The blood on the ground was still rising, reaching waist depth in the blink of an eye and turning the entire hall into a sea of blood. Its sickly sweet stench was enough to make one vomit.
Cheney's head was splitting apart. He pounded his head hard, his eyes wide as he shouted, "I... am... the vice president of the Purification Society! The acting Speaker of the Eagle Country Senate! Cheney Crafe! The man with the strongest willpower in the world! I cannot be hypnotized! I am the Whisperer's First Apostle!"
As he roared, the blood on the ground had already risen over his head and continued toward the ceiling.
Submerged in the blood, Cheney's mouth kept filling with warm, sickly sweet fluid. Unable to breathe, he could only desperately clutch his throat as he began to suffocate.
Then he suddenly shoved his right index finger into his mouth and began frantically biting down on the second knuckle.
His eyes bulged as Cheney bit down with all his strength, heedless of everything else. Piercing pain immediately shot through him, but delight rose in his heart. If he could feel pain, he could break the hypnosis.
What he needed now was an even more intense stimulus!
His hand began bleeding almost instantly. He had even bitten through the skin, exposing the tendons beneath.
The surrounding sea of blood suddenly began to boil, and cracks appeared across the walls.
Agonizing pain radiated from the wound. Cheney continued savagely chewing his finger, and before long, his teeth had cut halfway through the second knuckle.
More cracks spread across the hall's walls, as though they could collapse at any moment.
He couldn't stop!
A low growl rumbled from Cheney's throat as he exerted more force. With a crack, his upper and lower teeth slammed