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"What nonsense are you spouting?"

Mr. A's words made Silas freeze, and he instinctively asked back.

He could understand Mr. A's hatred toward him, but he couldn't understand why Mr. A would say such things about Cecilia.

Although he himself claid to be a transmigrator, this body was undoubtedly connected to Cecilia by blood.

Moreover, he had long since acknowledged this sister from the bottom of his heart.

How could it be Mr. A's turn, a guy whose brain was broken from believing in an evil god, to question this?

Could it be that he's deliberately saying strange things to divert my attention...

Silas watched Mr. A warily, protecting the girl behind him.

"Hehe..."

Across from him, the smile on the handso Mr. A's face beca increasingly obvious.

Finally, his shoulders shook, and he laughed out loud.

"So that's it. You've deceived even yourself.

This is too ridiculous. I thought you were so incredible figure, but you're just a ntally ill person engaging in self-deception. Hahahaha!"

His laughter was extrely cheerful, yet it was also clearly filled with malice.

In this laughter, a strong sense of unease gradually welled up in Silas's heart.

Mr. A was laughing too happily, completely unlike he was faking it. It seed he had truly discovered so problem with his sister.

No!

Cecilia is my sister... Don't listen to that madman's incitent!

"Bang!"

A bullet fired, the loud gunshot interrupting Mr. A's laughter.

"Stop laughing!"

Silas said through gritted teeth.

"I know now. You're deliberately talking nonsense to ss with my ntal state, right!"

Behind Mr. A, Ma'am M's figure slowly materialized. She quietly gazed at Silas, her golden eyes seemingly containing a trace of sorrow and helplessness.

"Heh..."

Mr. A slowly stopped laughing, straightened up, and looked at Silas with contempt in his eyes.

Their battle had continued until now, and he was showing so signs of fatigue.

However, when he spoke to Silas, his voice was still as mad and cold as ever:

"You may or may not have a sister. I don't know, and I don't care... But if you're going to call [that thing] behind you your sister, you're completely talking nonsense.

You're a Shepherd yourself, yet you still haven't noticed?"

Stop talking, stop talking!

Sowhere in his soul was screaming, as if it had already foreseen Mr. A's next words and completely didn't want to hear them.

At the sa ti, so mories that had been locked deep in his mind were slowly surfacing...

"Shut up!"

Silas roared furiously.

Cecilia is right here, right behind !

He needed to protect his sister, not listen to this madman's nonsense here!

"Boom!"

Towering crimson flas rushed toward Mr. A, completely covering his body, burning fiercely.

Mr. A bathed in the fire, his mouth still opening and closing, saying:

"Your so-called sister is clearly just a flesh puppet!

Perhaps ordinary people and Beyonders of low sequences in other pathways can't detect it, but you and I are both Shepherds.

(/n: mind blown)

Are you still going to pretend in front of ? You probably killed your own sister!"

"Go to hell!"

Silas cursed angrily.

What were flesh puppets? Did he not know? Those puppets had no will of their own.

How could they behave like normal people? Cecilia's appearance, expressions, and way of speaking were exactly the sa as in Tingen, and she could even use Beyonder abilities.

Mr. A was lying!

"Then I'll prove it to you."

In the flas, Mr. A said this.

He extended a finger toward the girl behind Silas.

"Release!"

Mr. A said in Hers, his voice floating lightly, mixed in with the sound of burning flas.

As a fellow "Shepherd," Silas was very familiar with flesh magic and knew this was the incantation shouted when canceling control over flesh puppets.

This kind of incantation had absolutely no effect on normal people, but sohow, he suddenly instinctively straightened his body, using his back to block the direction of Mr. A's finger.

However, the spreading sound easily passed over his body, echoing around them.

In that instant, Silas locked eyes with the black-haired girl.

He saw innocence and bewildernt in the girl's eyes. Her rosy little mouth opened slightly, as if she didn't know what to say.

The next mont, the girl suddenly collapsed.

"Splash."

That delicate face and beautiful body easily turned into a puddle of flesh and blood, pouring onto the ground covered with dirty black snow.

Only a black robe convenient for movent slowly floated down.

