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Chapter 788: Lanchi Listens to the Blood Clan's Mournful Cry (Part 2)
Chapter 788: Lanchi Listens to the Blood Clan's Mournful Cry (Part 2)
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【"Do you truly view the Blood Clan in such a positive light?"】
【You continue calmly.】
"Those damn fools from the Saint Soul Pope Nation always like to badmouth the Blood Clan. But do we believe them? It's the Saint Soul Pope Nation that's hurting us, while the Blood Clan is protecting us."
"The Blood Clan should have driven the demons out of this world a long time ago. Those damn demons who broke the North-South Treaty and betrayed us—there must be a connection between them and the Demon Realm!"
【You listen to the words of the people of the Honing Empire.】
【A smile of relief spreads across your face.】
【You vividly remember how they would soon become living blood bags for the Blood Clan.】
The text of the Tebiriuss Mirror continued to appear, crawling up the clothes of the people of Saint Trick, forming intricate patterns of Demon Clan script—
【Your choices are:】
【A. Wreak Havoc】
【B. Assault the Blood Realm】
【C. Lie in Wait and Investigate】
【D. Intervene Personally】
【Time Remaining: 1 day, 13 hours, and 49 minutes】
"This should be the final choice.
"Talia guessed that this round of simulation was also coming to an end.
But this time, it was different from the last time, where they had reached a dead end.
Not only did they have information, but they also had power.
'I'll do it myself,' Lanchi said, feeling that it would be a waste not to play this max-leveled character after experiencing the suffering in the last simulation.
'Hmm, I want to play too,' Talia pleaded pitifully.
But she knew that she couldn't interfere with Lanchi's body at the moment.
She could only watch as Lanchi operated the character.
'Once I reach the ninth stage in the real world, I'll let you play,' Lanchi said softly.
'Okay, it's a deal! You're truly a good disciple of Master,' Talia replied, still full of confidence in Lanchi. Although she thought that it might not be within the scope of his own story for him to reach the unconventional stages of eighth or ninth, she had always been patient and believed in the strength of the ninth-stage Lanchi.
For the first time, Lanchi chose to intervene personally.
Everything suddenly slowed down.
He felt as if he had woken up from a dream, gaining free control of his actions, and stood in Saint Trick with an unprecedented sense of reality.
He saw himself wearing a casual vest, standing on a pedestrian street in a bustling commercial district.
In the azure sky dotted with sparse clouds, flocks of birds flew by in the distance.
Under the shade of sycamore trees along the street, people crowded the open-air cafes, elegantly dressed gentlemen and ladies taking a break, savoring the aromatic coffee, and chatting away.
'Lanchi, this feels so real that it's almost like a whole new world,' Talia exclaimed, thinking that they had entered an entirely new world.
This was a complete projection of the future by the Tebiriuss Mirror.
Unlike the artificial shadow world, which couldn't handle the full power of high-level challengers and could only simulate a shadow world of four to five stages at most.
With the Tebiriuss Mirror, one could go all out no matter how strong they were.
'Yeah,' Lanchi replied, taking in the surroundings.
This was the legendary magical artifact, surpassing even epic-level artifacts, and despite its limitations and negative effects, it transcended all common sense.
In the real world, the national treasure of the Krexe Empire, the Holy Sword of Cyross, must also be a red-level legendary artifact, full of infinite possibilities.
However, Lanchi wasn't the least bit obsessed with the power of red-level artifacts.
Once something reached the red level, it would inevitably carry an ominous nature.
Just like the [Palroni's Grievance Record], it was a book-type magical artifact that came into being, filled with suffering and tragedy.
'Time to get down to business,' Lanchi took a deep breath and scanned the people of Honing walking back and forth.
'People of Honing!'
Lanchi, standing in the street, took a deep breath and shouted, attracting the attention of the people around him as if he were about to ask the final question.
'If I were to wipe out the Blood Clan, what would you do?'
He boldly asked the people this question.
