251 Chapter 51, Sea of ​​Blood

Under the huge full moon, on the sandy ground of the dungeon, another gray-haired boy also fell sideways on the sandy ground, unable to speak. He could hear someone screaming in a high-pitched voice in the distance.

"Hoffa!!"

It was the nun's desperate voice.

He tried his best to raise his neck, looked at the sharp knife protruding from his chest, and then at the gap in Mance's chest that was still gushing blood. He stood like nothing happened, but he could feel the rapid flow of life.

Hoffa's head was a little dazed. He never thought that a Muggle whose chest was stabbed could still stand on his own majesticly and poke his chest with a knife. How did he do it? I'm afraid that even vampires don't have such tenacious vitality.

"What's wrong with you?" Hoffa struggled to breathe.

"Want to know?"

Mance pointed to his chest and said with a smile, "I won't tell you."

He drew his blade and threw the steel spike away with a clang. The bloody steel thorns rolled far away on the sand, and then he dragged Chloe who was kneeling and crying bitterly, twisted her neck, and forced her to look at Hoffa.

"Look at him, and appreciate the state of your friend when he died. If you want to keep those children, you'd better meet my expectations quickly."

Hoffa wanted to say something, he didn't know what he wanted to say, maybe a curse at the bastard, maybe a last comfort to the nun, but he couldn't do anything.

"You let me go, let me go...!"

The nun was dragged by Mance and drifted away like a torn sack.

Life was passing by at a rapid rate, and his strength was no longer enough to support him to do anything else. He slipped and fell to the ground from the corner of the wall clutching his chest, and the darkness gradually engulfed his pupils.

The last scene he saw was Mance dragging the nun and leading the group of children farther and farther away, and finally disappeared from his vision.

Are you going to die?

He didn't see a chance, this was the final injury he'd ever suffered and the closest he'd been to death. He has completely stepped into the gate of hell. Somewhere, he even saw the god of death smiling at him.

At this moment, all kinds of helplessness came to my heart.

Fall short, just a little bit, a little bit. He will be able to send the nun to London, maybe Fatile will use her ability to change history, maybe he can still see Aglaia in his lifetime.

Aglaya thought of her, and a sharp pain burned in Hoffa's body, and he couldn't help but began to moan. It was an irrepressible desire to survive that broke out deep in my heart.

to die? No, he must not die.

His life bears her expectation, no matter what, he cannot die.

But his heart had already been pierced, and even in an activated state, he couldn't heal such a fatal wound. He kept converting magic power into life, but life flowed out along the wound.

He lay on the ground, racking his brains to think of a way to not die. But no matter how he thought about it, it seemed unrealistic. There was not even a living person around him.

The great uneasiness submerged him like the sea, his soul was like a candle in the wind, and the eyes could see the darkness, only the numb lips could taste the blood flowing from his heart.

Is there still a chance?

Feel the warmth on your lips.

That is the temperature of the blood.

Stimulated by this taste, a bold and crazy idea was born. There is one last chance.

He tried his best to transform all the magic power into life, barely opened his eyes, supported himself, lingered, dragged himself bit by bit, and crawled towards the blood pool in the distance.

Finally, he stopped on the edge of the marble pool, and now he could not breathe, and he was only a few feet away from death.

Blood dripped from his mouth into the pool of blood, and he was so dazed that he couldn't do anything.

The moonlight broke through the dark clouds again, and shone down from the dome. The boiling pool of blood had calmed down. However, after it tasted Hoffa's blood, it boiled again, like an extremely excited organic life.

Afterwards, countless bloody hands made of fresh blood stretched out from the blood pool, grabbed Hoffa's body, and pulled him down from the pool.

With a plop. Without the slightest wave, the blood pool returned to calm and no longer boiled.

The severe pain disappeared, and the desperate fight was rewarded. Some kind of magical power enveloped him, making him feel the ultimate warmth. It was a feeling he had never experienced before, as if he had returned to the mother's womb.

