chsdbacks Chapter 125 Blood Dance
Chapter 125 Blood Dance
East City, Duke of Blazing Flame's Mansion, Top Floor Observation Deck.
The huge floor-to-ceiling crystal windows were open, and the evening breeze, carrying the subtle scent of late summer and early autumn, blew into the hall, stirring the scarlet velvet curtains.
There were no lights in the hall, only the clear light from the two bright moons in the sky, which illuminated the marble floor with a pure white glow.
The Duke of Frederick is dancing.
He wore a form-fitting deep red velvet tuxedo, which made his long red hair even more striking.
Golden eyes gleamed in the moonlight, focused and joyful.
His dance steps were light and elegant, and his demeanor was charming and alluring.
The court dances, with their certain rhythm, were so free and expressive.
On his feet were a pair of brand-new leather boots that gleamed with an eerie red sheen in the moonlight.
Small and exquisite, the upper even has the delicate texture of a child's skin.
The soles of his boots tapped the ground, making soft "tap, tap" sounds that perfectly matched the rhythm of his hand movements.
He was holding a small drum in his hands.
The drum appears to be made of some kind of dark wood and is carved with intricate flame patterns.
The drumhead is taut, exhibiting an extremely delicate, almost life-like, membrane-like texture.
Under the moonlight, the membrane faintly shone with a pale gold hue, as if it had been infused with fragments of sunlight.
"Tap...tap...thump..."
The leather boots tap lightly, the fingers tap.
The Duke closed his eyes slightly, immersed in the rhythm of his dance steps and the drumbeats, a satisfied smile on his lips.
"His Excellency is in high spirits tonight."
In the shadows of the corner of the hall, a middle-aged man dressed as a butler with his hair neatly combed was whispering compliments.
His eyes were also gold, only much dimmer.
"Hmm." Frederick didn't stop dancing, his fingertips brushing across the drumhead, feeling its amazing suppleness and delicacy.
"The materials used this time are indeed of superior quality, especially this drum..."
He tapped the drum gently; the sound was not loud, but exceptionally clear and melodious, carrying a strange resonance that seemed to cleanse the soul.
"It is your skill that is superb, Your Grace." The butler bowed.
"The materials used this time are all rare, pure carriers that have been found in recent years."
"Of course, without your personal purification and processing, and the nurturing of its impurities with the blazing sun, such a perfect collection could not have been created."
The Duke let out a low laugh, his dance steps swirling, his red boots drawing dark red arcs in the moonlight.
"Only a pure soul can carry the most beautiful art."
"The filth and fear of those common people have finally faded away after a month of purification by holy flames, leaving only the most primal... beauty."
He stopped dancing, looked down at the boots on his feet, and then lovingly stroked the human skin drum in his arms.
"But this drum seems to still harbor a faint obsession with someone... Interesting."
"However, it will soon be completely erased and become part of pure beauty."
Just then, a series of slightly hurried footsteps came from outside the door.
A guard clad in armor with a fiery emblem appeared at the doorway and knelt on one knee: "Your Grace!"
Frederick frowned slightly, seemingly annoyed at being interrupted: "What is it?"
"Many strange phenomena have appeared inside and outside the city!" The guard's voice was tense.
"In the slums of the west city, the phantom of an ancient tree appears, singing! In the market of the east city, a spring of clear water inexplicably springs forth, and whispers seem to emanate from its depths! Many wild beasts howl and kneel in the direction of the new city! The hearts of the people within the city are restless, all discussing the 'Two Moons,' the 'Prophet,' and the 'Proverbs'!"
"besides……"
"The patrol found this inside the belly of a giant fish they caught in the moat!"
The guard presented a damp, coarse cloth with both hands.
The butler stepped forward, took the strip of cloth, unfolded it, his expression changed slightly, and quickly presented it to the Duke.
Frederick took the strip of cloth.
My gaze fell on the line of words that looked as if they were written in blood.
Two moons in the sky at the same time signify that the prophet has been ordained by Heaven to punish injustice.
His pupils suddenly contracted.
The languidness and pleasure in his golden eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a sharp scrutiny.
He suddenly turned his head and looked out the window at the sky.
Two bright moons hung quietly high in the sky, shining brightly on each other.
So clear, so...unquestionable.
"Ancient trees sing, wild beasts pay homage, and celestial scriptures appear in the belly of fish..."
"Druid nature spells can probably do that..."
Frederick's fingers unconsciously traced the rough edge of the cloth strip as he muttered to himself.
"But these two moons shine in the same sky..."
