The night was deep, the scarlet dazzling.
Amid the wails and groans all around, the Blood Scion stood straight in the middle of Moon Street, his right hand gently stroking the [Devoted Blood] on his left index finger. He ignored Freeman, who lay prostrate before him, his face excited and his eyes pleading. He paid no heed to the Lady of the Long Night, who inspired terror from the depths of one's heart. His attention rested solely on the ring on his left index finger, his eyes thick with reminiscence, as though recounting the past.
Freeman, the owner of Silver Brow Racetrack and former owner of 14 Whitebird District, knelt there without daring to breathe too loudly, terrified of disturbing the Blood Scion.
The Lady of the Long Night's gaze appeared to rest on the Blood Scion, but in truth, she had already been discreetly surveying their surroundings.
Compared to the Blood Scion who had already appeared, the fellow who had used Freeman to deceive everyone concerned her far more.
This allowed Arthur, who had been secretly observing her, to breathe a small sigh of relief inwardly.
Compared to the veteran Death Poetry Society member hiding in the shadows and weaving a web like a spider, he was more concerned about the Lady of the Long Night before him.
Just look at the undead within that smoke. This lady's intimidating presence and strength were all too real.
Fortunately, she was clever enough!
And clever people always thought too much!
That was precisely what he could exploit!
At that thought, Arthur let out a sigh tinged with loneliness and helplessness-it was quiet, but he made certain Malinda could hear it.
Then the Blood Scion shook off his memories completely. As he lowered his hand, his expression turned icy once more.
"What