Under the action of some force, the broken heart reassembles little by little, returns, and becomes a whole, a new and unknown thing.

At this moment, he could breathe in the blood, and even see everything outside through the blood. The bright moon, and the phantoms flying in the moonlight.

Some broken pictures and whispers wrapped him, and he heard something whispering in his ear, "After sleep, wake up the sleeping blood queen, eight beasts, born in eight restless nights, the holy nail pierces the sinner flesh and blood, a prayer to the summoned hero."

Whispers sounded from his ears, he raised his head from the sea of ​​blood, and countless bloody hands supported him. Let him get closer and closer to the moon in the sky, he can see the craters all over the planet, and a woman who is covered with a veil but has no facial features. Flying in the moon.

"Light was born of darkness, turned its back on darkness, cursed darkness, was liberated from the long night, and slept in the short days."

The whispering never stopped, and it didn't seem like one person was speaking, but countless people whispering eagerly. The satin-like fingers wrapped Hoffa little by little, binding him tightly, and the huge phantom held him Get up, and fly towards the woman's head little by little.

The distance is getting closer and closer.

Then, he saw a slit in the woman's head without facial features, like a zipper. Behind that slit, there was a bright Milky Way, which made people yearn for it.

He was amazed by the beautiful scenery and the warmth of the envelope, and was fascinated for a moment, letting the flying fingers wrap himself, sending himself into the void in the giant mouth.

"If I were you, I probably wouldn't surrender so easily, and it would be too cheap." Suddenly, another voice said in his ear. This voice is different from those whispers, it is clear, smooth, without any emotion.

Reminded by the voice, Hoffa woke up.

The hazy woman in the moon disappears, and the beautiful starlight disappears.

He could only see his muscles expanding crazily in the pool of blood. Countless flesh thorns grew from every corner of his body. On the flesh thorns grew dense and ferocious human faces. They were howling, suffering, and tearing.

"Damn it!"

He woke up completely, and the inexplicable blood poured into his body along his wound, his bone marrow seemed to be burned, and his blood vessels seemed to be poured with acid. What's more frightening was that in the pool of blood, there was an unknown huge spirit. Power, this strange and unpredictable spiritual force is stronger than he has ever seen before, but if he is slightly contaminated, he will be in danger of being assimilated.

He threw his head back, hitting the marble floor, trying to shake the whispers out of his ears. But to no avail, his self-awareness was fading fast, and would soon become something else.

So he quickly clung to the stone wall, trying to climb out. There was a ripple on the calm blood pool, and Hoffa stretched out his hand. But in less than a second, he was pulled back to the blood pool by unparalleled force, and the blood pool returned to calm again.

However, this time, the brief peace lasted less than ten breaths.

Suddenly, the pool of blood that was like coagulation boiled up.

A gigantic four-winged bird rushed out of the pool of blood, whirling and roaring. It was covered in jelly blood like pitch. Among them, a large amount of blood was splashed.

"In the mortal world, life and death are unpredictable. Even with mighty and powerful wings, it is difficult to move an inch." Countless voices kept ringing in his ears, making him upset.

Thunderbird roared and rushed out of the pool of blood again. His sharp claws firmly grasped the edge of the pool of blood. Countless blood danced wildly behind him, threatening to pull him back into the sea of ​​blood.

In the deep castle, under the quiet and white moonlight.

An extremely strange scene appeared, the blood in the pool of blood condensed into a huge arm, it was like catching a chick, firmly grasping the Thunderbird in its hand, and smashing it with a bang, it was about to subdue him.

"After I stumble, I will take your request!"

The sound became louder and louder, and they crazily devoured Hoffa's body and mind. The more he struggled, the stronger his superhuman strength became. The damage to the hall is getting worse. The exquisite ceiling shattered into pieces, rumbling down, and the delicious food on the dining table was smashed into a pile of mud.