The pedestrians on the street and the customers in front of the shops suddenly stopped whatever they were doing.
They turned around in unison, their footsteps heavy, and glared at him.
'Then you are our enemy!'
The calm expressions on the faces of the people of Saint Trick suddenly turned vicious and hateful as they glared at Lanchi.
'Hahahaha!'
Lanchi burst out laughing, relieved.
In the daytime streets of Saint Trick, only Lanchi stood out from the crowd, stared at by the people with enmity, about to be swarmed, yet he stood alone, laughing aloud.
'Lanchi, can you hear me?'
Talia's voice sounded in Lanchi's ear.
In the last simulation, it was at this moment that Lanchi's mental trauma had acted up, and he couldn't hear her speak. He felt sad and helpless but couldn't control his laughter.
'I can hear you,' Lanchi replied clearly and cheerfully.
'That's good,' Talia said, relieved.
Seeing that Lanchi was truly happy and not suffering, she felt that his mental state had improved.
She was sure that not only had Lanchi not triggered his mental trauma, but he also seemed more optimistic.
The angry crowd was like a pot of boiling water, rushing towards him.
'Take back your erroneous statement!'
A young man in a suit led the way, roaring with rage, the veins on the back of his hand popping out like a raging beast, his eyes shooting hatred, ready to deliver a fatal blow to Lanchi.
'Don't be angry,' Lanchi's laughter gradually subsided, his expression still calm.
He merely curled his lips and lifted his hand, delivering a lightning-fast slap.
A crisp 'smack' resounded, deafeningly loud, and the young man was sent flying like a baseball, disappearing into the horizon like a star in the sky.
The crowd froze, their eyes wide with shock.
This guy seemed to have used a humiliating fairy tale-like wind magic, sending the man flying without causing much harm or killing him.
'Apologize! Apologize to the Blood Clan!'
But before they could imagine what kind of magic a wizard of such a high stage could use, their shock was quickly replaced by anger, and another dozen or so citizens rushed forward, cursing loudly, swearing to tear this man who had insulted the Blood Clan to shreds.
Another slap, and another person was sent flying.
'Why are there so many blood fanatics?'
Lanchi's expression remained unchanged, his demeanor unhurried.
He stood amidst the raging crowd, his palms moving like flowing clouds, sending everyone who approached him flying with a single slap, turning them into stars in the sky.
In the blink of an eye, over a hundred people disappeared from view.
The rest of the people went crazy, roaring as they rushed towards the street where Lanchi was standing, engulfing his figure in a wave.
'Since you are committing a crime in broad daylight, I have no choice but to defend myself. It shouldn't be a problem, right?'
Lanchi waved his hand, and his magic swept through the crowd, lifting everyone in the capital into the air.
The entire city's population was sent flying like falling leaves.
He moved his palms with the flow of the clouds, changing the sky's appearance, and the force that penetrated the cloud layer carried the unique essence of wind, gently blowing across the land. The hurricane swept through the entire city, and no one could escape!
Eventually, everyone was knocked flying!
'Damn, Lanchi, did you really do that?'
Talia watched the insane scene of the entire city's population being knocked into the air.
She never imagined that the usually gentle and refined Lanchi would do such a thing.
With his own power, he knocked an entire world flying!
'Now the capital is peaceful,' Lanchi said, putting on a silver-white mask, satisfied with the empty capital of Saint Trick.
The streets were empty, with only Lanchi left standing in the center.
"Why do you always have a fixation with wind magic?" Talia asked, curious as to why Lanchi, after taking Rankloos' form, still preferred to use wind magic like he did in the mortal world.
She thought Lanchi was being overly kind.
Soon, the sound of battle would likely echo through the area.
And if these people on the surface were caught in the crossfire, they might end up as blood bags for the vampires.
By sending the residents of the capital flying away, Lanchi was preventing them from approaching the city and inadvertently becoming snacks for the vampires.
