eurekapd Chapter 228 The Hollowed-out Picture Frame
Chapter 228 The Hollowed-out Picture Frame
Chapter 228 The Hollowed-out Picture Frame
After muttering a few words, Cyril took out a scroll containing the world in the painting that he had prepared in advance, and laid it upside down on the dark coffin.
A few wisps of pale blue ripples spread through the air, and then the coffin that Amon had left there quietly disappeared.
Seeing this, Klein's lips twitched slightly above the gray fog. He didn't know whether to criticize his thriftiness or praise the magical effect of the painting.
Suddenly, Sirion spoke up: "Give me another angel's protection."
A few breaths later, the tall angel with twelve pairs of jet-black wings reappeared before him, the black wings behind him enveloping him in layers, providing protection.
After being sheltered by the paper angel that Klein had thrown down, Cyril crouched down and unveiled the "black curtain" covering the "ghost frame".
The dark, somber castle in the "Ghost Frame" lit up again, but this time there were no shadowy figures reflected in the windows, only Steve's voice shouting through the painting:
"Great master, I have conquered all the ghosts and spirits in this painting for you."
"Through my efforts to influence them, they are willing to wholeheartedly believe in and follow you."
"Unfortunately, this picture frame itself has no living consciousness; it cannot become the second servant to serve the great master after me."
Cyril:.:
This has completely exposed the true nature of "Ghost Frames".
Klein:
As a magical item, you've really gone to great lengths.
Klein suddenly thought of the mirror called Arrodes, feeling that they were similar in some ways.
...This is probably a common trait unique to living wonders.
While he was lost in thought, Cyril had already placed his hand on the image of the "ghost frame".
Layers of deep blue ripples spread from his hand, coalescing on the surface of the picture frame into an illusory "door" like a water curtain.
Immediately afterwards, Steve floated out from behind the "door".
One after another, transparent souls floated out from behind it:
They include males and females, the old and the young.
Some wore double-breasted long dresses that have become popular in recent times, work clothes commonly seen in Backlund, while others wore elaborate lace-trimmed long dresses from a century ago, and there were even classical formal suits in the style of the Quaternary period...
The more ancient the clothing worn by the spirits, the more transparent and blurry they became; some were reduced to mere thin human figures.
After floating out of the "ghost frames," they were not perfectly aligned, but they were arranged in a very uniform way in front of Steve, like the most loyal henchmen of a mob boss.
After seeing his newly recruited underlings emerge, Steve floated down to Cyril and humbly said:
"Great master, they have been corrupted by the deathly power in the painting for too long, forgetting too many memories and knowledge, so they are not very smart."
"However, with proper training, he can still regain his senses."
Cyril nodded: "Place them in your painting for now, and I'll paint a new one that suits them when I have time later."
Steve quickly replied, "No problem, Master."
"You are truly the most kind, the greatest, and the friendliest person I have ever met!"
Then, led by it, the group of transparent souls jumped one by one into the painting that belonged to it.
After dealing with Steve and his newly acquired henchmen, Cyril looked back at the "Ghost Frame," reached out and pulled a "black curtain" from the air, sealing it away once more.
Having done all this, he slightly raised his head, met the gaze of "The Fool" Klein, who was perched high above the endless gray mist in his field of vision, and then said:
"There are murals here depicting certain events of the Tertiary period. Although they have weathered quite a bit, they are still worth a look."
As he spoke, he gently rubbed his fingers together, creating a light as bright as day in the tomb chamber where only a few dim candle flames flickered.
As the surrounding light brightened, Klein, standing above the gray fog, was finally able to see the details of his surroundings clearly:
Most of the murals on the surrounding walls have faded and broken, with only a small section in the dome area remaining intact.
The image depicts a continuous mountain range, with a cross on the highest peak that is even larger than the mountain itself.
The cross, shrouded in layers of light, appeared exceptionally sacred.