His heart was beating violently, almost jumping out of his chest. Every time his pulse beat, it was as if a new flame was pressed into him, running through his whole body. He twitched helplessly, his head like a ball of agony on the verge of bursting. The hoarse screams echoed throughout the entire castle.

The two forces fell into a stalemate, and Hoffa knew that he would not last long. As long as his strength was exhausted, he would immediately become one of the countless whispering voices. Outside the blood pool, he is facing the threat of physical death, while inside the blood pool, he is facing the crisis of being devoured mentally. In this damn world, who can help me?

He was very anxious.

As if he heard his prayer, at this moment, another voice rang in his ear, "If you can survive nightmares, would you still jump into the pool of blood?" The unknown voice asked again: " If you could only choose between having nightmares and drinking blood at night, what would you choose?"

"I don't choose anything."

"You're going to die." Another voice said calmly, "Bach, no one can help you. There are only two options, either to suck blood from other people every night, or to have nightmares every night."

"If I have to, I'd rather have a nightmare."

The bloody hand didn't move, and after three breaths of calm, it suddenly collapsed, and the entangled blood receded from his body, disappeared into the blood pool, turned into countless red light spots, dissipated and evaporated in the air.

Thunderbird fell down into the dry pool of blood with a thud, shrunk little by little, and turned into a disheveled gray-haired boy.

Slowly, very slowly, the pain subsided little by little, and it felt like a thousand years had passed. He twitched feebly, breathing in desperately through his stinging throat, and it seemed like another millennium had passed before he could barely pull himself up. The muscles all over his body seemed to have turned into water, so he could only use his hands and feet, and finally stood up tremblingly, groping forward staggeringly.

Finally, he climbed out of the pool of blood, and within a few steps, he stepped on a corpse and fell to the ground with a plop. There was darkness in front of his eyes, and it took a long time for the darkness to turn into the pattern of the floor, and his pupils gradually focused.

Everything in front of him became extremely bright, but there were not many colors. He could clearly see the expression on the face of the corpse lying on the ground, he could see every particle of dust floating in the air, and he could even see the Gothic spire in the distance. Above, the pattern of the gargoyle sculpture.

At this moment, the night became as clear as the day, which was a feeling he had never experienced before, as if his eyes had become an infrared night vision camera.

"what happened?"

He looked at the fingerprints on his palm, and he could still vividly remember what happened just now, the phantom in the moon, the whispers in the sea of ​​blood. Everything was so clear, something I had never seen before.

Looking at his chest again, the wound penetrated by Mance has healed at this moment, but it is covered with bright red scars, which are symmetrically distributed on the chest and extend to the shoulders, which are three rings intertwined. The intertwined parts of the rings formed crescents one after another. The pattern is rough and not smooth, as if it was drawn randomly by a primitive man with a branch.

He had seen this pattern before. When the female vampire opened the dungeon, she drew this pattern with blood on the ground.

What does it mean? He could feel some obscure and ancient power in the pattern, but he couldn't describe it.

When I looked up at the moon in the sky again, it had become exactly the same as the moon I usually see. It was neither big nor had any monsters in it. It was just round and hung in the sky, and the ordinary one remained the same for hundreds of thousands of years every day. look the same, no difference.

"are you OK."

At this time, someone asked him in his ear.

The voice is ethereal and unisex, sounding very neutral. It was the voice that reminded me just now in the sea of ​​blood.

"Who are you?"

Hoffa sat up straight suddenly, and there was no living person beside him. The banquet destroyed by Mance was desolate and cruel. But just now in the pool of blood, this voice was asking him some weird questions.

"I'm on your waist."

The voice reminded him.

Startled, Hoffa stretched his hands to his waist. His magic gloves and clothes were melted in the sea of ​​blood, but only one thing remained.

It was a glass ball, a glass ball made of Transfiguration.

Picking up the glass ball, the tentacles danced in the glass ball, and the little tentacle monster I got in the English Channel was flickering in the glass ball quickly.