Chapter 264: 263 Ancient Hatred Adds a New Dimension to “Huo” Tonight
Chapter 264: 263: Ancient Hatred Adds a New Dimension Tonight – For Brother “Huo Zheng Quite Well” [1320].
“The brazen Blood Wyvern has colluded with the Witch Hunters! Avalon’s power looms over this place, and we’ve suffered heavy casualties!”
Wolfsbane’s growl echoed through the dark sewers, representing a drastic change in the battlefield. The original suppression of the Blood Vulture remnants by the Wolfsbane vanguard had been wrenched back into place after the Witch Hunter faction had joined the Dark Hunt, and with the prolonged battle between Corando and Murphy, the position of the Wolfsbane fighters, who had been broken in all directions, had become precarious.
This made the heart of Mark Corando, who was leading a group of elite warriors to break around without fail, sink more and more.
They had already killed many of the Blood Vulture’s elite blood servants, but instead of scaring the other side, this cold and brutal death made their aura more and more ferocious.
That kind of common enemy in this hidden killing opportunities in the sewers is an incomparable “thrilling” way to play, Mark Corlando more than once to see those crazy “blood servants” holding the bomb and the son of wolf venom and die together.
He couldn’t imagine the mental state of these guys!
You’re fucking Bloodservants!
He’d never seen a Bloodservant on Grimm’s Island go this crazy for a vampire, and weren’t these Sons of the Vulture really afraid of death?
It wasn’t right!
No amount of tenacity in the human spirit could completely ignore the threat that death posed, and yet these guys in front of him had gone beyond just ignoring death, they were even scornful and mocking it.
“Evil Art!”
A Wolfsbane Psychic beside Mark cursed:
“The motherfucking Blood Vulture Clan must have used some kind of evil magic that we can’t understand to transform their heirs, they’re too crazy! It’s almost as if they’ve been neutered of all fear. I can’t feel the slightest ripple of anything other than frenzy and grotesque joy inside them, they’re like a bunch of…”
“Eat my human flesh bomb!”
Before she could finish her words, she heard a loud roar from a broken voice, followed by a small player covered in alchemy explosives and already all lit up lunging out from the corner in front of her with crimson eyes.
The guy was also clutching two lit incendiary flasks in his hand, making his lunge like Crazy Ivan.
“Brother Loyalty! Don’t do it! You’re charging too fast, we can’t keep up with you to refill your blood ah you this madman!”
There was a small group of players behind them yelling and screaming, but they were completely unable to stop the death attack unleashed by this crazy guy in front of them.
Mark saw him, as a Descendant of Wolfsbane, he didn’t see the slightest bit of fear in the frenzied eyes of this madman in front of him, and there seemed to be a touch of what he couldn’t understand in those crazy eyes .
A leap of faith?
Oi!
Get your head out of your ass!
Do you realize what you’re doing now!!!!
“Boom!”
At the same time when Mark’s staff sword pierced into Loyalist’s heart, those “spiked” bombs on the latter’s body also detonated at this moment.
Terrifying flames rose, corrosive venom and poisonous smoke erupted, and the liquid that spilled out was so sticky that it started to burn on the skin of Mark and the psychic master’s hairy skin next to him.
There was no way to extinguish it.
“Ah!”
The psychic screamed as she fell to the ground, Mark Corando tried to pull her back but was waved away.
“Go! Move!”
The thug woman screamed at Mark:
“They’re all a bunch of crazies! The Blood Vultures don’t care if they live or die, they don’t care about themselves, we’re screwed! It’s a death trap left for us, run!”
“Run? Where are you planning to run?”
The grim, brutal voice was accompanied by the shattering blast of the wall behind him, and Mark Corando looked back to see Maxim appearing out of the darkness, carrying a Wolfsbane Warrior beaten to the brink of death in one hand, and kicking the ancient wall open amidst a cloud of dust, while Madame Adele appeared silently out of the darkness flanking him with her heir, Dorothy.