But upon closer inspection, the radiance actually originates from a vaguely visible figure standing atop the mountain peak, seemingly supporting the heavens and the earth. Below the mountain range, six angels with twelve pairs of layered wings of light stand in different positions, two of them each holding an infant in their arms.
One had blond hair and blond eyes, wearing a cross necklace around her neck; the other had black hair and black eyes, holding something that looked like a clear crystal in her hand.
Following the six leading angels were more angels, but fewer in number.
They held musical instruments such as horns, harps, and flutes, and looked devout and joyful.
Following the angels are devout and respectful pilgrims or believers, most of whom are human, of different ages, appearances and genders, depicting the myriad aspects of life.
Further away, at the edge of the mural, in areas severely weathered and peeling, one can vaguely see a giant bound by chains, a dragon with its feet bound, forever unable to touch the ground, and elves fleeing in a boat. :: "This mural is quite well done; some church murals don't even have such exquisite details."
After muttering softly, Klein turned his gaze back to Sirion and asked curiously:
Who are the two babies being held and looked at by angels in the mural?
While concentrating on restoring the painting, Sirion replied without looking up:
"You should have guessed it by now, it's Amon and his brother."
"Unfortunately, too many parts of the mural are broken."
After casually remarking, Klein noticed the sheet of paper in front of Cyril covered with numerous abstract and distorted symbols, and asked in confusion:
"What are you doing?"
Cyril pointed to a stone door in the corner, its outline barely visible:
"I want to try and see if I can take this 'door' with me."
"Door?"
Klein then noticed a stone door on the wall at that location, its outline barely visible, engraved with patterns completely different from those in the tomb, which looked strangely eerie.
How come I didn't notice that just now?
After murmuring, he curiously cast an inquiring glance at the stone door.
In a moment of confusion, he heard malicious, indescribable words echoing in his ears, and he vaguely saw thick, liquid-like black mist, from which scale-like mountain peaks emerged.
There seemed to be no limit, no end, only endless falling and insatiable desires; it was a filthy world filled with desire and depravity.
As he witnessed this filthy and depraved scene, a sense of crisis suddenly welled up within him, as if an indescribable, terrifying presence was casting its gaze upon him.
Metaphor~
The surrounding gray fog suddenly surged violently, creating wave after wave of "waves" tens or even hundreds of meters high.
On the high-backed chair belonging to "The Fool," Klein's figure abruptly disappeared, leaving behind only a crudely cut paper figure stained with rust.
Klein appeared at the very bottom of the mottled long table, in the position belonging to "the world," and lightly snapped his fingers.
Snapped!
The rust-stained paper figure silently combusted, its ashes swallowed by the surging gray mist, completely extinguishing the flames.
As if it had lost its target, the surrounding gray fog gradually calmed down after a few breaths.
"What exactly is this thing? I only glanced at it, and it can bring pollution along my line of sight, even with the smog blocking my view."
"The last time something like this happened was when I proactively consulted the oracle about the 'Eternal Sun' and the 'True Creator.'"
"Even when listening to Mr. 'Door's' eating words before, this gray fog didn't react this strongly..."
"Is the being behind that stone door a true god on par with the 'Eternal Sun' and the 'True Creator'?"
After calming down, he told Sirion what had happened above the gray fog, reminding him to be careful and to leave the mausoleum immediately if the strange stone door changed.
In Amon's tomb, Cyril, who was pondering how to incorporate the gate to the abyss in front of him into the painting, was stunned after hearing Klein's explanation.
"That's an abyss! How could you just open your eyes and stare directly at it without any defenses?"
After a moment of silence, Klein gritted his teeth and said:
Why didn't you say so sooner!
Cyril spread his hands innocently: "Uh...you didn't ask before."
"Besides, the door was closed, so who would have thought you'd be so bold as to look behind it?"
"Don't you 'diviners' usually plan things out before making decisions, and consult the oracle when in doubt?"