Chapter 248 The Blood Flag of Purging Sin
This is crazy. Lilia Ander MacNeill thought, staring again at the bloodstain on the carpet.
Yes, during last night’s enjoyment, she personally let the slave’s blood soak along the curtains and soak the carpet. The feeling of stepping on the blood with her bare feet, combined with a pinch of the latest inhalant, could always make her temporarily stop. Break away from the fear and fascination with reality and sublimate into a tranquility higher than hedonism.
For a moment, she almost thought she had regained control of the small world in her hands. She groaned in distress, silently reciting the names of her ancestors, and drew a sense of inspiration from the noble status of her bloodline. An arrogant joy. Although within a few hours she immediately fell back into the depths of exhausted frustration.
Maybe she should go to the wizarding arena to watch a feast of fighting skills, she thought, and regain her own vitality in the feast.
She needed to watch the extreme despair of the human slaves when their last hope of escape was destroyed by the martial arts of the wizard; and since the crazy Konrad Curze started his hunting, Lilia Ander had rarely been in Africa. Go out for fun if necessary.
She stared at the blood stains and blinked slowly, as if staring at a field... Ah, she suddenly forgot the original metaphor. She recalled painfully and continued her intermittent thinking. It's like staring at a pool of pink clouds, flowing floral juices, spreading in sweet hallucinations.
Conrad Coates, Conrad Coates... How dare he be so provocative and offend the Eternal City in this way? How could Comoros tolerate his destruction of order and allow itself to fall on the verge of disconnection and division?
This great port city just allowed a howling savage lunatic to leap on the top of every spire to hunt down the defenders of order?
It’s so crazy.
She almost heard the creaking of the bridge cables of one spire after another, the port connection claws that received ships, and even the connection between the entire city and the Webway, amid the crazy actions of Konrad Curze and his partners. Every break of the chain provoked her fragile nerves.
Every day, every day since the Haemonculi was hung on the black sun, a new Eldar, skinned but still panting, will appear incompletely in front of the black sun. Center, together with the troupe's never-ending singing and dancing in the center of the steeple platform, brutally awakens the entire dark city.
The Church of the Sun was proven to have lost control of the black sun they owned, and batches of airships, motorcycles and skyboards were buried on the edge of the spire. The pied blood relatives who preach the apocalypse use the blood of the Eldar and the intact pale skin to weave curtains and tents for performances.
Damn it, they should all be captured by the hungry Chaos, instead of continuing to hide in the shelter of Commorragh and disrupt the well-functioning world!
Lilia Ander raised her hand and hooked the drawstring, closing the incense burner used to evaporate narcotics, dispelling the strong smell of incense. Something was bothering her, not from inner anxiety, but from the warning sent to her by the edge of her sensitive perception.
She sat up and examined the furnishings in the room suspiciously, and seemed to hear soft singing in a trance. She tapped the incense burner again in annoyance to confirm that it was indeed closed.
Lilia Ander saw her dark purple armor hanging on the wall, which made her feel a lot better. She regained her confident face, pressed the bell, and notified the servant to bring her morning meals as usual.
The moment she realized that there was no response to the ringing, her heart instantly fell into a hole that was much colder than the shadow realm of Elindrach.
She stood up and walked barefoot on the carpet. The cooled, solidified blood turned into a stinging substance that stung the soles of her feet. Lilia Ander kept thinking, calculating, predicting, and leaving the dressing movements to her skilled body.
If it were her turn today, what advantages would she have over those dead idiots that would help her survive? Secret passage? Protection? fighting? No, a large family that has been passed down for several generations cannot stop the group of lunatics who assassinate everywhere. None of the beheaders in Mandela are as good at murder as Conrad Coates.
Why on earth did he please the muse Shameish? She complained to cover up her anxiety.
The music sounded again, and she seemed to hear strings reverberating in her ears. Light and light, disappear quietly. Lilia Ander's hands grabbed the leg armor of the purple helmet and put the armor on herself piece by piece, but stopped just before putting on the helmet.
There is no way she can defeat the Bloody Marquis. Lilia Ander knew this.
Maybe there is a choice...
The Eldar went to the bathroom and rinsed his face directly with ice-cold water, as well as the blood stains left on his body, making the difficult choice of mind even more drenched by the cold water. wide awake.
She still flinched. She didn't want to give up her existing power and prestige. Maybe there were other ways to deal with the terrifying Bloody Hunter and his Secret Society of Bloodlings, which had countless flesh and blood artists joining it...
She heard singing for the third time in the water, this time the sound was clearer. Frivolous and cheerful, cold and vicious, "Countess", the voice penetrated into her skull, "Lady Lilia Ander...the invitation has been sent to..."
Lilia Ander suddenly stepped back, her back Hitting the tiles, looking around in panic.
The smell of spices wafted into the bathroom, and in the reflection of the water flowing into the ditch, she saw a miniature dead body with its skin peeled off, hanging on the top of the steeple, wailing endlessly. She didn't need to look any further, that ugly face could only be hers.
