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Chapter 793: Lanchi Predicts the Ancestor's Prediction (Part 2)
Chapter 793: Lanchi Predicts the Ancestor's Prediction (Part 2)
"Your next choice is:"
A. Wantonly destroy
B. Ambush the Blood Realm
C. Lurk and sightsee
D. Personally intervene
"Destiny Remaining: 0 days, 07 hours, 31 minutes"
This time, Lanchi had no intention of seeking out the streets he had visited upon his arrival on the north shore. Asking the locals of Saint Trick for their opinions would be pointless now.
"The last choice," Talliah remarked, seeing the unusually large number of options that had appeared alongside Lanchi. They had indeed covered a lot of ground in the southern provinces of Honing.
Lanchi chose to personally intervene.
Suddenly, everything slowed down. It was as if he had woken up from a dream, regaining control over his actions. He stood atop the Moon Tower's observation deck, feeling as if he were truly there.
Looking around, he saw himself dressed in a casual vest, standing at the pinnacle of the tower.
"Hey, are you guys afraid of the Pope of Saint Pope Lancent?" Lanchi turned to the tourists visiting the Moon Tower and asked.
"The Pope? That guy who's been wreaking havoc in the Honing Empire?" a customer at the open-air cafe nearby replied casually, their tone reflecting their trust in the Blood Clan.
"You really think so?" Lanchi probed further, a hint of confusion and curiosity in his calm voice.
"Those damn people from the Saint Pope Lancent theocracy always like to badmouth the Blood Clan, but we're not going to fall for their nonsense! Look, this time it's the theocracy that's caused all the trouble, while the Blood Clan has been protecting us," another tourist chimed in.
A middle-aged man dressed in exquisite clothing expressed his discontent bitterly, his face filled with dissatisfaction towards the theocracy.
"Even the Pope himself is not clean, how can the Saint Spectre Lancent Theocracy be any good?"
Another man with a resolute expression clenched his fists and said with conviction.
"Indeed, the Pope is truly no good this time."
Lanchi quietly listened to the people of the Honing Empire, a smile curling on his lips, and even agreed.
He vividly recalled how they had once become puppets of the Blood Clan, their subservience to the blood race unchanged.
But at this moment, apart from pity, there were no other emotions in his heart.
He gently raised his fingertip.
The setting sun.
The purifying light.
Slowly descended from the sky.
In the silence and roar, even the world fell silent.
In the fiery light that destroyed everything, only the evil silver-white mask was clearly visible.
The figure in the casual vest disappeared, returning to the true body of the Saint Spectre Lancent Pope.
As the roar sounded again,
The air current had swept through the entire city of Saint Trick! The asphalt ground turned pitch-black and instantly turned into steam, the clear lake was evaporated by the high temperature of the explosion, leaving only a dry riverbed and deathly silence.
The once towering towers, bustling markets, and magnificent temples had all turned to ashes, and the unreasonably destructive explosion continued long after it ended, the sky remained obscured, leaving only a pale yellow hue.
On the ground, lava-like flames spread everywhere, heat waves swept around, making the air unbearably hot. Where the landmark building, Moon Tower, once stood, an abnormally deep pit formed, filled with a suffocating smoky smell.
Only the sound of the wind could be heard, as if mourning for all that had happened, or perhaps it was the troubled souls trapped in this ruined city finally finding their way to the heavenly land.
At the center of the explosion, the scorching waves continued unabated, and the edges of the soil constantly breathed red light.
The entire city of Saint Trick was empty, leaving only the lonely figure of the White-Robed Pope standing in the center.
"Are you paying homage to the Bishop of Destruction?"
Talliah noticed that Lanchi particularly liked to use the techniques of his teammates and former enemies.
Compared to light magic, Lanchi preferred to use other attributes of magic after practicing them.
This made him look even more villainous than the villains at times.
"This magic can perfectly simulate the destructive power of an eighth-rank expert fighting desperately at the end of his rope, and also, I originally knew this technique."
Lanchi shook his head.
"Can your fusion wolf create this effect? Next time, let's set off one at the Krex Empire's National Day celebration in Brilida and see?"
Talliah had never actually seen the power of Lanchi's fusion wolf in battle.
"No, no, no, we can't set it off in Brilida."
Lanchi firmly denied the suggestion.
If Talliah were to detonate the fusion wolf now, it would also receive the double boost of the sealing stone tablet and the fire stone tablet, and he himself would not dare to estimate its power.
At most, it could be used to threaten the enemy if necessary.
Sometimes, the most useful bombs are the ones that don't go off.
"......"
Talliah was just about to say something when she stopped, this kid had principles, but he still had a terrorist mindset.