On the other side, the excited roar of a scorpion lion signaled ominous news, and in the gleeful pursuit of the Poor Touch and Brother Belly, the two of them, led by the Grand Duke’s head of the guard, “Crazy Bonnie”, had rushed out and blocked the last breakout from the four corners of the land.
Wolfsbane can’t fly!
These powerful elite monsters were obviously unable to escape!
The small players looked at the obviously extraordinary equipment on Mark Corando in front of them, and their eyes lit up in the darkness with never-concealed greed.
Even though they had just lost many of their companions, they didn’t seem to feel an ounce of emotion over this death.
This unique and oozing gaze made Mark Corando shiver.
He suddenly realized that what he knew about the Blood Vulture seemed to be limited to the hatred in the past, while the current Blood Vulture had long been transformed and different.
No!
They were no longer even the vampires he was familiar with, no longer the traditional to the point of disgusting Midnight Sons, they were more like a group of monsters in vampire skin.
No one could have imagined the insanity that had been shoved underneath that shell.
Father had made a terrible mistake!
Mark Corando sighed in his mind as he drew his staff sword out, and it occurred to him at that moment in his mind that not only his father, but the entire Grey Claw faction seemed to have made a grave mistake.
They were convinced of the weakness of the Blood Wyverns, but the family seemed to be being reborn in a grotesque way that they could not even imagine.
NOT.
Perhaps it would be more appropriate to call it “returning the body to the soul” rather than “transforming the body into a new one”?
After all, the Wolfsbane clan’s warriors were normal people, even if they were fierce, so how could they possibly be a match for a group of crazy people who couldn’t be reasoned with?
On the other side, near the ancient sewer area.
Miss Phoebus was performing the final “ritual” here, according to Murphy’s previous instructions, she was going to use the spiritual energy of turning stone into mud to reseal the rift that led to the third floor cavern.
This means that the Jackal Pioneers and a few Wolfsbane Warriors who are still fighting with the Ghouls in the third floor below will be completely sealed in there.
Femis understood why Murphy was doing this, she just found the treatment more or less cold.
Despite the fact that she had also taken out several werewolf venomous scumbags that tried to do away with her in the battle just now with incomparable coldness, the well-read Missy clearly understood the weaknesses of the werewolf venomous pups better than Murphy did.
They were the fiercest of the vampire clans who were the best at melee combat.
But they were also the weakest players in the manipulation of dark psychic energy, which was normal; there was always a focus to power, and thinking about wanting everything often ended in getting nothing.
Giving up their psionic blessing has allowed the Lycanthropes to be nearly as good in melee combat, and their unique “wilderness form” power has enhanced their lethality in melee combat.
It’s hard to argue that this is a bad choice, after all, the horrific battle damage ratio in the sewers has already proven that the Wolfsbane’s survival strategy is justified.
If it wasn’t for the small group of players who were as strong as mad tigers and didn’t fear death to contain Wolfsbane’s rampage with their suicidal fighting style, relying solely on the pathetic number of NPC vampires, they would have long since been routed and devoured by the wolves of Corlando.
Corando didn’t charge into the trap on his own accord!
That brutal and vicious leader had considered everything before killing his way in, but was unable to comprehend the unique existence of the otherworldly elves.
And it was this that doomed them to failure.
“But it’s not his fault either.”
Missy thought in her mind as she cast the spell:
“Corandor has done well enough, who would have thought that Murphy could summon otherworldly people who aren’t afraid to die to add to the rise of Transylvania? That’s totally um, in his words, cheating tactics now.”
“I feel like you’re slandering me, and while I don’t know why you’re sympathizing with the enemy, I must make it clear that it’s just the best way to go at the moment.”
Murphy’s voice rang out from behind just as Phimis’ associations unfolded.
Missy looked back to see Murphy striding with two swords, Cold Tooth in his left hand and Gray Claw in his right, with the buzzing and chirping Necessary Evil hovering beside him.
That magic sword looked like it had a lot of fire in it.
And all three sharp blades were dripping blood, proving that they had just drank their fill of other people’s suffering.
“How is the situation progressing?”
