Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

The terrifying sound of chains across the ground echoed throughout the street.

The chain was thrown by a bone hand, and the iron hook at the front turned a corner in the air as if it had self-awareness, pierced the wooden door with precision, and hooked a young child with clothes out.

His mother rushed out the door in a panic, trying to recapture her child from the rusty iron hook, but saw a tall undead walking out of the black mist.

The icy mist gathers meekly under its feet, moving as it moves, stopping as it stops. It is wearing a black ripped robe, which has been eroded and worn out by the years.

A gleaming green light emanated from the hole, but it could still be seen how the makers of this dress had taken care of it. Just that face.

that face.

The moment the mother saw that face, she wanted to scream—a face she knew all too well, every detail, eyes, nose. It was the face of her husband who died last year on Soul Eater Night.

The undead hugged her child, pacing softly, and humming a song, until the child could no longer close his eyes and hold back the screaming as his mother had taught him.

He opened his mouth and let out a scream, and then the undead stretched out one of his fingers, with clear joints and green fire, and pressed it against the child's soft lips.

The undead said, "Shh."

The child immediately stopped screaming, and his mother, trembling all over, fell at the feet of the undead, cries and grabbed the leg of its trousers, and was about to collapse, she said: "Please...please... "

The undead put a smile on her husband's face, and it whispered, "Oh dear. Don't worry. I won't hurt him. How could I have the heart to hurt my own child?"

"Reincarnation Paradise"

Saying that, it poked the child's face with baby fat with its bony fingers.

"He's good-looking...well, thank you for your hard work." There's a soul-stirring magic in his words.

The mother stopped crying, the expression on her face became abrupt, and the words she said were close to babbling: "You...is it really you, Lai?"

The undead grinned, laughing wildly without a sound.

Then, it tore off the face and threw the child on the ground, letting him cry.

It grabbed its mother and pulled her up to its own height, so that she could see the terrifying skeleton of itself.

See every detail on it. It could even feel the warm air from the woman's nose. Its laughter echoed in the dark fog-filled streets, accompanied by the mother's screams and the children's cries.

It put her down and took out a lantern from the dark fog behind it, and the lantern was glowing with a pale green light.

The undead lifted it up, and those rays of light flew wildly. The undead opened the small door of the lantern, and the mother heard a shattering scream, like broken glass.

She didn't respond at first, because she had already been stimulated too much. The undead was not satisfied with this, it shook the lantern, the scream gradually weakened, and said the mother's name: "Mina..."

Immediately she looked up, and a green light flew out of her body, and the undead caught her and locked her in the lantern. It glanced down at the child, with a sinister smile on the corner of its mouth: "A perfect torture, of course, requires dessert."

So another green light also flew into its lantern.

The undead turned around happily, intending to leave. It disobeyed the order of the Lord of the Black Mist and came here to have some fun. These two desserts are enough, it can't be exposed too early. The undead intend to return to the black fog.

Tonight is far from over, it has more to come. Their screams are like mead, and the undead never tire of hearing them.

But like an alcoholic, more wine is always better. It doesn't love one, it always wants more. This has long been the meaning of its existence.

But at this moment, it stopped.

A man in a black robe walked slowly from the other side of the street, with a piece of green debris in his hand, flying on his slender five fingers like a butterfly wearing a flower.

"Hello," he said with a smile.

However, in a single encounter, the undead, who was still invincible before, let out a gut-wrenching scream, and all its lanterns and hooks fell to the ground.

The green light in its eyes flickered, and it fell to the ground in pain, screaming loudly, just like the people who have been tortured by it for thousands of years.

This undead is named Thresh. It is the most special one among the countless undead on the Shadow Island.

His story has been sung for centuries. People feared him and dared not even call him by his first name.

But with hatred and fear he called him the Hooker, the Warden of Ghosts. It has a penchant for torturing people and delights in the screams of people, and its evil lanterns store the souls of countless people it has killed.

They were endlessly tortured by Thresh. But if it's just that, it's not enough and makes it so daunting that it doesn't even dare to mention its name. What really made it known to the world was a poet hundreds of years ago.

This poet comes from a country long buried in the dust of history. But his work still survives. Fourteen of the seventeen long poems he was discovered were about Thresh.

The poet calls Thresh an extremely cruel and evil undead, full of fear in his poems.

It feeds on the screams of people. It will take decades to make you feel extremely miserable, and with every tear you shed, every scream you make, his pleasure grows a little bit.

And that epic fourteen long poems describe the story of Thresh's seventy years to bring bad luck to three generations of kings and grandchildren of the poet's country.

Especially the chapter about the princess is even more chilling.

Thresh appeared in the night bedroom, using her brother as a bargaining chip, forcing her to put some kind of poison into her father's tea.

