Not praying for ten strings

The Night Has Come, and kermesinus moon ascends in the sky.
Hoarse whispers flow at the street corners, and brass steam machines spew out bloody mist.
Your brain is singing a hymn, eyes are chanting a melody.
Skin cracks, and flesh buds swell.
Amidst the Mist, the wall of flesh that has devoured thousands of corpses wails endlessly—
"Weep not, our players don't bite, they just want to play with you."
Annan, the lone strategist, the top player, the savior of the mist-covered continent, the leader of the Thirteen Saints, the friend of the Twelve True Gods, the king of pioneers, "the Just", the Gatekeeper of the Fourth Calamity, the uncrowned deity, advised kindly.

Super Righteous Player

After Annan had regained his permission to go out, he immediately sought out Salvatore, who had been anxiously waiting at the Iris Bank all day.


He didn't even fully understand why the Royal Palace had suddenly gone into lockdown.


This made him slightly worried about Annan.


Because it was indeed too abnormal—when the ruler of a foreign country visits, to suddenly be banned from going out and prohibited from contact with the outside world? Wasn't that essentially house arrest?


As a Tower's Child and the future Tower Master about to inherit the Marshland Heath Tower of Black, his status in Noah was actually quite high.


But today, not only had he not been able to enter the Royal Palace, he hadn't even been able to get a message in, and he still didn't understand what had happened.


Chapter 422: Hornheim Potion Shop