You win, she thought desperately, swallowing the nausea and fear in her throat, resisting the thought of nausea, ignoring a ray of excitement hidden at the bottom of her mind, warning herself that she must make a choice.
If Konrad Curze and his companions wanted to seek higher status, sooner or later they would need companions.
She shakily turned off the water, and as she exhaled her second breath, Lilia Ander MacNeil had chosen the new ruler she would serve.
What is the name of that conspiracy? Black-hearted conspiracy? Okay, okay - it's not a bad name, even if it doesn't have the noble taste that the Eldar should have...
She found a bottle of strong wine and drank two glasses casually, stabilizing her state. She then began to take off the purple helmet with the phase shield generator attached to it, and rewrapped her pale body in the least threatening dress she could find.
The Eldar female noble left the bedroom.
Overnight, the hall became extremely empty, and the carnival in the past seemed to be nothing more than a false phantom. The noisy noise made by her slaves, guards and jesters for her was swept away. The hanging gauze and curtains fell into silence in the windless environment.
Some subtle rubbing sounds, accompanied by the deep sound of burning spices, penetrated the gauze and echoed in the empty corridor. As her legs and feet moved, they caused the fabric of her robe to rub against each other.
She mustered up the courage to turn a blind eye to the hidden tunnels as she passed them. There is only one thing she has to do - to reach out to Conrad Curze before the claws of doom break her neck...
The word is unspeakable, but she will do it.
She would kneel to Conrad Coates and wait, waiting for the day when the wind would turn. And she couldn't really say that she wasn't looking forward to the moment when she fell to her knees.
As she passed by her collection of skulls, the singing came again. She stood horrified in the corridor of skulls she had carefully arranged, and even deep panic could not suppress her morbid curiosity.
Every skull that she carefully selected and arranged carefully focused their empty eye sockets at the end of the corridor. The fabric of reality seemed to be pulsing under the heat of incense at the end of the corridor, while overlapping songs were chanted by numerous skulls.
She shook her head violently, the singing disappeared again, and the skulls on both sides of the corridor looked at each other again.
In the rich incense, Lilia Ande smelled another familiar smell. She took a step back, then ran forward, chasing the smell of rust. Her heart was beating hard. At the end of the corridor, in the flickering candlelight, she could already see the blood seeping into the corridor and the colorful figures moving around.
In fact, her heart gradually fell. She was finally able to confirm that what she was about to face was indeed those fanatical doomsday propagandists and the irrational midnight ghost Conrad Coates.
"I'm Lilia Ander..." She spat, clearing the dryness in her throat, hoping her voice didn't sound too much like an uncontrollable scream, "I'm Lilia Ander, McNeil Heir of the clan! I don’t want to be hostile to you!”
She received a silence. In the hall at the end of the long corridor, some cutting sounds are extending.
The noblewoman walked through the corridor of skulls and entered her pleasure hall. Her pupils tightened because of the severe damage to her gorgeous hall by this group of damn relatives.
The skinned flesh and blood bodies were piled up in expensive fur rugs found only in a few secondary planes, completely destroying her years of collection with blood and body fluids. And those skins that could barely recognize the images of the staff and soldiers before they were born were trapped on the half-fallen turquoise and diamond chandelier by crude cheap silk, hanging and rotating slowly.
In the gaps in the Flesh Forest, the Pied Eldar were busy passing tools to each other, adjusting the height of the slings, and fixing the body of the corpse to better peel off each piece of leather completely. They are so busy that they have no time to perform their favorite songs and dances, which is rare among these clever and crazy creatures.
"I'm here." The noble tried his best to maintain her demeanor and straightened the hem of her dress. Her greeting went unanswered. The Harlequins peeled off another complete skin, which sparked a few seconds of small joy.
One actor carefully held the fragile skin and jumped in small steps to deliver it to another actor holding a ribbon. The remaining actors picked up the remaining flesh and blood body and threw it into the pile of corpses.
Lilia Ander knows when to be patient.
"I'm here!" She raised her voice calmly, "Dear Midnight Gospel Troupe! I come with my decision and want to offer blessings and gifts to the respected Blood Marquis!"
A hand suddenly touched her shoulder. She turned around suddenly, and an Eldar wearing a long black coat, a skull helmet, and carrying a heavy gun just jumped from the top of the pillar above her shoulders.
“Death stands on the shoulders of mortals.” The clown who told the death said solemnly and lowly, with black and white diamond patterns painted on his arms, and his fingers firmly grasped Lilia Ander’s shoulders, “Mortal things will eventually come true. One death."
In the hall, the actors who were immersed in the skinning work all turned their heads to look. Silence spread quickly, except for the small sound of burning in the corner.
There sat a Shadow Seer - her mirror mask reflected the reflection of an incense burner, and the incense containing neurotoxins quietly filled the house from the incense burner she tended. Di pulled into the intoxicating singing.
"No!" the female noble screamed, "I want to offer a gift to the Blood Marquis. If you take my life in advance, it will be his rights that are damaged!"
"The invitation has been delivered," the clown said, "but you have not accepted the invitation."