Yet, despite Lanchi possessing Rankloos' body, which was more adept at spiritual or psychokinetic magic, he still chose to use wind magic to blow people away.
"I've always wondered what it would be like to use genuine eighth-stage wind magic." Lanchi mused, as if he were a child eager to test out a new toy.
"Are you a child...?" Talia thought to herself, finding Lanchi's train of thought similar to that of a child seeking to fulfill a childhood fantasy.
But then she imagined what it would be like if Lanchi were a little kid. Perhaps he would be a bit cute, and she might indulge his wishes like a mother would.
No, she shouldn't think like that; it felt a bit criminal.
Suddenly, Lanchi felt as if he were being locked onto by several streams of magic.
Ever since he had revealed his power earlier, the vampire ancestors beneath Saint Trick had sensed his presence and realized that the Saint Soul Pope Lanchi had arrived.
"What's the matter? Are you hesitating to greet me?" Without a moment's hesitation, Lanchi asked aloud as he grasped the entrance to Blood Moon City with his magical power.
"Then I'll come to you myself." With that, Lanchi took a step forward, and his surroundings changed drastically.
The world seemed to spin, and he felt himself losing his center of gravity as he fell into some sort of barrier.
The buildings and trees around him shot upward, and the howling wind roared in his ears.
He was falling at an incredible speed, and all he could see were the upside-down buildings of the city.
Countless structures defied gravity, hanging upside down in the pitch-black night, their intricate wooden architecture and castle-like stone walls interwoven with shimmering lights of crimson and gold, forming a layered and complex geometric pattern of concave and convex shapes.
"Your Holiness, why have you come here?" A mocking voice echoed all around, like a proclamation from a god.
The entire city seemed to stretch endlessly toward the sky, yet it helplessly fell toward the earth's core.
"What's the matter? Aren't you glad to see me?" The silver-masked Pope stood there, his hands behind his back, calmly descending toward the Vampire King's Palace.
He had already dropped his disguise and was ready for battle.
"Hehe, of course, we're glad to have you. We're just wondering if you'll still be so cocky in a moment." The voice of the ancestor resounded like a shadow in the darkness.
Lanchi didn't know how long he had been falling when he was suddenly enveloped by an enormous palace.
The corridor in front of him suddenly vanished, only to reappear elsewhere. Doors moved to different spaces, leading to entirely different dimensions. Staircases spiraled endlessly, never reaching an endpoint, and the doors on both sides of the long corridors opened and closed, revealing bone-chilling scenes. A surging sea of blood loomed in the darkness, as if it could devour everything.
Suddenly, an ornate sliding door opened before him.
He walked through and began to slow his descent.
Lanchi glanced around and gently landed in the center of a circular plaza in the Vampire King's Palace.
Thirteen massive pillars surrounded the plaza, each engraved with a gemstone totem corresponding to one of the ancestors.
"Welcome to Blood Moon City, Saint Soul Pope Lanchi." The owner of the voice finally appeared from the thick mist at the edge of the plaza—the Third Ancestor, Lacharl.
His skin was as white as porcelain, and his brown hair fell smoothly to his shoulders. He wore a pure black velvet dress, with a golden emblem of the Honing nobility on his chest.
The Third Ancestor, Duke Lacharl, looked like a rich young boy from Saint Trick at first glance, but when one looked into his eyes, they would find an endless depth that belied his youthful appearance.
"I never expected you to come here. Are you planning to cause trouble for us law-abiding vampires?" Duke Lacharl asked with a faint smile.
"Don't hide anymore; all of you, show yourselves." Without addressing the Third Ancestor's words, Lanchi gazed into the mist behind him, locking onto the presence of the other ancestors.
He raised his palm, and a dazzling ray of white lightning shot toward the sky from his hand, illuminating the entire Blood Moon City. Countless sparkling lights quickly gathered in the air, forming a giant thunder net that covered the sky and pressed down toward the city.
