seconds, shouting voices came and went like waves, and Carlin let these voices sweep him in, clearly knowing the precise moment he should speak.

"I know I know,"

He raised his hands flat and pressed down slightly.

"You think that such a thing is absolutely impossible, and I would think so a short time ago, but it is true... The saint showed me her vision, and I was cold as I witnessed it all. Heart-to-heart: the war ploughed the land and left the dead everywhere, the cruel wind was wrapped in ashes of bones, and the people who looked up to the sky only expected miracles. What they dreamed of was the pulse of life without pain.

The crowd gradually calmed down, attracted by his words.

"I tasted the smell in the air. It was a heavy **** breath. My friends, the stench of blood haunted the corpses of those people, the kind that we gradually learned to call them enemies, and this was for the sake of What? Perhaps only the bright eyes of outsiders can tell what we have blindly ignored."

The crowd calmed down, but he could see that many people still thought he was crazy.

Most here are people of faith, but there are very few exceptions.

"The destruction of the pagan kingdom is inevitable, but everything that happens here prevents the eternal garden from coming."

Although almost everyone can accept the fact that the eternal father is a sacred existence, not everyone can believe that the merciful **** will really deliver miracles to save them.

"Look at what is happening now, my friends, the tense atmosphere of the siege of the city, the trenches soaked in mud and misery, the sky torn apart by the rain of bullets, those who lead us are even worse! We! How can you expect those who are willing to become running dogs to react?"

Carlin could feel the gradual changes in the mood of the crowd, knowing that he had captured their attention, and now he needed to stir up their feelings.

"Look at what those left after the reign of Ouke! There are countless monuments dedicated to killing! Look at the once great and glorious palaces. The bright halls are displayed with **** war weapons! Ouke asks us to praise their cruelty They are waiting for the moment to return to the battlefield! In our eyes, those weapons are strange, but we have forgotten the fact that those savage tools have taken away each and every fresh life! The dead cannot talk to us because they cannot enter The Eternal Father’s garden cannot beg for salvation, but only allows the memory of them to fade away until they are completely forgotten... No matter the rows of tombs, the towering skull piles, or the endless flames, we can’t remember them. The dead, because we dare not look back and witness what they did, we are afraid to find the same thing in ourselves."

Carlin felt a wonderful energy permeate his whole body when he was speaking, and words came from his mouth like an unstoppable torrent, and every word seemed to blur out spontaneously, as if they came from other places. , Comes from something far beyond his ability, a place that humble ordinary people can never reach.

"For countless centuries, we have struggled in the quagmire of blind civilization, but there are too many things we have not learned. The dead should be our teachers, because only they are the true witnesses! Only they understand eternity , But we have never looked at them directly, this endless failure, the sick quagmire that generations of people have been stuck in!"

Thunderous applause erupted from the crowd in front of Carlin and quickly spread to the entire square. He didn't know if the same scene was also performed in other places in Tyre where he could hear his speech.

Tears filled his eye sockets during his speech, his hands clung to the pulpit tightly, and his voice trembled with strong emotions.

"Let the dead hold our hands and teach us the most precious truth! Death is not the end!"

While Carlin was impassioned, in a secret room, Julia twisted a piece of cloth in her hand and applied it to her sister Esmeralda's forehead.

The unconscious girl groaned and trembled, her arms waving wildly like a seizure.

At the moment she looked pale and thin like a corpse.

"Don't be afraid, sister is here."

Julia leaned over and whispered, although she wasn't sure if her comatose sister could hear her, and she didn't know what torture Esmeralda was going through, and it made her feel very powerless.

From the very beginning, she was not interested in the so-called religion. At that time, for some reason she didn't understand very well, she stayed with her father and followed them frequently in Tyre.

There are enough hiding places in this city.

News about their whereabouts spread quickly. No matter where they go, there will be workers with oil on their bodies or uniformed guards leading them to a safe place, providing them with food and water, and taking the opportunity to take a look at the saints. .

Now they are hiding in a businessman's house, which is the most comfortable place in this month.

But Esmeralda was unconscious again.

The doctor in charge of her was asleep on a thin blanket next to him. The old man had never looked so exhausted as he is now.

His skinny arms were almost skinny, and his cheeks with age spots were sunken down.

The old man was not only a doctor, but also a member of the Declining Brotherhood, and Julia even suspected that he was a wizard.

But he was also helpless with Esmeralda's coma.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a young man hurriedly walked to the old man lying on a pile of blankets and clothing. This man was tall and strong. The gray guard uniform was neat and tidy, showing that he had at least one officer status.

But he stopped a short distance from his Esmeralda, and then knelt down docilely.

"Miss Julia."

He said respectfully, not even raising his eyes.

"Do you or the Holy One have any needs?"

"Water, clean water, and some paper."

The man's eyes lit up.

"The saint is writing?"

Julia hoped that she hadn't mentioned this. In fact, the paper needs were hers, and she wanted to write a letter to someone.

"She is organizing her thoughts and preparing for a speech."

Julia can only deceively say:

"If you can find some medical supplies, we can use them too. She is a little dehydrated."

"The Eternal Father will protect her."

The man said worriedly.

"I believe he will, but we also have to assist him as much as possible."

Julia tried not to appear so condescending.

She knew very well that Esmeralda, who was in a coma, had an unimaginable influence on believers, and she was a miracle in her own right.

Her existence seems to have focused so many people's doubts and wishes on one point, transforming them into a firm belief in a distant **** like steel.

"We will try our best. We have people in stores and hospitals."

He reached out his hand, gently touched Esmeralda's blanket, whispered a prayer to the Father of Eternity, and then stood up contentedly.

After the man left, Julia also whispered her seemingly perfunctory prayer.

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