After her father drank the glass of poisonous wine and fell into a coma, Thresh appeared again, and he let the princess carefully watch his father's anatomy ceremony. The bloodiest part of the whole poem is here, the princess is forced to read the whole thing, and even the knife that Thresh used to kill her father was handed to it by the princess.

After watching all this, Thresh told her that your brother had already been killed by me.

The princess died of excessive grief. But death is not the end, Thresh hooked the princess' soul out with his infamous scythe, put it into his soul-inducing lantern, and put it intimately with her brother and father.

But this psalm is too detailed, as if the poet is a personal experiencer, so there are always many doubters.

It was not until the appearance of Soul Eating Night and Thresh really appeared in front of people that people discovered that what the poet said was actually true. It doesn't matter how he finds out about it, after all, it's all true.

For hundreds of years, plays based on these fourteen long poems have often been theater hits.

And now, this ever terrifying undead has tasted terror.

The ground under its feet turned into a black swamp, and several pitch-black tentacles pulled it down. It simply cannot resist.

Only at that moment, it felt that it had come to a silent black space. There is nothing here but nothingness. Thresh's perception began to rust. No matter how he begged for mercy, cursed, promised rewards, or even revealed the fundamental purpose of Soul Eating Night, no one responded to him.

There is nothing but nothingness.

When its self-consciousness was about to be wiped out, a voice appeared: "Thresh, why are you so unrepentant?"

A thought arises in its hazy consciousness: I recognize this voice.

When is it?

As if, when I was alive...

alive. These two words made it sober for a moment, who was that voice?

It tried hard to recall, and finally found the answer in its memory filled with other people's screams.

It was the elder of the sect he served when he was still alive, and it was him who arranged for him to stay away from others and live in isolation, so that he could not get the recognition he thought he should have. Thresh's anger surged up instantly. It wanted to say something, but it found itself unable to make a sound.

The voice went on: "You killed so many people, tortured them with all your might, and you fed on the pain and screaming of your own kind...why don't you repent?"

"Although I have long discovered your cruel nature, I am still willing to give you the opportunity to think carefully in a place far away from the crowd. But not only did you not, but you even let that crazy king kill us and turn Fuguang Island into a became a shadow island..."

There was pain in the voice, and Thresh wanted to laugh out loud, but it couldn't make any sound, it could only listen.

"Now...I see it clearly. You don't deserve to be saved. A monster like you doesn't deserve to be saved. If you can't repent now, that's okay. We have time for you to Recognizing your mistakes in endless years."

The elder said with the sympathetic attitude he remembered Thresh. Thresh hated the feeling, but it still couldn't speak, it was driving him crazy—and, what do we mean?

"Don't understand? It's okay, you'll understand."

The dark space around him was instantly illuminated, and Thresh found himself on a high platform, lying on the most central stone slab.

Surrounded by a dense mass of dead people, it was surprised to find that it knew every face. That's everyone it killed with its own hands. It used to play with their souls carefully and collect them well, but now, it is surrounded by its own collections and prey.

anger.

He wanted to scream. How dare you? How dare you? I'm the one responsible for the torture! I'm the!

The elder stepped forward, and he said softly, "You are not human."

Immediately afterwards, he lightly cut Thresh's lower abdomen with the knife in his hand. Thresh was stunned for a moment, and a strange feeling came up, what is this?

"Don't understand? This feeling is called pain. You won't die. Don't worry. You killed us all once, so you owe us all life. When I kill you , you will be resurrected. Endless pain and torture, isn't that what you want?"

Do not!

It wanted to scream, but it couldn't make a sound.

It looked down and found that it had regained the fragile body it had when it was still alive.

The knife in the elder's hand was slowly cutting on his lower abdomen. The pain came like a tide, and after a few minutes, he died. Then reborn again. Bloodstains, internal organs, all disappeared. The next man stepped forward with hatred in his eyes, holding nothing in his hand except a thin thread.

He shouted angrily: "This is the price you paid for strangling my wife! Devil!"

The man tightened the thin thread in his hand around his neck and pulled it hard. Thresh had difficulty breathing at first, blushing and trying to inhale, but to no avail. After a minute and a half, it suffocated.

When resurrected again, it looked at the endless crowd with nothing but despair in its eyes.

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He Shenyan stretched out his hand and picked up the lantern. Gently opening the lamp cover, countless green lights frantically squeezed out from it, illuminating the night like day. The mother and child lying on the ground also got up not long after, and beside them stood an illusory figure, a man with a hunched waist.

"Go."

The mage turned around and gently crushed the lanterns, freeing all the lanterns within. Only a slightly larger spot of light hovered back beside him, flying up and down, as if begging for something. He glanced at the spot of light in surprise, and laughed dumbly: "Okay, then I'll be a good person and do it to the end."