"Turing." The orange troll bent down and gently stroked Turing's right shoulder. His figure slid from the left to the right unexpectedly, and he leaned close to Turing's ear, speaking softly.
"You can only stay here, you must not cross." The voice was low and hoarse, but it inexplicably gave Turing a sense of extreme familiarity.
Extreme familiarity, yet also extreme fear. The fear was like bubbles rising from the abyss—it came from a distant place, but grew larger and larger as they gathered.
"Mother... Is it my mother?" Turing trembled as he asked the troll.
A magic way beyond Turing's comprehension had appeared, but that didn't prevent him from suspecting that it could be the work of his mother.
For Oedipus, nothing was impossible.
The troll didn't say anything more. He seemed to tense up all his muscles, like a receding tide, restraining his momentum while gathering strength.
Merka, not far away, frowned in confusion at everything that had just happened.
———————————————————————————
But some things are just unavoidable.
Humans are naturally inclined to seek revenge, not prevent it.
No matter how much we regret, how much we repent,
we have no way of tracing what happened in the past.
We have no way of defying our predetermined fate.
All we can do is seek revenge.
Only seek revenge.
———————————————————————————
"MI6 Junior Shield Spell..." Instead of being overwhelmed with joy, Hamlet, who was immersed in a state of ecstasy, sensed the troll advancing towards him faster than Elizabeth, and began his incantation.
However, Elizabeth didn't possess the refined technique of compressing the linguistic spirits, nor the powerful memory to support her rapid incantation.
A fragmented, delicate shield rose silently.
This unfinished product was like Elizabeth's life—grand and fragile, pure and gentle.
Under the scythe-like claws of the troll, it shattered in less than a millisecond.
Turing watched in disbelief at everything before her. She knew that now was not the time to stand there dumbfounded, but the troll's mutterings were like nails in a scaffold, firmly holding her in place.
—The troll charged straight along the path that Merka was on, as if he hadn't noticed Elizabeth and Hamlet at all. Like crashing into tofu, chunks of flesh sprayed out with splatters of blood.
Real death had no sound, no picture. The pitiful fate wouldn't give you the slightest chance to say goodbye, silence was the main theme of destiny.
Even now, Turing still couldn't believe that those flying pieces of flesh were once Elizabeth.
With a chaotic mind and a restless mood, like a jar of rotten porridge, chaos repeated itself under the weighty hammer of reality.
"Elizabeth..." Turing tried to shout, but found that her voice had become hoarse.
"Good shepherd!" Facing the terrifying troll, Merka remained unusually calm. She reached for her earring without any panic.
A mighty flame erupted like a massive wall, continuously igniting the troll. Although in the end it seemed unable to even halt his steps, it at least blocked his field of vision.
The orange troll missed its target.
"The flock of sheep scattered, running towards the horizon..." Thick smoke emitted from the disheveled body of Merka, even though the smoke was not as clear even with the use of magical vision.
The enraged troll opened its giant mouth, primitive and seemingly unaffected by any magical protection, and spewed out a terrifying flame.
In an instant, houses collapsed, the ground turned to ash, and a scene of devastation and death unfolded before Turing's eyes once again.
The intense flames seemed to carry the momentum of burning everything, even dispersing a significant amount of smoke around Merka.
Merka's range of movement within the smoke became increasingly restricted, forcing him to play a game of chase with the orange troll that followed closely behind.
And so, Merka soared and darted like a grey meteor under the troll's reign. The troll, on the other hand, stayed close behind a large cloud of smoke, continuously expelling flames to dissipate the trail left by Merka.
Their chase destroyed almost all the stones that could be shattered and the wood that could be burnt in their vicinity.
"Tsk..." Relying on his familiarity with the monastery and the cover provided by the buildings, Merka kept escaping death. But soon, he realized that he had been forced to the dormitory area where the monks lived.
If he kept moving forward, without a doubt, the flames spewed by the troll would cause countless casualties.
"I surrender, okay? Don't come any closer." Merka stopped in a large cleared space in front of the dormitory, dispelling his magic, and calmly spoke to the troll.
The troll seemed somewhat puzzled, stopping not far in front of Merka and looking around as if searching for any traps.
However, during this momentary pause, the troll was firmly pinned to the ground by a steel needle descending from above.
"A silver needle from CANNA." Provence, expressionless, inserted the steel needle into the troll's body. The sound of the needle piercing the flesh accompanied the flow of black blood, making Provence seem like an emotionless god of death.
Suddenly, from behind Merka, three powerful angels appeared out of thin air, varying in size from large to small. They stood like a row of war machines, waiting for their master's command.
The majestic Power Angel, like a towering building, lifted Maria as she sat behind him from the shadows to stand beside Merka, shielding him.
"I knew Oedipus wouldn't let Turing go without a fight..."
"If I dared to harm Turing, this thing would have ripped me apart already," Maria said quietly.
"Maria, how did you end up here..."
"Feeling the terrifying surge of power from your girlfriend, how could I sit at home peacefully?" Maria chuckled lightly, seemingly ignoring the urgent situation in front of her.
"Merka! Prepare to use the Descent of the Holy Son." Maria shouted loudly at Merka, seeing the troll pinned to the ground with such intense anger that it seemed like it would burst.
"Okay!" A distant white flame spread across Merka's cheeks.
"It's time to test the results..."
Seeing Turing rushing from a distance in a flustered manner, Maria muttered to herself with a voice only she could hear.
