Under the huge full moon, on the sandy ground of the underground city, another grey-haired youth was also lying on the ground, unable to speak. He could hear someone screaming in a high pitched voice from afar.
"Hoffa!!"
It was the nun's desperate voice.
He tried his best to raise his neck, looking at the sharp blade that came out of his chest, then looking at the wound on Manse's chest that was still bleeding. He stood there as if nothing had happened, but he could feel his life quickly slipping away.
Hoffa's mind was in a daze, he never thought that a muggle with a hole in his chest could still stand in front of him and stab him in the chest with a knife. How did he do it? Even a vampire would not have such tenacious vitality.
"How did you …?" Hoffa had difficulty breathing.
"You want to know?"
Manse pointed at his chest and laughed: "I'm not telling you."
He pulled out the sharp blade and threw the steel spike away. The bloody steel spike rolled on the sand far away. Then, without hesitation, he dragged Chloe who was kneeling and crying on the ground, twisted her neck and forced her to look at Hoffa.
"Look at him, appreciate the state your friend was in when he died. If you still want to save the children, you better meet my expectations quickly. "
Hoffa wanted to say something, but he did not know what he wanted to say. Maybe he wanted to curse him, or maybe he wanted to comfort the nun one last time, but he realized that he could not do anything.
"Let go of me, let go of me …!"
The nun was dragged away by Manse, like a broken sack.
His life was quickly slipping away, and he did not have enough strength to do anything else. He clutched his chest and slid down from the corner of the wall, darkness gradually swallowing his eyes.
The last thing he saw was Manse dragging the nun and the children further and further away, finally disappearing from his sight.
Was he going to die?
He did not see any chance, this was the most serious injury he had ever suffered, and also the closest he had ever been to death. He had completely stepped into the gates of hell. In the dark, he could even see the Grim Reaper smiling at him.
At this moment, a thousand feelings of helplessness flooded his heart.
Everything was for naught, just a little bit more, just a little bit more. He could have sent the nun to London, maybe Fatir could have used her ability to change history, maybe he could still see Aglaia in his life.
Aglaia … Thinking of her, an intense pain burned in Hoffa's body, and he could not help but start moaning. It was an uncontrollable desire to live that erupted from the depths of his heart.
Was he going to die? No, he could not die.
His life was burdened with her expectations. No matter what, he could not die.
However, his heart had already been pierced through. Even if he was in an activated state, he could not heal such a fatal wound. He continued to convert his magic power into life, but the life force was flowing out of his body through the wound.
He lay on the ground, racking his brain to think of a way to survive.
A huge sense of uneasiness drowned him like a sea. His soul was like a candle in the wind, and all he could see was darkness. Only his numb lips could still taste the blood flowing from his heart.
....
She felt the warmth on her lips.
It was the temperature of his blood.
Under the stimulation of this taste, a bold and crazy idea came to his mind. There was one last chance.
He used all of his strength to convert all of his magic power into life. He barely managed to open his eyes and support himself. Struggling at death's door, he dragged himself bit by bit towards the blood pool in the distance.
Finally, he stopped at the edge of the marble pool. He could no longer breathe. He was only a few steps away from death.
Blood dripped from his mouth into the blood pool. He was dizzy and could not do anything.
The moonlight broke through the clouds and shone down from the dome. The boiling blood pool had calmed down. However, after it tasted Hoffa's blood, it boiled again, like an excited organic life.
Then, countless hands made of blood reached out from the blood pool. They grabbed Hoffa's body and pulled him into the center of the pool.
There was a soft splash. There was no splash. The blood pool returned to its calm state and no longer boiled.
The intense pain disappeared. He got his reward for risking his life. Some magical power wrapped around him, making him feel extremely warm. It was a feeling he had never experienced before. It was as if he had returned to his mother's womb.
Under the effect of some power, the broken heart reassembled bit by bit. It returned to a whole, a brand new and unknown thing.
At this moment, he could breathe in the blood. He could even see everything outside through the blood. The bright moon and the shadows dancing in the moonlight.
Some broken scenes and murmurs wrapped around him. He heard something whispering in his ear. "After sleeping, awaken the sleeping Blood Queen. Eight beasts, born in eight restless nights. Holy nails pierced the flesh of sinners. A prayer, dedicated to the summoned hero …"
The whispers sounded in his ear. He looked up from the blood pool. Countless bloody hands held him up. They brought him closer and closer to the moon in the sky. He could see the craters all over the planet. There was also a woman with a veil but no facial features. She was shrouded in a hazy light. Her ten fingers danced on the moon like silk.
"Light was born from darkness, but it turned its back on darkness and cursed it. It was liberated from the long night and slumbered in the short day …"
The whispers never stopped. It did not seem like one person was speaking. It was more like countless people were whispering. The satin-like fingers wrapped around Hoffa bit by bit, binding him tightly. The huge shadow lifted him up and flew towards the woman's head bit by bit.
They were getting closer and closer.
Then, he saw the woman's featureless head crack open like a zipper. Behind the crack was a dazzling galaxy that made people yearn for it.
He was amazed by the beautiful scenery and the warmth of being wrapped up. He was intoxicated for a moment. He allowed the dancing fingers to wrap around him and send him into the void of the huge mouth.
"If I were you, I probably wouldn't submit so easily. It's too degrading." Suddenly, another voice spoke in his ear. This voice was different from the whispers. It was clear, steady, and emotionless.
Hoffa woke up from the voice's reminder.
The hazy woman on the moon disappeared. The beautiful starlight disappeared.
Inside the blood pool, he saw his muscles expanding madly. Countless flesh spikes grew out from every corner of his body. On those flesh spikes, there were tiny and hideous human faces. They were wailing, in pain, and tearing at each other.
