The man stood on the grave. He raised his arms and spread his palms. A bloody scar suddenly appeared on it. The thick blood slowly fell. They pulled into a straight line of blood and poured into the earth, seeping into the soil.

With the soaking rain, we arrived at the dark place together.

"What would you do?"

The man looked at the soil under his feet curiously. He originally came to hunt Olivia, but he did not expect to encounter such a scene. If it was just an ordinary vendetta, it would not be enough to attract the man's attention, but York's predicament

, deeply attracted men.

In the contradictory predicament of his own beliefs on the one hand and legal ethics on the other, York failed to make a rational decision. He still believed in the goodwill of mankind... Unfortunately, in the face of his goodwill, Gami only responded with malice.

The man was a little curious about what York would do when faced with his own helping hand. As a believer in God, would he accept this grace or reject it.

If he accepts it, he will undoubtedly deviate from his beliefs. So what will he do next?

Will York still believe in his own faith and his own justice?

When he thought of this, an unstoppable smile appeared on the man's face.

Men like to watch the struggles of others. The pain and sadness from the depths of their souls are like honey to him.

Whenever he looked at these, he would always think of his childhood. From then on, he was a naughty child. He liked to grab ants, throw them into the water glass, and watch them struggle feebly until they turned into corpses.

A tiny corpse.

By now, he was beginning to look forward to York's decision and to take on this abnormal emotion. The man felt like a devil, enjoying the suffering of others.

"Dedicate your suffering, Father."

A twisted smile appeared on the man's face.

"This is God's test for you."

…

In the absolutely cold darkness, a strange scarlet color appeared in front of York's eyes. The first moment he looked at the color, York felt an unspeakable evil aura from it.

That is the power from darkness.

For a moment, York was a little confused. He had thought about arriving in heaven after his death, but he never thought that he would face such evil. He began to think that he was heading to a terrible hell, but York couldn't figure out what happened in his pious life.

Did something wrong.

He didn't understand it and couldn't accept it.

York was born in a poor family. His parents were taken away by a plague when he was very young. York was adopted by the priests in the town. Although he was without the company of his parents, under the care of the priests, he

York grew up healthily.

He was taught the kindness of the priests since he was a child. As an adult, York was determined to dedicate everything to his faith and bring kindness to others just like the priests.

York did indeed live an ascetic life as he swore to do. Except for the small gold cross on his chest, he never had any extra personal property.

With York's help, many people changed their destiny and lived with York's blessing... York originally thought that Gami would be one of the blessed.

"Is it because of him? Is it because of Gami?" York murmured.

Gami not only desecrated the body, but also committed murder. No, maybe he was not the first person he killed.

"I need his confession."

A heavy and bloodthirsty voice sounded that did not belong to York at all.

York was stunned for a moment. He felt that these words were not spoken by himself, but the voice was so similar to his own, as if another bloodthirsty and furious version of himself was cursing like this.

There is no heaven after death, only scarlet evil.

More and more painful contradictions were entangled in York's heart. His once firm faith was full of cracks, and suddenly the voice sounded again.

"Is there really a God in this world?"

He questioned York, listening to the voice, York couldn't help but become suspicious himself.

He had done good deeds all his life, but he died so ridiculously. What awaited him was not the kingdom of heaven, but this cold darkness.

"Why not give up this false belief? See what it has brought you?"

York looked forward and looked at the scarlet evil spirit. He knew that it was the evil power speaking to him.

"Go away, evil!"

York scolded, but as soon as he finished speaking, his firm eyes weakened.

God never gave York a response, but at this time of death, evil reached out to him.

Is this a test from God? Should I reject it and submit to my own death?

Countless thoughts flashed through York's mind. He was determined to postpone his death and stick to his piety, but it was also at this moment that the voice sounded again.

"I need his confession."

This time the voice was calm and without any emotion. York was stunned in place. This time he realized that these words came from his own mouth.

York's eyes became slightly nervous, his cheeks were slightly red, his mouth was half-opened, his facial muscles became more tense, fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his hands began to tremble slightly.

An uncontrollable anger rose in his throat, his eyebrows were raised, his lips became a thin line, he clenched his fists tightly, his legs began to tremble, and his whole body seemed to be boiling with hot anger.