Missy asked, and Murphy shrugged and said:
“Judging by the battle damage ratio alone, we’ve suffered heavy casualties; over 300 Wolfsbane warriors have been disposed of a quarter of the way through, but I don’t have more than a few of my warriors left. Two of Maxim’s three scions are dead, Adele is down to two servants, Dorothy and Dinah, and the unlucky Little Widow Mary’s group is even less than half dead.
Thankfully, the Blood League Knights and Thorn Assassins were elite enough, and the cover of Leonia was enough to allow our further battered clan to retreat to safety.
Alas, the already miserable Blood Wyvern clan is in even worse shape now.
If it weren’t for the fact that Tris and I are cold-blooded enough to not care about the casualties of our people, this night’s melee alone would have been enough to wipe out the last vestiges of the Blood Vulture Clan’s vitality.
Korando is a formidable opponent.
He could have dragged the Blood Vultures down with him to hell to fulfill his ambition, but unfortunately, three days from now, in the morning, those fearless spirits will return to this land alive and well.
So rounding up a bit and ignoring those ‘necessary attrition’ of the olden days, we can proudly proclaim that we have achieved an outstandingly great victory! So I’d also like to ask you, Phimis, what do you think of the future I’ve chosen for Clan Bloodwyvern?” “I can’t see it, but I am greatly impressed.”
Missy bristled, and swung her Night Whispering Staff in her hand.
Sealing the last bit of the rift with flowing mortar, the roar of the jackals and ghouls coming from below was completely sealed in the strata.
When it was opened again, there would be nothing but death and desolation inside.
“I can’t imagine what kind of epileptic stance our clan would become after the Blood Vulture Clan possesses 500 of these ‘otherworldly vampires’. But I can be sure that once that number exceeds 5000, then the Blood Vulture Clan will become the most deviant of the seven clans.”
Missy was quite pessimistic about this future, however Murphy wasn’t as emotional as her, he shook his head and said:
“We will also become the most powerful members of the seven great clans, and even the Blood Alliance Knights under the command of His Holiness will have to bow down in front of us!
It’s not even just the Blood Wyvern’s name that has been spreading, Tris has been delving into the composition of the warriors’ psychic projections.
Perhaps it won’t be long before she brings us more surprises.
Can you imagine?
Phemis, when my warriors can walk the earth as Wolfsbane or Thorn or even Blood League Knights, as Dwarf Elves and Halflings”
“Then Transylvania’s reputation would be all but ruined, for better or for worse. Fortunately, we didn’t have much of a reputation to begin with.”
Femis rolled her eyes, Missy didn’t want to think about the horrible future.
Her work here was done, and Murphy walked with her into the deep sewers, where at their feet lay four or five twisted Wolfsbane warriors, all twisted and torn into ghastly white statues of wolf bats by mysterious and unfathomable psychic techniques.
As they walked, Murphy whispered:
“I suddenly realized that my use of psychic energy is too shallow, and I will have to ask you to teach me more afterwards.”
“Why do you need to learn from me when you have Tris, a psychic energy master, at your side?”
Missy said in surprise:
“Tris can’t teach you? That can’t be right, look at you two all day long.”
“I just don’t want to be taunted by her as an idiot.”
Murphy sighed:
“Tris has such a poisonous mouth and she always likes to give me a hard time.
Don’t worry, I’m a Summoner, and the psychic spells I have to learn are more manipulation-based holding techniques, so I won’t waste too much of your energy.”
“No, I’m happy to help.”
Missy said as she ruffled her long hair:
“Whether you realize it or not, you are now the absolute core of the Blood Vulture Clan, and I will do my best to meet your every need.
I would also like to see the name of the Blood Wyvern echo back under midnight.
And you!
You’re the one most likely to do that in the shortest amount of time, so when you’re free, I’ll teach you the most basic psionic control type techniques.
Starting with the variant techniques that can be extended from that very unique ‘Death Grip’ of yours .”
“Ow!”
A mournful howl traveled through the sewers in this instant interrupting Missy’s words, causing her to subconsciously tighten her grip on the Night Whispering Staff, while Murphy had no sorrow or joy.
He looked at the uneasy darkness in front of him, and glanced at the gray clawed staff sword he held in his hand.