At this moment, Lanchi's body was suddenly locked onto by several substantial magical forces.
His display of magic had startled the Blood Clan ancestors beneath Saint Trick.
Just like in the previous two weeks, the ancestors discovered the desperate Saint Spectre Lancent Pope.
"It's time to let me in, isn't it?"
Lanchi muttered to the charred land of Saint Trick.
Before he could wait any longer, the surroundings changed drastically.
The world spun, and he fell into a bizarre dimensional space.
The buildings and trees around him rushed upwards, howling fiercely as the wind blew.
He began to fall at an extremely fast speed, seeing only the upside-down city in his line of sight.
Countless buildings plunged into the pitch-black night, defying gravity, intertwining and embedding themselves in each other, the overlapping houses outlining a concave geometric pattern, like a carefully arranged three-dimensional magic maze.
The entire city hopelessly reached for the sky and helplessly fell towards the earth's core.
"Pope, you seem to be in quite a fiery mood today?"
A mocking voice echoed around Lanchi, sounding like a proclamation from a deity.
Lanchi, hidden behind the silver-white mask, smiled but did not speak.
He hung upside down, his white robe fluttering, freely falling towards the direction of the Blood King's Palace.
"Lanculos, I've really been looking forward to seeing you these days, and you didn't even notify me of your arrival, making me feel quite left out."
The mocking voice of the third ancestor, Lasharl, lingered in the darkness.
After floating for an unknown amount of time, Lanchi was enveloped by a palace.
The wide corridor in front of him disappeared and reappeared elsewhere, doors constantly shifting to different spaces, stairs winding endlessly, and the long corridors on both sides of the door constantly opening and closing, spilling out a surging blood sea that seemed capable of devouring everything.
Suddenly, an elaborate sliding door slowly opened in front of Lanchi.
Without hesitation, he walked through, and his falling speed began to slow.
Lanchi looked around and gently landed in the center of the circular plaza of the Blood Moon City.
"Welcome to Blood Moon City, Saint Spectre Lancent Pope."
A handsome boy slowly walked out of the blood mist, the owner of the voice, and bowed gracefully as if in a curtain call.
He had a delicate appearance, porcelain-like skin, and smooth brown hair that fell to his shoulders.
The pure black velvet robe accentuated his otherworldly aura, and the golden embroidery of the Honing noble family crest on his robe suggested he was a well-bred young master. However, upon gazing into his ruby-like eyes, one could sense the wisdom that far exceeded his apparent age.
"Now that you've successfully made your way to Blood Moon City and may have learned a thing or two about the demons, how do you feel?"
A hint of playfulness flashed in Lasharl's eyes as he arched an eyebrow.
"I feel great."
The silver-white masked Pope's eyes blazed with intensity as he stared past Lasharl into the mist, locking onto the positions of the other ancestors.
A fiery arc of light burst from his palm, shooting straight into the sky, instantly illuminating the entire Blood Moon City like a blazing inferno.
Countless brilliant lights converged in the air, forming a hellish net that blanketed the city.
"Don't go all-out right after arriving, Pope, there are still plenty of surprises in store.
"Duke Lasharl sneered.
A purple-red tortoise shell-like magical barrier quickly formed around Lasharl, blocking out the fiery net.
The two magical forces collided violently in mid-air, exploding with a deafening roar.
Lanchi remained unmoved, his hand continuously channeling the light fire spell.
But gradually, this clash seemed to reach a stalemate.
On the ground within a radius of several kilometers, a grand magic formation took shape beneath the feet of the Third Ancestor, Lasharl, emitting magical power far surpassing the might the Pope had just unleashed. Countless purple-red specks of light went wild in the Blood King's Palace, transforming into blood-colored giant pythons that roared towards the Pope's light formation, causing the air to stagnate.
Lanchi silently intensified his spellcasting, swiftly constructing a rock sealing shield in front of him.
Even against Duke Lasharl's full-force strike, the rock shield remained unwavering, only fine cracks appearing on its surface like spreading spider webs.
The next second, dazzling lights burst forth from the Pope's body, intertwining in mid-air to form tens of thousands of light wheels, carrying the force of a thousand jun and crushing down on Lasharl.
The two destructive forces violently collided in the void, and the entire Blood King's Palace erupted with an earth-shattering boom. In an instant, both offenses were neutralized, and the situation returned to calm.
'Hmph, Lanculos, even though you've fallen from your peak, you're still inherently advantageous against us.'
Lasharl remained calm and collected after the exchange, a playful smile hanging on his face.
The Pope slowly lowered his hand, his expression hidden beneath the mask, indiscernible.
'Lanchi, have I watched this part three times already?'