"Don't be so hasty to attack, Your Holiness." A purple-red magic barrier swiftly formed around Duke Lacharl, blocking the thunder net.
The two powerful magics collided in mid-air, creating an ear-piercing boom.
Saint Soul Pope Lanchi didn't move a muscle, maintaining the lightning attack.
However, the clash seemed to be fruitless.
"Hehe, so this is the extent of the mighty Saint Soul Pope Lanchi." Duke Lacharl chuckled.
A magic formation spanning several kilometers appeared on the ground beneath his feet, emitting a magical power far beyond what Lanchi had displayed.
Countless purple-red lights swirled wildly in the Vampire King's Palace, transforming into giant crimson serpent chains that rushed toward Lanchi's lightning formation. The air seemed to freeze as the two forces clashed.
"..."
The silver-masked Pope didn't say a word. Instead, he channeled his magic to form a rock sealing shield in front of him.
As the Saint Soul Pope Lanchi's and Third Ancestor Lacharl's powers collided, fine cracks appeared on the rock shield, threatening to shatter at any moment.
Dazzling lights burst forth from Lanchi's body, intertwining in the air to form countless light wheels that carried immense power as they rushed toward Lacharl.
The two destructive forces collided in the void, creating a thunderous explosion that shook the entire Vampire King's Palace.
Both magics dissipated, and Lanchi slowly lowered his hand, revealing his face.
Across from him, the Third Ancestor seemed completely unharmed.
"Tsk, tsk, Pope, you're still as stubborn as ever, refusing to listen to reason. Clearly, you're in such a weakened state, yet you still don't understand your situation. Do you truly believe you're still the invincible Saint Soul Pope Lanchi?" Lacharl shook his head, certain that Lanchi was on the verge of death, as the divination had foretold.
"..."
Lanchi remained silent.
"Lanchi, you're such an actor! Are you really going to fight exactly as you did last time?"
Talia asked in her mind, curious about Lanchi's intentions.
Everyone knew that you had to bait the hook before fishing, and scaring off the other Blood Clan ancestors would be a mistake.
Blazing flames, as red as blood, engulfed the entire plaza, turning the dark palace square into a crimson abyss.
The fire also began to scorch Saint Soul Pope Lanchi.
"You three shouldn't just stand there. Come and join me in welcoming our guest."
Third Ancestor Lacharl turned his head, his eyes narrowed as he gazed into the sky, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He addressed the three figures hidden in the blood mist at the edge of the plaza.
Before Lanchi could react, a figure appeared in front of him.
This figure's eyebrows were furrowed, and a challenging smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. As his power erupted, his military uniform was torn apart, revealing his muscular build.
His right hand shot forward, aiming directly at Lanchi's face.
A deafening blast echoed through Blood Moon City, and Lanchi nimbly dodged the attack, the dust settling around him.
He looked disheveled, but not a speck of dust marred his immaculate white robes.
Before he could fully regain his footing, a faint, alluring female scent wafted through the air.
"Don't be careless, Somerset. Even though he's just fallen from the ninth stage, you're still no match for him."
A cold, youthful female voice drifted from within the blood mist, and a figure emerged—the Seventh Ancestor, Heritier Marquis. She wore a deep purple silk dress, her eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks, accentuating the tear-shaped birthmark beneath her eye.
"Four years ago, he had just reached the ninth stage and managed to seal the Second Ancestor, Prince Salvatore, and the Fifth Ancestor, Duke Modigai. It was then that we decided to leave him alone."
Her eyes were closed, and her long eyelashes cast a shadow on her cheeks, making the tear-shaped birthmark beneath her eye even more prominent.
The Seventh Ancestor, Marquis Heritier, reminded the Eighth Ancestor, Marquis Somerset, of the danger they faced.
As she appeared, the magical power of the Third Ancestor, Duke Lacharl, and the Eighth Ancestor, Marquis Somerset, intensified.
"We offer him mercy and a dignified end to his life, but that doesn't mean he can come to Blood Moon City and cause trouble."