"Ceci... lia?"

Silas stood dazed, reaching out his hand, as if unable to understand where his sister had gone.

She had been fine just now. How could she disappear in the blink of an eye? Had she hidden in so shadow sowhere?

The flesh and blood on the ground trembled slightly. He could feel the flesh responding to him.

He rembered now. This was flesh from within his body, separated by himself, used to create sothing...

My flesh and blood?

Where's Cecilia?

Silas's brain seed to suddenly beco incredibly dull, completely unable to understand the current situation, or rather, refusing to understand it.

"Step."

Until a figure in white robes stepped through the black snow and appeared before him.

Ma'am M quietly looked at him. Until this mont, she, who had remained silent all along, slowly spoke.

"I'm sorry."

She said, "Cecilia died long ago."

Silas stared at her blankly, swaying and taking a step back, as if after a long ti, he finally understood the aning in her words.

"Boom!"

A grand, mysterious voice echoed in his mind.

It was a conversation between two people, one voice aged, one voice young. He heard them conversing like this:

"Father."

"My son, I am here."

"Father, please look. The wood and fire are here, but where is the lamb prepared for sacrifice to the Lord?"

The young voice was relaxed and full of vitality, cheerfully asking his father.

The aged voice was heavy and stagnant, and in the depths of that voice, endless despair and grief seed to be hidden.

"Where is the lamb for the Lord's sacrifice?"

Silas repeated blankly.

"Splash!"

His body suddenly collapsed, scattering on the ground, becoming a puddle of strange flesh and blood.

This puddle of flesh continuously wriggled, and in the gaps between the flesh, thick, deep black shadows were hidden.

He had completely lost human form. Only that face remained intact, floating on the surface of the flesh, filled with pain and confusion.

***

"!"

Silas opened his eyes and sat up abruptly.

He found himself sitting in a soft chair.

On both sides and in front and behind the chair were similar chairs with armrests, extending all the way to the end.

The aisle on the side, the huge stage at the end of the seats, the heavy curtain, the VIP boxes above, the luxurious do... All these things composed everything he saw.

A theater?

It seems to be that large theater in Tingen...

Silas recalled that when he took Cecilia to see a performance, he had seen interior decorations that seed completely similar to this place.

The theater at this mont was empty, with no audience present, only him sitting inside.

That's right, I was just outside...

"Co out!"

He jumped up, moving through the aisles and between the seats, roaring, searching.

The angry voice rumbled and echoed in the empty theater, amplified many tis.

This is my hallucination. Ma'am M, that damned woman, she must be here!

Sure enough, in his roar, a figure appeared. She wore white robes, standing before Silas, her gaze still as gentle as ever.

"Die!"

Silas roared, pushing her onto a chair, drawing a dagger from his coat and viciously stabbing it into her chest.

"Where's Cecilia? Where's my sister!"

Warm blood flowed down along the dagger, soaking his wrist. Silas's eyes were crimson as he roared at the woman, "Did you harm her? Ma'am M, why won't you just die!"

The woman looked at him, breathing with difficulty, then reached out her hand to caress his face.

"Speak! Talk to !"

Silas glared, his voice hoarse.

So the red-haired, golden-eyed woman spoke.

"...I'm not Ma'am M. The real Ma'am M died long ago."

She said.

"Lies, still trying to deceive !"

Silas shouted like a madman, the dagger in his hand twisting back and forth in her abdon.

"You're just like that Mr. A, full of nonsense! You Aurora Order are all lunatics, liars!"

"I'm not deceiving you."

A trace of sadness even appeared in the red-haired woman's golden eyes.

"I'm a personality that split off when you were in extre ntal anguish... I am part of you."

"Personality split?"

"Nonsense!"

"If my personality had split long ago, if my spirit had suffered extre anguish, how could I not rember?!"

"Still lying to !"

Silas roared in fury.

"I'm not deceiving you. You begged to help you lock that mory away deeply."

The woman looked directly at Silas. Her chest rose and fell with her words, making light contact with Silas's fingers.

I sealed away my own mories?

About my mories of extre suffering?

The woman's words exploded like thunder in Silas's mind.