"Damn it!"
He was completely awakened. The strange blood flowed into his body through his wounds. His bone marrow felt like it was being burned. His blood vessels felt like they were being poured with acid. What was even more frightening was that there was an unknown and enormous spiritual power in the blood pool. This strange and unpredictable spiritual power was stronger than anything he had ever seen. He was in danger of being assimilated just by touching it.
His head fell back and hit the marble floor. He tried to shake off the whispers in his ear. But it was useless. His self-awareness was quickly disappearing. Soon, it would become something else.
So he quickly climbed up the stone wall and tried to climb out. A ripple appeared on the calm blood pool. Hoffa reached out his hand. But in less than a second, he was pulled back into the blood pool by an unparalleled force. The blood pool returned to its calm state.
But this time, the temporary calm only lasted for less than ten breaths.
Suddenly, the congealed blood pool began to boil.
A huge four-winged bird circled and roared as it rushed out of the blood pool. Its body was covered in asphalt-like gelatinous blood. Before it could fly more than ten meters, it was pulled back into the blood pool. It crashed into it, splashing blood everywhere.
"In the mortal world, life and death are hard to predict. Even the mightiest and most powerful pair of wings can't move an inch …" Countless voices rang in his ears, making him restless and distraught.
The Thunderbird roared and rushed out of the blood pool again. Its sharp claws gripped the edge of the blood pool tightly. Behind it, countless blood danced wildly, trying to pull it back into the blood pool.
In the deep ancient castle, under the tranquil white moonlight.
An extremely strange scene appeared. The blood in the blood pool condensed into a huge arm. It grabbed the Thunderbird tightly in its hand as if it was grabbing a chick. It smashed it wildly, trying to subdue it.
"Stumbling my descendant, I will take your life!"
The voices grew louder and louder. They crazily devoured Hoffa's body and mind. The more he struggled, the stronger the superhuman force became. The destruction of the hall was getting worse. The exquisite ceiling shattered into pieces and fell with a rumble. The delicious food on the table was smashed into a pile of mush.
His heart beat violently, almost jumping out of his chest. Every time his pulse beat, it was like a new flame was being pressed into his body, running through his body. He twitched helplessly. His head was like a ball filled with extreme pain, on the verge of exploding. A hoarse cry echoed throughout the ancient castle.
The two forces were in a stalemate. Hoffa knew that he could not hold on for long. As soon as his strength was exhausted, he would immediately become one of the countless whispers. Outside the blood pool, he was facing the threat of death. Inside the blood pool, he was facing the crisis of his spirit being devoured. In this damn world, who can help me?
He was extremely anxious.
As if hearing his prayer, another voice sounded in his ear. "If you can survive nightmares, will you still jump into the blood pool?" The unknown voice asked again, "If you can only choose between nightmares and sucking blood at night, what will you choose?"
"I will choose neither …"
"You are going to die." Another voice calmly said, "Bach, no one can help you. There are only two choices, either you suck other people's blood every night, or you have nightmares every night. "
"If you must, then I would rather have nightmares."
The bloody hand stopped moving. After three breaths of time, it suddenly collapsed. The blood that wrapped around his body retreated and disappeared into the blood pool. It turned into countless specks of red light that evaporated into the air.
Thunderbird fell into the dry blood pool with a plop. It shrank little by little and turned into a naked gray-haired youth.
Slowly, extremely slowly, the pain faded little by little. It felt like a thousand years had passed. He trembled weakly and desperately inhaled through his stinging throat. It felt like another thousand years had passed before he could barely stand up. His muscles seemed to have turned into water. He could only use his hands and feet to finally stand up shakily and stumble forward.
Finally, he climbed out of the blood pool. After a few steps, he stepped on a corpse and fell to the ground with a plop. It was pitch black in front of his eyes. After a long time, the darkness turned into the lines on the floor. His pupils gradually focused.
Everything in front of him became abnormally bright, but there was not much color. He could clearly see the expression on the face of the corpse lying on the ground. He could see every speck of dust floating in the air. He could even see the patterns of the gargoyle sculpture on the Gothic spire in the distance.
The night became as clear as day at this moment. This was a feeling he had never experienced before. It was as if his eyes had turned into an infrared night vision camera.
"What happened?"
He looked at the fingerprints on his palm. Everything that had just happened was still vivid in his mind. The shadow in the moon, the whispers in the blood sea. Everything was so clear. It was something he had never seen before.
He looked at his chest again. The wound that was penetrated by the Manse had healed, but it was covered with bright red scars. The scars were symmetrically distributed on his chest. They were three intertwined rings. The intertwining of the rings formed a crescent moon. The pattern was rough and not smooth. It was as if a primitive man had casually drawn it with a tree branch.
He had seen this pattern before. When the female vampire opened the underground city, she used blood to draw this pattern on the ground.
What was the meaning of this? He could feel some kind of ancient and obscure power in the pattern, but he could not describe it.
When he raised his head to look at the moon in the sky again, it had become the same as the moon that he usually saw. It was not big, and there were no monsters inside. It was just a round moon hanging in the sky. It was the same as it had been for thousands of years. There was no difference.
"Are you okay?"
At this moment, someone asked him this question.
The voice was ethereal. It was hard to tell whether it was a man or a woman. It sounded very neutral. It was the voice that had reminded him in the blood sea.
"Who are you?"
Hoffa sat up straight. There was no living person beside him, but in the blood pool, it was this voice that had been asking him strange questions.
"I'm on your waist."
The voice reminded him.
Hoffa was shocked. He picked up the glass ball. The tentacles danced inside the glass ball. The small tentacle monster that he had gotten in the English Channel was flickering inside the glass ball.
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