Don't confiscate my identity as a human race-Chapter 1361 - 836: Lanci’s Hell Siege Battle_8

In the depths beneath the Cerryti Empire, hidden away and forgotten by time, there lies an ancient palace. Only the subtle Blood Clan Authority sheds a hazy crimson moonlight over this mist-shrouded space.

This was the center of power buried deep below the surface.

Before they could take the initiative to barge in—

Suddenly, a burst of red light engulfed them, the piercing scarlet illuminating every face in the darkness.

"They're here."

Before Lanci could finish speaking, the spatial gravitational pull from a mystical barrier appeared out of thin air. Brilliant blood-red light and deafening roars erupted, swallowing them whole.

This was the Blood Moon City's summoning—a phenomenon Lanci had experienced multiple times!

The Blood Clan chose to pull them inside proactively rather than risk infiltration, thus seizing the tactical advantage to engage them in battle!

A wave of gravity struck, and the entire group plummeted violently downward!

The twisted, deformed space alternately stretched and compressed, a howling wind screaming in their ears, as though millions of vengeful spirits were snarling and roaring.

...

At the heart of Blood Moon City.

The castle loomed, its obsidian walls shimmering with a cold radiance.

The grand hall of the Blood King Palace was chilly and dim, the candle flames on the dome above replacing any real light.

In the prominent central hall, dominated by the banquet table, sat thirteen high-backed chairs on either side, each adorned with crimson gemstone insignias symbolizing their owners.

"They have indeed come."

Marquis Heratier sat in the seventh chair, her ten fingers resting flatly on her legs, her eyes tightly shut, still as stone.

At this moment, only three figures were in the Blood King Palace.

And her adversaries were not members of the Blood Clan.

They all appeared calm and unhurried. The Withered Bishop Nedoqika was playing chess with Heratier.

Behind the Withered Bishop stood a tall man with purple eyes.

"Who would have thought the Duchess could assemble so many allies. Unbelievable."

The Withered Bishop Nedoqika dropped her chess piece and murmured in surprise.

She looked astonished, though not in the least anxious.

The Seventh Ancestor Marquess Helitier listened to Nedoqika's words and merely glanced at the chessboard.

The single candle failed to illuminate Heratier; instead, it cast her image as pitch-black, leaving only the tear mole beneath her eyes clearly visible.

"It seems everything is going according to your plan."

Heratier knew Nedoqika had subtly orchestrated the sacrifice of the Saint of Decay, intentionally leaking the Corrosion Branch's involvement in the conflict to the anticipated adversaries.

But the Withered Branch had never revealed any trace within Brilda.

Deliberately selling their enemies false information would mislead them into thinking the Corrosion Branch was the Blood Clan's sole ally.

At this moment, should the Withered Branch enter the fray, it would cause a devastating imbalance of power.

Not to mention the looming return of the other Ancestors.

"Alright, I must head to my battleground now. I hope I'm assigned an opponent who isn't too strong—after all, I'm not particularly skilled in direct combat."

The Withered Bishop Nedoqika reluctantly gazed at the unfinished chess game on the long table before rising.

The Seventh Ancestor Marquess Heratier must already be orchestrating the perfect descent of the invaders into the "most suitable" battlefield.

And Nedoqika was now destined to head there to face her assigned foe.

"Don't worry. Against your opponent in the Ice Stagnation Palace, your odds of failure are precisely zero."

Heratier spoke.

"Quite exaggerated, isn't it? I'm hardly that formidable."

The Withered Bishop Nedoqika laughed, her voice light and melodic like silver bells.

As she passed by the tall man, she gently patted his arm.

"Saint Heir, go hunt your enemies. Prove your strength to me, and you'll be one step closer to your ultimate goal—'arresting me.'"

She spoke provocatively to Colonel McCree, commander of the Capital Garrison Headquarters, who was also her Saint Heir.

"..."

The gray-haired, purple-eyed young man said nothing, merely turning as his sunglasses cast a shadow. Slowly, his form faded into the darkness.

...

In the void, brilliant and crimson lights sparkled, transforming into a twisted, surreal world.

High above Blood Moon City, countless silver birds unfolded their wings, fluttering in all directions—these mechanical messengers belonged to Abigail. They could relay panoramic imagery of Blood Moon City to her, allowing Abigail to share the latest updates with other members through communication devices.

The surrounding scenery raced upward at incredible speed, as kaleidoscopic colors suddenly emerged in the once pitch-black void, rotating and shifting in dazzling patterns.

Wooden cottages interwove with castle-like stone walls; buildings fused like cubes in the night sky, turning upside down and skewed, defying all laws of gravity.

"Brother!"

Tolyado's voice pierced through the rushing wind sharply, clutching Lanci's shoulder as he struggled to resist the Blood Moon City's guiding mechanism with spatial magic.

He had deliberately stayed close to Lanci, the nearest Great Demon Clan member, while others had already vanished without a trace.

"Are you ready?!"

Tolyado asked Lanci.

The Blood Clan Ancestors had dispersed their adversaries to maximize the defensive advantage of Blood Moon City—sending each enemy to the home-ground of a more fitting foe to be defeated one by one.

The mastermind behind this plan was the Seventh Ancestor, Heratier.

As the Blood Race Astrologer, she meticulously matched the Great Demon Clan invaders to different minor halls within Blood Moon City, where Blood Clan Marquises awaited combat.

The safest entrance to the Blood Moon City lay in the west side; its center housed the Blood King Palace, while the eastern, southern, and northern corridors were ruled by Blood Clan Marquises across divided halls.

Upon arriving, Tolyado had ensured Abigail, the spatial mechanical engineer, stayed at the western entrance to establish a camp, leaving Hyperion and Barton behind to guard her—the safest location to also protect Hyperion.

"No problem. I've defeated Rashal three times out of four; I'll win again this time."