This is a manifestation of the laws of the stars, which cannot be faked by human power.
He was silent for a moment, then his proud smile, now tinged with a hint of solemnity, reappeared on his face.
"Ha...a prophet? By divine mandate?"
"It seems our neighbor is more interesting, and also more...troublesome, than we imagined."
He chuckled, but his eyes no longer held a hint of ease.
"Your Grace, should we increase security? Or perhaps we should contact the capital..." the butler asked cautiously.
"No need," Frederick waved his hand, his gaze becoming deep and confident.
He paused, a wisp of golden flame appeared at his fingertips, and with a gentle flick, he burned the strip of cloth to ashes.
"I'll see what right this prophet has to seek justice from me."
------
Meanwhile, deep underground in the Tulip Manor of Hanxi City.
The pale white magical light illuminated everything in minute detail, yet also cast a deathly, pale glow upon it.
The air was thick with the smell of preservatives, mixed with a hint of rusty, sweet, and fishy odor.
Duke Gregory Tulip was standing in front of an operating table covered with a white waterproof sheet.
He wore an immaculate white research robe, his long, smooth, emerald-green hair tied back, revealing a smooth forehead and a pair of emerald-green eyes like the finest jade.
His expression was calm, even with a scholarly focus.
On the operating table, a human body was immobilized, still twitching slightly*.
He was a middle-aged man, dressed in rags, his body covered with scars of varying ages.
His eyes were wide open, filled with indescribable fear and pain, and his mouth was agape, only able to let out a series of gasping sounds.
His vocal cords had been precisely and gracefully severed by the Duke with a long, sharp scalpel just minutes earlier.
"Life is truly wondrous," Gregory murmured to himself, the scalpel in his hand moving smoothly along the pre-drawn markings, avoiding major blood vessels, separating the skin and fascia.
"Different individuals, different states, the activity, resilience, and affinity for magic of their organs... all have subtle differences."
"The accumulation of this basic data is essential for the further optimization of the Abundance Divine Art."
His movements were so steady that there wasn't a tremor, as if he were not cutting a living person, but handling an ordinary experimental material.
The man's body convulsed violently, and his pupils dilated.
"Noisy." Gregory frowned slightly, and without turning his head, he stretched out his left hand, a flash of green light at his fingertips.
A thin thorn appeared out of nowhere and instantly pierced the man's throat.
The "hoho" sound stopped abruptly, leaving only a faint, unconscious tremor in the body.
Silence returned to the cellar, broken only by the faint sound of a knife cutting through tissue and the rhythmic dripping of some liquid into a container.
I don't know how much time passed.
On the operating table, only some organs and tissues, neatly arranged and placed in special containers, remained, along with an empty body that remained open in a terrified posture.
Gregory took off his gloves and threw them into the disinfectant solution beside him.
He walked to the sink next to him and carefully washed each of his fingers, his emerald green eyes gazing at the night sky through the crystal window.
Two moons in the same sky?
An interesting and unusual sight.
"Abundance?" he murmured the name of his family lineage, a cold and rational smile curving his lips.
"What constitutes abundance? Is it increased crop yields? Livestock breeding? Or... the optimization and exploration of the form and potential of life itself?"
"Your Grace." An assistant in a gray robe appeared silently in the doorway and reported with his head bowed.
"There have been disturbances in many parts of the city. Some poor people and slaves, incited by the Prophet's Word, are attempting to riot under the leadership of some who claim to be members of the Prophet's cult. The leader seems to be called... Old Jack."
"The garrison has gone to suppress the rebellion."
"Old Jack?" Gregory dried his hands, picked up a glass of blood-red wine, and gently swirled it.
"Oh, that old man who always spreads ridiculous hopes among the lower classes?"
"Proverbs... Two moons in the sky... A prophet of nature?"
He took a sip of wine, his gaze falling on the two bright moons in the sky, a hint of interest flashing in his emerald eyes.
"That's really interesting." He put down his glass.
"I thought the Blackthorn Territory was just a minor skirmish, but I didn't expect... it actually attracted something decent."
"To be sent by Heaven to punish injustice? Is this an attempt to make an enemy of all the nobles?"
He chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the cold basement, sending chills down one's spine.
"Perfect."
"The stock of experimental subjects has been depleted rather quickly lately."
"New material with promise seems like good material."
Gregory turned and took a dark green velvet cloak from the hanger, draping it elegantly over his shoulders.
"Let's go."
"Let us go and meet the messenger of this prophet."
He pushed open the cellar door and walked up the spiral staircase, his footsteps echoing clearly on the stone steps.