Although Talliah believed that the details were different each time.
But the opening of the first three simulations was pretty similar.
Except for the first time when he really couldn't win.
The subsequent times were Lanchi enjoying himself.
'Then even with my direct interference, I still can't skip this part?'
Lanchi rebutted with reason.
'Yeah...'
Talliah was powerless to refute.
The upside-down dignitary, Tebiri Rus, was at least qualified as a designer in this regard, giving the Tebiri Mirror a function similar to skipping.
But it was limited to scenarios where there was no direct interference.
Previously, Lanchi had mentioned that their company's planners didn't want to implement a skip function, and then one of the planners' mothers suddenly passed away, so Lanchi organized his colleagues to pay their respects to the planner's mother.
Blazing flames suddenly gushed out from the ground, like scorching lava, the Blood King's Divine Fire instantly engulfing the entire plaza, turning this pitch-black space into a crimson abyss.
Scorching heat began to roast the Pope's body.
The hellfire that the Pope had released earlier also spread across the ground, indistinguishable from the flames of the Blood King's Palace.
'You few shouldn't just stand by and watch either. Join in and entertain our guest.'
Duke Lasharl turned his head, gazing meaningfully into the sky, a smirk on his face, and called out to the few figures lurking in the blood mist at the edge of the Blood Moon City's plaza.
'I guess there's half a second left.'
Lanchi hadn't finished his muttering when a figure suddenly appeared before him.
A burly man stepped out of the mist, his military uniform's golden tassels fluttering in the wind. A provocative smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and surging power emanated from his body, his uniform straining to contain it.
He abruptly thrust out his right fist, striking at the Pope's face with lightning speed.
As the booming sound reverberated through the Blood King's Palace, Lanchi's figure barely dodged this heavy blow.
The Pope's movement seemed clumsy, his single-footed landing appearing flustered, yet his robe remained untouched by dust.
'Haha, Pope, are you performing acrobatics?'
Eighth Ancestor Somerset asked, observing the Pope's comical and exaggerated actions.
Soon, the Pope would realize that the peace of this era was merely an illusion.
The deaths of his worm companions would inevitably be meaningless.
And he would come to know that he no longer possessed the strength to resist the Blood Clan in his twilight years, a realization that would fill him with helpless rage.
Moreover, he was unaware that even if he retained his Ninth-Rank power, it would be futile, for the Blood Clan had already planted their toxic seeds all over the world.
'Somerset, even though he has fallen from his peak, he inherently possesses an advantage over us.'
A cold female voice echoed from within the blood mist, carrying a warning tone.
A stunningly beautiful female vampire emerged, clad in a deep purple thin silk skirt. As she stepped into the fray, the magical auras of Duke Lasharl and Marquis Somerset soared to new heights, reaching an entirely new level.
'Your Holiness, have you not killed enough on your way here? We vampires have probably killed fewer people than you.'
Another voice sounded out leisurely.
The blood mist condensed into form, and an exceptionally handsome man with golden brown hair stepped forward. He wore a cream-colored silk shirt with a velvet waistcoat, a green emerald necktie at his collar, and his golden brown curls casually draped over his forehead, partially obscuring his ruby-like eyes.
'You've wasted so much of the food we painstakingly raised. Shouldn't you compensate us somehow? Perhaps give us some pleasure?'
Marquis Bernhard, the Ninth Ancestor, inquired with the cordial tone of a hospitable gentleman.
Heritier's prophecies had never been wrong.
The twilight Saint Spectre Lancent Pope now had, at most, a day or two left to live.
'Your Holiness, why are you so silent? Could it be that you've foreseen your own demise and are now filled with despair?'
Duke Lasharl inquired, his tone dripping with contempt as he toyed with his prey.
He eagerly anticipated witnessing the Pope's gradual breakdown.
'Nope.'
The White-Robed Pope lifted his index finger and shook it.
'Hmm?'
Lasharl narrowed his eyes.
'Then what do you mean?'
Lanchiros' response was truly beyond his expectations.
That masked figure in white remained silent, his calmness excessive.
From Lanchiros, Lasharl couldn't sense a hint of surprise or any awareness of the power gap between them. Instead, everything seemed natural, as if it were only to be expected. The madness and fury were gone, replaced by the composure of one enjoying afternoon tea.
Furthermore, he kept his index finger raised, not lowering it.
Lasharl couldn't fathom what he meant by that gesture.
The White-Robed Pope slowly raised his hand and, for the first time, removed his mask. His relaxed smile remained unchanged.
'I only need one finger to fight against all of you.'
His gaze penetrated through his elongated fingers, his tone natural as he addressed the four ancestors before him.
---
(End of Chapter)
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