Mythology Rebooted
Chapter 852 - 323 Little Devil, Where Are You From_3

Chapter 852: Chapter 323 Little Devil, Where Are You From_3

Dragon-slaying Knight Saint George possessed Heavenly Blood, or rather, he was a primal Angel who had descended to the Mortal World.

Once, angels and devils could enter the God-chosen Continent.

Wayne had obtained a Holy Shroud/Shroud, originally kept in Saint Dominic Cathedral, but Saint Dominic was neither human nor angel—his veins carried Hell Blood, he was a descendant of a devil, bathed in Holy Light to gain entry into Heaven.

Devils having bloodline descendants in the Mortal World and the Windsor Royal Family possessing Heavenly Blood, these are the strong proofs that devils and angels once freely traveled to the Mortal World.

Moreover, the Grey Space was indeed a Divine Nation of a fallen Giant Dragon, and for Giant Dragons, Divine Nation specifically refers to the Dragon Kingdom.

Contrary to Wayne’s speculation, the Dragon Kingdom captured by Windsor had no involvement with the Knight Order of the Sun Goddess; it was shattered by Saint George’s dragon-slaying blade, then placed beside his own bloodline descendants.

The Windsor ancestors truly lived broadly, but with each generation more lackluster than the last, they fared worse and worse.

In the generation of Sophia, to ensure the continuation of the Royal Family’s bloodline and to securely hold onto Windsor’s realm, she unavoidably had to wear stockings and work overtime deep into the night.

Despite this, her ex-boyfriend still treated her indifferently.

The Grey Space left by Saint George was not simple; it recorded some data, stored at Heavenly Father’s Court, and this information was hidden within a Bible, which after several transfers, was collected and sealed by the Papal State.

The Windsor Royal Family was not aware of the secrets within.

As time came to the present, Archibald followed the secrets to the doorstep; he was not sure how much Wayne had discovered and had lost hope in the Divine Blood, but he believed that the treasures recorded in the Bible—Wayne likely did not possess them.

"The natural treasures are inhabited by those with virtue!"

This is not the original saying of Archibald. Translated, it roughly means the same.

He alone came to the end of the Grey Space, looking at the devastated, over-exploited Grey Space, he could not help but lament his colleague’s methods.

Such ruthless exploitation, if this uncontrolled plunder keeps up, the Grey Space would completely disappear.

Luckily he arrived early, otherwise, the treasure would also vanish.

Archibald waved his hand, pulling out a hand-transcribed Parchment Scripture from his Personal Space; the text on it was too ancient, unreadable by modern people, only scholars specializing in ancient languages could understand the information recorded on it.

Archibald softly recited the Bible, wandering around the end of the Grey Space for a good while until he finally found the location, and a hazy Crucifix apparition emerged in the space before him due to the spell.

"It’s still here."

Archibald felt immense relief, fingers pressed against the Crucifix apparition, slowly rotating it a few times, then pushed it forward.

In an instant, the originally empty Grey Space began to ripple, visible waves spreading all around, gradually unfolding a new world.

The sky was covered with blazing flames, the earth had continuous mountain ranges, fog permeated everywhere, and the air was moist and mild.

The mountain ranges had no green forests, but there was real soil and grass.

Among the swirling fog, it seemed like countless white ghosts danced in the air, now gathering, now dispersing, subject to the scorching from the high flames, the fog slowly steamed upwards, then condensed into raindrops falling.

The fog could not extinguish the flames, the flames could not dry the vapor; a concept of a magical cycle filled with Magic achieved balance in this world.

"The life of a Giant Dragon!"

Archibald tossed the Parchment Scripture into the air, the Bible emitting golden beams, pointing out a path forward.

He flicked his finger, the Bible cutting through the fog, heading straight towards the distance.

Archibald immediately followed, plunging into the misty, mysterious depths, the ground beneath his feet moist and soft, the rustling sound accompanying friction conveyed astonishing vitality.

A world derived from the flesh and blood of a Giant Dragon, carrying information about Giant Dragons, under the forging of the Laws of Fire, energy transformed into matter, creating this unique magical space.

Archibald moved swiftly, soon arriving in front of a white mountain range.

Dragon Bone Mountain!

Under the heavy fog, a majestic Dragon Bone Mountain stood quietly, its head invisible, each gigantic bone laden with the vicissitudes of eras.

Fog navigated between the dragon bones, at times gathering into milky white satin, at times forming into slender threads, wrapping around the dragon skeleton’s framework, subtly maintaining rhythmic movements as if breathing.

Occasionally, a cold wind swept across the ground, with the fog rolling along; Dragon Bone Mountain seemingly awoke for a moment, emitting a low and awe-inspiring dragon chant.

The ancient sound echoed in the fog, evoking infinite fear and reverence for a mighty life.

Alas, dragon wings drooping, and the dragon bowing its head, glory was no longer present; this sound, more so, added a touch of melancholy to the mystery.

Archibald saw the glory in the huge dragon bones, this was an adult Giant Dragon, extremely powerful, but also felt the desolation in the moss attached to the skeletons, and the decay scent permeating the air.

Though the Giant Dragon was strong, what remained was merely a skeleton.

Archibald’s body hovered, spreading his sensory perception, detecting a flash of metallic glint atop the dragon’s head.

The Oath Sword of Dragon Slayer Saint George!

A divine weapon of Heaven, coupled with the reconstructible life of a Giant Dragon, made this trip worthwhile.

Archibald smiled slightly, without lingering on any sentiment, well aware the longer the night, the more dreams that arise; this was Wayne’s territory after all, and he did not want a face-off with Wayne—quickly retrieving the treasure was the sensible course.