Before the battle could begin, another voice piped up.
"Your Holiness, you look absolutely delicious."
The blood mist condensed into the form of the Ninth Ancestor, Bernhard Marquis. He wore a white silk shirt with a black velvet waistcoat and a green cravat, his golden-brown curly hair falling loosely over his forehead, partially obscuring his red eyes.
With a smile, he approached Lanchi, his white teeth gleaming, exuding an air of refined elegance, like a gentleman inviting a guest to take a seat.
The Seventh Ancestor's divination had been accurate.
The Pope was likely to live only another day or two, and perhaps he had discovered something that drove him to rush to Saint Trick in a fit of rage.
The four ancestors stood in a line, looking down at Lanchi.
"Your Holiness, why are you so quiet? Have you realized what your fate will be from now on?"
The Third Ancestor, Lacharl, asked, his voice carrying across the distance.
"No, I'm just glad that you're all so eager to meet me."
Lanchi, hidden behind his silver-white mask, kept his expression neutral, his hands clasped behind his back as he tilted his head slightly.
"To be honest, I don't understand your impulsive decision to come to Blood Moon City alone. It's a foolish move."
The Ninth Ancestor, Bernhard, strolled across the plaza, his curiosity as a Blood Clan scholar getting the better of him.
"You should either start a war and watch the civilians of the Honing Empire suffer, or continue being the Saint Soul Pope, living out your days peacefully until your natural end. Either of those choices would have been fine..."
He sounded like a strategist, offering Lanchi advice.
However, humans often acted on their emotions, especially heroes and legends, who tended to become impulsive and reckless in their twilight years, and even the Saint Soul Pope Lanchi was not immune to this.
"So, what do you think I should do?"
Lanchi asked, his interest piqued.
He was curious to see more of the interior of Blood Moon City.
"Hehehe."
The Ninth Ancestor, Bernhard Marquis, chuckled, shaking his head.
"As for my advice, let's wait and see!"
Suddenly, a red aura enveloped the Ninth Ancestor, and his magic power surged wildly within him. Countless crimson eyes appeared all over his body, their greedy gazes fixed on Lanchi.
These eyes belonged to special enemies that Bernhard had devoured in the past, enemies with extraordinary talent. He had stolen their gifts and now wielded them as his own terrifying weapons.
As his magic raged, the refined and handsome features of the gentleman distorted and twisted, his face becoming a horrifying mass of eyes.
The Ninth Ancestor, Bernhard Marquis, no longer resembled a human, his sharp teeth bared in a grin as he charged towards Lanchi.
The eyes, filled with ravenous red light, seemed intent on devouring everything in their path.
The Saint Soul Pope, weakened to this extent, should have been easy prey for them!
"What's the rush?"
The Third Ancestor, Lacharl, joined in, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
He knew how eager Bernhard was to feast on the Pope.
However.
The silver-masked Pope lifted his arm, his hand shooting forward to strike the Ninth Ancestor.
The air crackled with pressure and the sound of explosions.
The three distant ancestors' eyes widened in shock.
Their blood-red irises reflected the colorful, scattered light of the shattered plaza.
The Ninth Ancestor, Bernhard, was slapped to pieces by the Pope, his shattered skull letting out a hoarse cry.
"How... How is this possible...? So strong..."
The Ninth Ancestor, Bernhard Marquis, managed to utter these words before his head split in half.
Before he could even begin to regenerate, the rocks around them shifted and merged, sealing him within a stone pillar.
Lanchi pressed the embedded stone pillar down with one hand.
The remaining three ancestors were stunned.
According to their intelligence and divination, the Pope should have been weakened to the point where they could defeat him.
But now...
This man in white was terrifying.
Slapping the Ninth Ancestor aside was as easy as swatting a mosquito.
Defeating him...?
That was wishful thinking!
It would be a miracle if they could even put up a decent fight!
(End of Chapter)
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