The female noble frowned in fear, and after thinking for a few times, she recalled that during the carnival yesterday, there was indeed a messenger. A short note was delivered to the middle of the long table. The helplessness and regret suddenly became sharp enough to suffocate her. She gasped hard, feeling that the whole world was compressing towards her at this moment.
"I can't defend myself, actor," Lilia Ande tried her best to suppress the smell of fear exuding from her body and said loudly: "But I need to ask for a chance." Her words became more fluent, "Dispute The time has come, and in the chaos of Commorragh, only the one who started the fire will gain the upper hand. The royal court of the Blood Marquis is still short of subjects, and it is our fate to follow the power!”
The palm of the Killing Clown is close! She felt the pulse in her neck, and all she read from the skull mask was the equal cruelty of the Death Messenger.
Lilia Ander had to start to estimate how she was going to fight the clown: she had not taken the alchemy potion today; if the fight started, how many rounds could she contend with the hall full of Pied Eldar.
Her muscles were ready to go, until a dark laugh suddenly sounded in the hall filled with hanging corpses. Her skin exposed to the air tightened quickly, and cold pain penetrated her soul.
One piece of skin is pulled away, followed by the next. In the leather forest, the giant brushed aside the animal skins that were blocking the way one by one, and walked slowly through it, until the last dark skin was pulled aside by his pale palm.
The pale and solemn face approached her, and a stream of water fell down his shoulders, blending into the blood stains on the ground. The Suicide Clown let go of Lilia Ander and pushed her forward.
The next moment, she was picked up by the neck. She gritted her teeth, weakly grasped the palm of the visitor, and said with difficulty: "Salute to you, bloody..."
Conrad Coates let go lightly, causing the female noble to fall heavily. On the ground. Knowing that her life had improved, she immediately knelt down and ritually lowered her gaze downwards, exposing her neck, symbolizing humiliating submission. "Do you need any help, Marquis?"
She did not wait for the sharp blade to fall, nor did she wait for the sound of gunfire in the shadows.
"You are guilty," Conrad Coates said, pausing.
Lilia Ander immediately seized the opportunity to express her loyalty: "Please allow me a chance to atone."
"You are not the first person to surrender." Coze Smiling, his easy acceptance made Lilia Ander stiffen, unable to imagine where the former surrender was now.
“How can I satisfy your wishes and serve you?”
"It's very simple." Xuehou said, pulling out a short knife from his tool bag. A few seconds later, Lilia Ande smelled a strangely sweet smell of blood that suddenly spread in front of her.
A moment later, a short knife stained with blood was handed to her.
"Drink." He ordered. The female noble could feel the Blood Marquis looking at her.
Lilia Ander straightened her body, took the short knife, and carefully handed the blade into her mouth. In just a few seconds, the blood had turned cold. She was convinced that the Haemon must have performed some unknown editing and transformation on the blood in her body, but she had no choice.
The blood flowed into her body, like some strange medicine, and began to spread at a high speed. She was quickly pulled into a sensory frenzy, struggling in a whirlpool of hallucinations, feeling herself passing through layers of gauze-like darkness.
The world rustled and suffocated as the darkness deepened and she sank into a sea of silk and blood. Her mind was shrouded in a huge, gloomy network, and together with the decomposed and reconstructed genes, she fell into a deeper truth. At the heart of it all, her terrified subconscious is deeply touched, and there lives the core being that controls her worldview.
She realized that she was being reshaped by these shadows, and the old self was gradually freezing like a drained body. When her mind finally returned to the cold reality, her screams still echoed, as if facing the fear deep inside her.
Xue Hou’s laughter cut off her panic, and a cold charm shook her soul, nailing her to the world like a specimen. At the same time, she realized that her senses of the world were changing. Fundamental changes.
"Open your eyes, Lilia Ander." Curze ordered. "It's begun."
She carefully opened her eyes, closed them, and opened them again.
She saw the vast wilderness spread out in front of her eyes late at night, and the empty hall stood above the wilderness.
A distinguished king wears a huge blue armor with lightning patterns as deep as midnight, and a gorgeous bright red cloak. His expression is solemn and majestic. His attendants, dressed in colorful clothes, equally noble and clean, lowered their eyes to greet her.
Behind them, there was a pile of dead bones with a deep sinful smell hanging around them - she recognized every disgusting crime in these corpses.
Above the withered bones, clean banners of victory hung in the air, hanging in the still air with the eternal night sky as the background.
Obviously, the king and his court executed a group of enemies who had committed serious crimes and raised the bloody flag of proclamation. And this flag of sin-washing is the debt owed by the criminal to this world.
Only by peeling off the dirty skin from the flesh and washing away the sins with blood can we obtain supreme forgiveness and absolute soul satisfaction. That empty and endless desire will end happily at the moment when the blood flag flutters.
She gradually remembered who she was. Lilia Ander MacNeil, the Sinful Daughter.
“Give me a gift, Lilia Ander,” said the king.
"It's my honor."
She smiled happily, with the utmost piety, knelt down on her knees, raised the short knife, and started cutting from the delicate face, for The Blood Marquis made her blood flag.
(End of this chapter)