He released the dagger in his hand, slowly retreating until he bumped into a chair on the other side of the aisle.

"After those mories were sealed away, you truly stopped suffering."

The woman pulled out the dagger stabbed into her body and stood up. The crimson color stained the pure white robe, displaying a cruel beauty.

"I've been trying to make this period last longer, but unfortunately, you encountered Mr. A. These mories can no longer be sealed..."

Silas could no longer answer. Sowhere in his heart, so surfacing mory fragnts were confirming the other party's words.

But, but...

Without warning, suddenly grand music sounded, and the theater beca lively.

The heavy curtain was drawn up, blocking the scenery inside the stage. A large number of spectators flooded into the originally empty theater, just like that night when he took Cecilia to see a performance.

The audience laughed, conversed, ignoring Silas and the woman present, finding their own seats and sitting down.

In his daze, Silas saw the faces of those guests.

Sirius, Hanass, Captain Edward, other team mbers from Port Enmat, Mrs. Sharon, Captain Dunn, Kaping, Silas, and many more.

Familiar ones, unfamiliar ones, those he had killed, those who died because of him, those whose nas he could call, those whose nas he couldn't... These dead had regained vitality, filling the theater, waiting for the performance to begin.

So the curtain was pulled open.

The stage set was a cetery, with a red moon hanging high.

The public cetery was cold and quiet, countless tombstones standing silently.

Suddenly, one grave shook, then sothing burst through the grave soil and erged.

It was a hand, a skinless, bloody hand.

After the hand erged, what followed was a grotesque and twisted body.

Silas in the audience saw his mad and twisted self push open the coffin and grave soil, bathing in the moonlight.

When he discovered he was still alive, sohow, he looked extrely pained.

No, it should be said, extrely anguished.

He watched himself use his not-yet-recovered head to strike tombstones, beat himself, and struggle on the ground.

That wasn't physical pain, but more so, it ca from the spirit, from the scene he saw before death.

"Why! Why!"

Silas saw himself on stage desperately questioning himself, calling out his sister's na, "Cecilia! Cecilia!"

"Stop, don't rember anymore! I don't want to suffer like this..."

"Rip!"

Suddenly, his fingers dug deep into his own head, actually tearing his skull apart like that.

In the steaming flesh tissue, the illusory sound of ocean tides rang out.

The tide surged, floating up his own illusory form, which he grabbed with his hand and tore off a piece!

"Ahh!"

Tearing his spirit caused him imnse pain, but he didn't stop his actions.

That illusory fragnt separated from the main body, falling to the ground.

Before long, it wriggled and transford into a new illusory figure.

Red hair, golden eyes, wearing white robes, resembling Ma'am M.

"This is how I was born."

Silas heard the woman beside him speaking. "In your subconscious, you shaped my image into this appearance.

Probably because you felt that soone with this appearance possessed extrely strong ntal control abilities."

The performance on stage continued.

After the figure resembling Ma'am M appeared, Silas didn't stop his actions but continued tearing his own body, using the torn flesh to create a girl's body, with precise proportions, completely consistent with Cecilia.

However, this body appeared stiff and eerie, with life but no soul.

The figure resembling Ma'am M assisted on the side. Her golden eyes glowed, and the illusory sound of ocean tides seed to ring out.

Transparent shadows slowly ford from the air, falling into the girl's body.

Thus, the originally dull girl quickly beca animated, as if a puppet had gained a soul.

"Her personality was created based on your mories, using the authority of that sea."

Below the stage, the woman's voice continued.

On the stage, the girl stood up, supporting the exhausted Silas.

"Brother."

She said, her voice exactly the sa as Cecilia's.

"No, you're not..."

Silas on stage appeared extrely pained after hearing this, shaking his head continuously.

He turned to Ma'am M, saying to her, "Make forget about these things, make forget!"

The performance stopped abruptly there, the curtain slowly closing.

However, the audience had no intention of applauding, because this was only the first act of the story.

There were still more important plots to be perford afterward.

You are reading LOTM: The Last Shepherd Chapter 259 259: [260] : Father, Where Is the Lamb for the L on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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