Blood Holy Scripture: True Ancestor Charlotte de Castel-Chapter 498: -26- The Sliding Kneeling Demon Bloodline

God!

A god descended to the mortal world!

As Albrecht gazed at the figure that appeared and vanished atop the high platform, he felt the hair on his skin stand on end, and even the demonic tail behind him exploded in a frenzy in an instant.

As a legend who had lived for over two thousand years, Albrecht had encountered many myths throughout the long years.

Although the figure on the platform did not exude an overwhelmingly powerful aura, nor radiate the supreme divine might like the myths he remembered, the moment he set eyes on the figure, his entire soul and body couldn’t help trembling.

He could sense that kind of suppression originating from his bloodline.

When his eyes met through the swirling mists, all the magic power within him slowed and stiffened instantly.

It was the natural intimidation of a higher life form over a lower one...

And for Albrecht, a legendary demon of the Bloodline standing at the pinnacle of transcendence, the only being higher than him was God!

Furthermore, with the insignia of the Holy Emblem that had spread throughout the Blood Demon Church, the identity of the other party was almost confirmed.

The God of the Dark Night...

The figure was, indeed, the God of the Dark Night!

After realizing this, Albrecht felt an unprecedented sense of mortal danger flooding his mind, an anxiety not even the wrath of the Blood Demon Duke for his wartime laziness had ever invoked.

Not without reason, for this was a mythical being who harbored hostility towards the Blood Demon Church.

By now, he was almost completely certain that the one who had forcefully summoned and exposed him to the Holy Royal Court in Lutecia was probably this deity!

The newcomer... bore ill intent!

Albrecht was overwhelmed with fear, his brain whirring rapidly as he thought of ways to escape.

At the same time, he struggled to redirect his sluggish magic power and strove to activate his bloodline power to the greatest extent possible, maintaining calm and preparing to trigger the secret technique for teleporting and make a desperate escape once again.

However, as he tried to arouse his bloodline power, something even more horrifying occurred...

Albrecht, to his horror, discovered that the bloodline power within him suddenly became lively and vigorous, foreign and resistant!

As if it possessed its own life, his bloodline power even began to struggle as if attempting to break free from his control.

That feeling... it was as if his bloodline power had found its true home, longing to leave him and return to the embrace of its mother!

Feeling the changes in his bloodline power, Albrecht’s eyes widened in shock.

He looked again towards the figure on the high platform, his expression growing increasingly incredulous.

He was not unfamiliar with this stirring of bloodline; in the distant past, he too had felt it.

That was two thousand years ago, in a time brimming with myths and when the Bloodline had not yet split...

Crimson mist swirled enticingly, the figure upon the throne ever more majestic.

The surroundings became gradually clearer, the strong sense of déjà vu and familiarity rising to the surface.

And as that familiarity combined with the agitation of the bloodline, ancient memories began to spread swiftly, and the present throne, the present castle, started to slowly merge with scenes from those ancient memories...

It was also a majestic and solemn castle.

Majestic murals depicted the rise of the Bloodline, with princes of the Six Great Clans and many dukes kneeling on one knee, worshipping the supreme Blood Throne.

Above the throne, an ancient god with an indistinct face looked down from on high, his apathetic gaze viewing the many Bloodline members as if they were mere ants.

As memory and reality converged, the figure shrouded in crimson mist gained clarity.

And at last, the visage of the ancient deity from Albrecht’s memory, like rocks revealed by the retreating tide, gradually became clear.

Silver hair, a face both delicate and dreamlike, skin so pale it seemed almost translucent, and those crimson-gold eyes that seemed to pierce through the Star Sea and time itself...

The face merged with the figure upon the throne at that moment, enveloped by mist yet distinguishable as one and the same.

And in those blurred memories, the carved patterns upon the throne also came into focus.

One was thorny,

One was a rose.

The two intertwined with each other, inner and outer sides forming a mysterious and beautiful Holy Emblem!

With his memories clear, the last trace of color drained from Albrecht’s face.

His eyes widened further.

His whole body shook, his mouth agape with shock, his heart unleashing a surging tidal wave of emotions...

God oh God!

When exactly had he forgotten those memories that should never have been forgotten?

Damn it, God of the Dark Night!

The thorny rose wasn’t a symbol that had only emerged in recent times, nor was it the Holy Emblem of the so-called God of the Dark Night!

It was the origin of the Bloodline, the most ancient True Ancestor, the source of all bloodline power, the emblem of the Blood Ancestor!

The "God of the Dark Night" was not some resurrected Bloodline Demigod; He was the supreme of the Bloodline, the Monarch of the Eternal Night, the creator of the Bloodline who had swept across the world, the Blood Ancestor!

He... He was the Blood True Ancestor!

He had returned!

Albrecht’s face was filled with shock and astonishment, fear, and unease, even as his left hand clutched his wound and his legs began to tremble.

However, that visage of terror and amazement was quickly replaced by fluctuating expressions.

Fear and astonishment swiftly withdrew, replaced by admiration and excitement.

Although that admiration and excitement seemed a bit too deliberate, the expression quite stiff, Albrecht adjusted swiftly.

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