This World Is Seriously Ill

Kevin turned back to look at the altar where every candle had gone out, a hint of mockery appearing between his brows.

"Meygo? The Child of Blood conceived by the last Sumerian Queen?"

"It seemed that, even now, the success rate of the bloodkin's secret method of using Filth Blood to conceive a divine child was still zero."

Judging by the wound on the Sumerian Queen's corpse that looked like it had been made during a cesarean section, along with the arrangement of this place, it was clearly meant to commemorate that stillborn child.

After displaying so many Blood Quality Secret Arts, that Sumerian Queen had to be the ancestor of those people in Cainhurst Castle.

During the Sumerian era, when the Beast Calamity had run rampant, the last queen had possessed ample Filth Blood, yet she had still failed to bring forth a Child of Blood. She had even lost her life in the process.

Now, he was basically certain that this bizarre folk remedy of oral conception was, nine times out of ten, a massive trap!

"Say, Senior Sister Maria, how about you persuade your distant relatives in Cainhurst Castle? Stop messing around when there's nothing better to do. Finding a husband and doing things properly would be more reliable."

The man had merely intended to offer some kind advice when he saw blood energy billowing around Maria. Her eyes had gone unfocused as she stared ahead and walked forward blankly, murmuring under her breath.

"I think... I heard a baby crying..."

"A baby crying? Senior Sister Maria, since entering the Sumerian underground palace, I haven't heard any strange noises at all."

Kevin's gaze sharpened. He reached out and pressed a hand onto the female hunter's shoulder, his voice low and chilling.

At that moment, Maria suddenly jolted