Christina acted without hesitation and grabbed the person.
The minor cadre was no match for Christina and was severely injured with one move.
The person was the same minor cadre from before; after arranging Mark, he intended to come and take Elisa away.
Now he deeply regretted why he came looking for this ball of flesh.
"Who are you!" Christina demanded.
"I'm just a passerby! I just happened to pass by here."
"How could a passerby have such powerful strength? You're from The Order, aren't you!"
"I am from Shadow Garden! If you act, our Lord Shadow will not let you off!" the minor cadre shouted loudly.
Christina unhesitatingly broke three of the person's fingers.
"People from the Diabolos Cult still want to deceive me!"
The minor cadre instantly understood that the person was from Shadow Garden.
He knew what fate awaited him if he fell into Shadow Garden's hands.
He bit down on the poison in his mouth without hesitation.
To avoid suffering a fate worse than death.
Christina also didn't expect the person to commit suicide directly.
She could do nothing about it.
After three hours of Milia's effort.
Elisa returned to her original state.
If Sino had come, it would have only taken five seconds.
Sino had already taught Milia all the knowledge, but Milia wasn't very familiar with the outflow.
The recovery was very slow.
Elisa looked around in confusion and saw Christina.
"Lady Christina, have I been resurrected?"
"Something like that!"
"What about Mark?"
"I don't know. I told him to wait for me here earlier, but it seems he was captured. I don't know where he was taken."
"Thank you, both Ladies!" Elisa knelt and thanked them both.
If she could live, Elisa truly didn't want to die.
"You come with me first!" Christina said.
"Thank you very much, Lady Milia!"
"It's nothing; I didn't have much to do anyway! It was just a small favor!"
Afterward, Christina took Elisa back to her home and arranged for Christina to work as a head maid.
At this moment, Elisa discovered that the magic within her body seemed to have increased... Meanwhile, Mark woke up. He was hanging, and many people were drawing his blood for experiments.
"He indeed has diabolos cells in his body! It's strange how a man could have diabolos cells. Only the Lords of the Round Table Knight might have such stable diabolos cells!"
Loki, the Third Seat of the Round Table Knight, rushed over immediately after hearing this news.
After all, a male having diabolos cells was a significant discovery.
Not long after, Loki met Mark.
Loki looked at Mark, and the more he looked, the more familiar he seemed.
He felt like he had seen him somewhere before.
Loki ordered his subordinates to investigate this person named Mark.
A day later, Loki fell into deep thought as he looked at Mark's information.
Logically, he shouldn't know this person.
If he were a passerby, he wouldn't have such a familiar feeling.
This person must be someone who left a deep impression on him.
At this moment, a call came through to Loki's display screen.
The caller was an ordinary-looking man.
"Release the person named Mark!"
Loki remained silent, then suddenly he thought of something.
"Yes, I will release him!"
"You all go and release that experimental subject named Mark!"
"Lord Loki, he is an important experimental subject. If we keep him, our research on diabolos cells will certainly accelerate."
The researcher said.
"Do you not understand my order? I told you to release him!"
"Yes, Lord Loki."
Loki knew who had just contacted him.
The First Seat of the Round Table Knight.
And he could also guess why Mark gave him a familiar feeling.
That guy named Mark was also the First Seat of the Round Table Knight.
It was well known that diabolos was split into several pieces.
Each individual had their own consciousness and partial memories.
Since Aurora could achieve such a thing, did this mean that others with diabolos cells could also achieve it?
The First Seat of the Round Table Knight had done it.
The guy named Mark was a finger of the First Seat of the Round Table Knight.
The First Seat of the Round Table Knight was afraid of death.
Because he had almost died countless times.
He spent a thousand years successfully transforming that finger into a living person, a person with his own thoughts and independent mind.
He had been silently watching Mark.
Monitoring his every move.
An invisible thread connected the two of them.
They belonged to the same life.
If Mark didn't die, he wouldn't die; conversely, if he didn't die, Mark wouldn't die either.
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