Don't confiscate my identity as a human race-Chapter 1146 787: Lanci Listens Intently to the Wailing of the Blood Clan_7

The flames began to scorch the Holy Polante Pope.

"You few, don't just stand there, come and entertain our guest together."

Third Ancestor Duke Rashar turned his head, casting a meaningful look towards the skyline, a smirk on his face, as he called out to several silhouettes emerging from the blood mist at the edge of Blood King Palace Square.

At this moment, the Holy Polante Pope hadn't even had time to react.

"Die, Pope!"

All he saw in his field of view was a new figure suddenly appearing in front of him.

The figure's eyebrows were tightly knit, and a provocative smile forced through his lips as his military uniform burst open from the surge of power.

His right hand thrust forward violently, striking almost directly at the cheek of the Holy Polante Pope.

When the explosive sound echoed through the Blood King Palace, dust scattered and the figure of the Holy Polante Pope flickered, narrowly avoiding the blow.

He looked in disarray, but in reality, not a speck of dust touched the hem of his clothes.

Before he could completely steady himself, the faint scent of a woman's fragrance wafted through the air.

"Don't be careless, Somerset, even though he has just fallen from the Ninth-order, you're still no match for him."

The cool young woman's voice came from within the blood mist, dressed in a deep purple gauze gown, she appeared in Blood King Palace,

"Four years ago, not long after he reached the Ninth-order, he sealed both Prince Salvatore, the Second Progenitor, and Duke Mordigai, the Fifth Progenitor. It was then that we decided to stop provoking him."

She closed her eyes tightly, her eyelashes casting a shadow in the firelight, making the mole under her eye all the more prominent.

Seventh Ancestor Marquess Helitier reminded Marquis Sommerst, the Eighth Progenitor.

At her appearance, the magic strength of Duke Rashar, the Third Ancestor, and Marquis Somerset, the Eighth Progenitor, began to climb.

"We show him mercy and a dignified end, but that does not mean he can come to Blood Moon City and provoke us."

Before the battle could begin, another voice lingered,

"Pope, you look quite delicious."

The blood mist coalesced into Ninth Progenitor Marquis Bainhardt, dressed in an ivory silk shirt with a black velvet vest over it, tied with an emerald green bow at the collar, his golden-brown curls loosely hanging over his forehead, slightly obscuring those red eyes.

He walked towards the Holy Polante Pope with a smile, revealing a set of tidy white teeth, respectfully like a gentleman inviting a guest to be seated.

Seventh Ancestor Helitier's divination was not the slightest bit off.

The Pope might only have a day or two left to live; perhaps he discovered something and, in a fit of rage, came alone to Saint Trier.

The four Progenitors glanced at each other from afar, all looking down upon Lanci.

"Why does His Holiness the Pope look so calm? Have you realized what your fate will be next?"

Third Ancestor Duke Rashar asked through the air.

"No, I'm just very happy that you all came to see me with such enthusiasm."

Lanci, his expression hidden behind a silver-white mask, clasped his hands behind his back, slightly lifting his head as he spoke.

"I've got to say, I don't quite understand the impulse that drove you to come alone to Blood Moon City. It was indeed a foolish move."

Ninth Progenitor Marquis Bainhardt walked around Blood King Palace Square. The Blood Clan scholar seemed most interested in having a chat with the Pope,

"You could have either launched total chaos to see the civilians of the Honing Empire engulfed in war, or you could have continued as the Holy Polante Pope and died a natural death in a peaceful golden age. Both were clearly good choices..."

He analyzed for the Pope like a strategist.

Unfortunately, humans have an emotion, the more of a hero they are, the more prone they are to impulsiveness in their twilight years, even the Holy Polante Pope can make such mistakes late in life.

"So what do you think would be better for me to do?"

Lanci asked, clearly intrigued.

He didn't mind taking a closer look at the inside of Blood Moon City.

"Heh heh heh."

Ninth Progenitor Marquis Bainhardt shook his head with a light chuckle,

"As for my suggestion, we'll have to wait and see!"

Suddenly, a red halo lit up around the Ninth Progenitor, magic power churned violently within him, and in the blink of an eye, it became uncontrollably wild.

Countless crimson eyeballs condensed out of his body, covering him from head to toe, staring greedily and ferociously at the Pope in front of him.

These eyeballs belonged to special enemies that Bainhardt had once devoured. The talents of those pitiable creatures with great gifts had been stripped away by him and now became Marquis Bainhardt's terrifying weapons.

As magic surged, the once handsome gentleman's features began to warp and distort, his facial features engulfed by the numerous cramming eyeballs.

Ninth Progenitor Marquis Bainhardt was no longer recognizable as human; he bared his sharp teeth, and laughing, rushed crazily towards the Pope.

The pairs of eyeballs glimmered with a starving red light, aiming to devour everything before them.

Foll𝑜w current novels on fɾēewebnσveℓ.com.

The Pope, already weakened to this extent, had enough just dying here in their hands!

"What's the hurry."

Third Ancestor Duke Rashar also laughed.

He knew Bainhardt was too eager to nibble on the Holy Polante Pope.

However.

The Pope, hidden behind the silver mask, simply raised his arm and struck at the Ninth Progenitor charging towards him.

Air pressure and explosions scattered in all directions.

The pupils of the other three Progenitors tightened abruptly.

Reflected in their blood-colored pupils was the broken mottled color of scattering stars.

The Ninth Progenitor Bainhardt was shattered into blood mist by the slap of the Pope!

"How is this possible... How could he be so strong...?"

The hoarse tremble in the voice of the Ninth Progenitor Marquis Bainhardt, his split head reassembling.

But before he could solidify, crisscrossing rocks fused together, completely sealing him.

The Chimera Stone Pillar was pressed to the ground by Lanci with one hand.

The remaining Progenitors were all stunned.

According to their intelligence and divination.

Everything indicated that the Pope should now be weakened to the point where they could defeat him.

But at this moment.

This terrifying man in white robes.

Smashing the Ninth Progenitor as effortlessly as swatting a mosquito.

Defeat him...?

What a joke!

Was this monster something a Blood Clan could fight against?!

If they could entertain him even a little bit, that would be great enough!!