He whispered:
“Corandor is dead, the Grey Claw faction is finished, well, ambition is dead, but it will nourish another mind to set the victor on a thorny path.
I am truly honored to witness this.”
“You gave him to Andre?”
Missy immediately read the true meaning of Murphy’s words, and she said in surprise:
“I thought that you would take care of Corando yourself, after all, he issued a challenge to you, and it’s not in your character to refuse.”
“I understand the sharing, Missy Femis.”
Murphy chuckled in the darkness as he said in a hushed voice:
“It is painful to try to monopolize all that is good, and only by sharing can you gain pleasure, and what’s more, something like hatred is meaningless if it is not shared.
Let’s go.
Join me in sending applause to the victor.”
—
Corando is dead.
He was almost completely frozen into an ice sculpture, the ultimate death that was only achieved by freezing flesh and blood essence under the power of the constantly unleashed Winter Essence.
Faced with an enemy who could not possibly be killed by a sword, Count Andre took the most direct and effective approach he could think of.
Of course, he had paid a lot to do so.
“Your Highness!”
Vesta, the loyal servant who was covered in blood, rushed into the darkness and saw Andre who was sitting paralyzed under that frozen ice sculpture of a wolf bat at a glance.
The latter’s left arm had been bitten off in its entirety, his chest had been torn open to the point where his internal organs could even be seen, and in order not to weaken further he could only freeze his wounds to heal slowly.
As for the Earl of White Mountain, his hair and eyebrows as well as his freshly grown beard had turned pure white in the north wind, that was the change that would be triggered by advancing the wilderness bloodline’s cold winter essence to the extreme.
The bloodline of the heroic King Boris has its own magic, but the Earl of White Mountain still gave everything he had for this hard-won victory.
His second Cold Tooth Blade broke open.
That broken blade pierced into the forehead and brow of Corando behind him, and in Andre’s hand was a silver vampire heart frozen like a jewel by the cold winter.
“Don’t touch me, let me stand on my own.”
Vesta stepped forward to assist her Count but was refused by Andrei, the young vampire was weak to the core but his eyes were filled with elation and the joy of victory.
He got up with his broken sword and patted the different ice sculpture behind him shakily, the gray-clawed commander who had completely transformed into his wolf-bat self was frozen at the end of his life in an unmistakable and brutal image, a legendary scene that even the greatest sculptor could not reproduce.
“This will be the best gift of all.”
Andrei looked at his work with satisfaction as he handed the frozen vampire heart in his hand to Vesta again, and he commanded:
“You will personally deliver this heart and this ice sculpture back to Northwind Keep to the Ice Palace. The Heart of Corandor as a gift into the 371st birthday of Ancestor Shani, and the Grey Claw Ice Sculpture as a collection I am giving to my sister, who will surely enjoy this timeless topography of a moment of triumph molded with the death of her enemies.
Vesta, you must deliver them yourself.”
Count Whitehill barked:
“This will allow our faction to be reborn .”
“It shall be done!”
The loyal servant swore with utmost seriousness, and then let the two Thorn Servants assist the Earl to leave this place, and as he stepped out of the dark tunnel he saw Murphy ahead of him and Phormis beside him.
Earl Cadman looked the miserable Andre up and down, while Earl Whitehill, who was not as graceful and solemn as he used to be, endeavored to straighten his back.
“Not bad, you’re already very qualified from the point of view of a soldier and a commander-in-chief.”
Murphy appreciated.
He turned the gray wolf’s head staff sword, which was carved to perfection, around in his hand and handed it to Andre with one hand as he said:
“But how can a commander-in-chief not have a weapon that fits? Here you are, and congratulations on the triumph of your ambition over that of others.”
“It is quite precious.”
Andrei said dumbly:
“I thought you’d collect it.”
“I have little interest in these extraneous things.”
Murphy said, waving his hand:
“Victory is all I need! Yes, victory alone is enough to soothe my generous heart. Ah, the ancient hatreds have added another to this night; hear, the wheel of hate is turning again.”
(End of chapter)