Chapter 209: Chapter 209: This Time, Please Bestow Your Supreme Fallen Blood

Directly beneath the shriveled heart,

stood a square platform forged from some kind of dark, solid-colored material.

At this moment,

aside from the blonde woman from the Vampire Clan, the white-haired elder from before, and Xiao Cangqing,

all the other members were kneeling on the ground, their faces filled with piety and fanaticism as they gazed at the shriveled heart.

The blonde woman grabbed Xiao Cangqing by the back and pushed him all the way to the square platform, then forced him to lie down on its dark surface.

The moment his back touched it, Xiao Cangqing felt a chill like needles stabbing into his spine.

Normally, the Mysterious Power within Xiao Cangqing’s body should have dulled his sense of temperature,

but the cold emanating from this square platform instantly reminded him of the terror he’d felt as a child when he fell into an ice cave.

In an instant, an endless, bone-chilling cold assaulted his body from all directions.

"What is this platform? What are you going to do to me?"

Xiao Cangqing tried to roll over and sit up,

but the platform seemed to possess a strange adhesive force, pulling tightly at his body,

rendering him unable to move, as if he had been nailed down.

A terrible premonition grew stronger in Xiao Cangqing’s heart.

After all this time, Xiao Cangqing no longer feared death, but he did fear a fate worse than death.

Given that they had gone to such great lengths and gathered so many members of the Vampire Clan,

they certainly weren’t just going to execute him casually.

After all, if they had wanted to kill him, they could have done so long ago in that underground cage.

"Young man, you’ll know soon enough. Don’t be impatient."

Under the dim, flickering candlelight,

a chilling smile played on the lips of the hoary-haired elder.

He slowly extended a hand. The back of it was covered in the ravines of time, like ancient tree bark.

His fingertips lightly touched an exquisite wooden box next to him, which was carved with intricate patterns and inlaid with fine gems. The lid opened with a soft click, releasing a faint, musty odor.

He took an ancient knife from the box. Its blade glinted with a cold, faint light,

but that couldn’t hide the dense rust spots covering it, making it look like a relic from the long river of history.

Though the hilt was worn, one could still make out the complex patterns carved upon it,

revealing an ancient, elegant, and solemn European style. In the current situation, however, that solemnity seemed particularly sinister and terrifying.

The blonde woman’s eyes were as cold as ice, her movements swift and sharp.

Without the slightest hesitation, she tore open the clothes on the bound Xiao Cangqing’s upper body.

On his exposed chest, blackish-blue veins writhed like maggots cursed by darkness,

twisting and squirming beneath his pale skin, sometimes surfacing, sometimes vanishing, all while exuding a sinister aura.

These veins seemed to carry some kind of Mysterious Power, enough to make one’s blood run cold.

The elder held the rust-spotted knife, his gaze like a torch, fixed squarely on the location of Xiao Cangqing’s heart,

as if the answer or power he had long craved was hidden there.

With a low roar, he stabbed down violently. The tip of the knife was dull,

but it carried a resolute and overwhelming force as it drove toward the vital point.

However, because the blade was so corroded, the blow wasn’t as clean as one might expect.

It was accompanied by a grating, tearing sound and a sickening spray of rust dust,

only managing to carve a ragged, bloody gash across Xiao Cangqing’s chest.

Xiao Cangqing’s face twisted in pain. His eyes flew wide, veins bulged on his forehead, and a mixture of sweat and tears streamed down his face.

His body trembled violently from the excruciating pain,

but the Mysterious Power held him firmly to the cold platform, rendering him unable to move.

He could only endure this inhuman torture in despair.

The air filled with the thick stench of blood and rust,

mixed with an indescribable sense of fear and despair that made the entire scene all the more terrifying and bizarre.

The elder’s face showed not a hint of pity or hesitation,

only a fanatical pursuit of unknown power and a reckless determination.

He gripped the hilt and dragged it downward, each pull accompanied by an even more piercing scream from Xiao Cangqing.

Blood gushed from the mangled wound like a black river,

flowing slowly through the dim space, adding a touch of tragic and desolate beauty to the cruel ritual.

"If you’re going to kill me, just make it quick. I’m worthless to you anyway, right?

Why torture me like this?"

Xiao Cangqing’s vision blurred and refocused as he stared intently at the shriveled heart hanging directly above his body.

But now, no one paid him any attention.

The blonde woman acted without a shred of hesitation.

Her hands mercilessly tore open the hideous wound on Xiao Cangqing’s chest made by the rusty knife.

The flaps of flesh at the wound’s edge curled back, revealing the deep and complex structures of muscle and tissue beneath, like some maliciously twisted anatomical diagram.

Her fingertips were stained with a strange fluid,

a mixture that was somewhere between fresh red blood and a deep, foul murkiness.

It shone with a sinister luster and gave off a nauseating stench.

The blonde woman remained expressionless, her focus calm and absolute as she cupped the still-faintly-beating heart.

The moment it was freed from its constraints, the heart seemed to make one last struggle,

each beat accompanied by an even greater surge of pain and despair from Xiao Cangqing.

She ruthlessly pulled it from his chest cavity.

A sharp, cruel tearing sound followed—the lament of a life thread being mercilessly snapped.

In that same heart-stopping moment, an astonishing change came over the white-haired elder.

He suddenly straightened his back, filled by an invisible power, and his entire aura instantly became cold and terrifying.

Even more horrifying, a pair of enormous, blood-colored wings slowly unfurled from his back.

The wings were a dark crimson, like a night sky soaked in blood, and were covered in nauseating, rotting holes.

Despite their utterly hideous appearance, the wings radiated an indescribable aura of cold and terror.

They beat softly against the air, stirring up unnerving whirlwinds.

The elder’s eyes glinted with fanaticism. He flapped his wings and rose lightly into the air, like a Demon returned from Hell.

He flew toward the shriveled heart hanging above.

As he did, he chanted, "O great Ancestor, please bestow your supreme, fallen blood this time. Return to this world and descend upon all your descendants."

Muttering, he firmly cupped the shriveled, unresponsive heart and slowly descended.

Now heartless, Xiao Cangqing’s vision grew increasingly blurry.

He tried his best to see what was happening, but no matter how strong his will, no matter how he strained, he could no longer manage it.

Without a heart, Xiao Cangqing had lost his own Life Force.

His body would soon be possessed by an Evil Spirit and transform into a new monster.

The body would still be his body, but it would no longer be Xiao Cangqing.

’To think I’d die so ignominiously...’

Xiao Cangqing forced his eyes wide, an indignant fire burning within them.

He had thought he could surpass Chu He and become the number one powerhouse on Blue Star, the National Guardian War God of the Great Jing Empire, basking in supreme glory and worshipped by countless people wherever he went.

But dreams are beautiful, and reality is cruel.

If Xiao Cangqing truly died here, it was likely no one would ever know.

The world had probably already forgotten him. The people of the Great Jing Empire might even grit their teeth and curse his name if it was ever mentioned.

"I won’t accept this!" Xiao Cangqing’s voice was a barely audible whisper.