"I...I need..."

York's facial expression became distorted, his eyes were bloodshot, a roar came from his throat, and his hands kept shaking, as if he wanted to smash everything around him.

An uncontrollable rage surged deep in his soul, almost burning up everything in York.

At this time, York's mind no longer thought about the so-called beliefs, laws, and moral dilemmas. What was in his mind was only the anger that had nowhere to vent, and Gami's ridicule of himself.

"Justice that binds its hands and feet."

Gami must be judged and he must confess to himself.

At this moment, York finally realized his mistake. He was indeed a kind and pious priest, but he was sometimes too kind. Such extremes actually encouraged the birth of sin.

This is his own fault, a sin born of his own piety, for which he must be held responsible.

Tears filled York's eyes. He confessed his mistakes to his God and vowed to make up for it. For this reason, he was willing to dedicate everything to the darkness.

York gnawed at the darkness like a hungry beast. He swallowed large chunks of soil. The rain mixed with the blood of the Night clan poured into his mouth. The forbidden blood streaked across his throat and penetrated into him.

's body.

The powerful immortal power penetrated York's body, and the injuries all over the body healed quickly. The broken muscle fibers were reconnected, the cracked bones healed and reset, and more powerful power was given to the body again.

York stretched out his hand towards the scarlet evil. His hand penetrated the darkness, penetrated the heavy soil, broke through the buried grave, and raised it high.

The illusion disappeared, like the soul returning to the body. York realized again that he was actually buried alive. Before he could think more, he noticed another cold hand grasping the hand that broke the grave.

.

Seize another dark fate.

The drizzle of rain gradually became violent. In the heavy rain, the man pulled York out of the grave. The cold rain came towards him and washed away the soil on his body, as if he was being baptized for a new life.

York gasped in pain, the blood of the Night Clan was actively modifying his body, as if he had a fever, his body became extremely hot, and when the rain hit his body, a thin white air would even rise.

The man lowered his body and looked at York with a smile, "Congratulations, Father, how does it feel to be reborn?"

York raised his head with difficulty, and the first thing that caught his eye was a pair of ruby-like eyes.

"You...who are you?"

"Me? It doesn't matter," the man said, "you just need to know that I gave you a second chance."

"Why?"

"Why?" The man thought carefully, "It's interesting, I just think it's interesting."

"interesting?"

This was a ridiculous answer, but York couldn't say anything to refute it. By now, everything was already ridiculous enough.

"I want to know, after all this, do you still believe in your god?" the man asked.

"Of course," York said firmly, "I am still loyal to her."

"But now you have sacrificed your soul to the devil." The man felt that York was becoming more and more interesting. "Even if there is a God, you will not be able to go to her heaven."

"It's not important," York laughed, his smile becoming twisted and crazy, "This is a great sacrifice."

"I did sacrifice my soul to the darkness to get a second chance, but my will and my piety still belong to her, and I will borrow the power of darkness to act on her behalf."

Hearing this answer, the man's expression gradually turned cold. The next moment, he grabbed York's throat and forcibly lifted him up.

"Don't you realize it yet? Father, there is no god in this world, and your faith is just an empty shell."

The man was not very satisfied with York's reaction. In his expectation, York should be more desperate, like a collapsed beast.

"I know."

York said this answer painfully, with tears welling up in his eyes, "She does not exist...but she does exist. She is my belief, my principle, and my virtue."

The man was stunned for a moment. He let go of York and let him fall into the mud. When the third thunder streaked through the rainy night, the man looked at the filthy York again. This time, the man knelt down on one knee and stretched out his hand.

Grabbed York's hand.

"Forgive me for the offense, Father, you do have a pious heart, even if its cornerstone comes from the power of evil."

Even if this piety has been distorted by extreme will.

This time the man looked at York with respect. He took out a thorn-like chain covered with red rust and spikes from the darkness under his clothes, and solemnly handed it to York's hand.

"You need it more than I do."

York looked at the chain in his hand. The luster was gone, and it was covered with red rust, which was scary. Each pitch of the chain had several spikes. They looked silvery and sharp, like rows of sharp blades. They moved slightly.

The spikes will scrape against each other, making a harsh sound.
To be continued...