Tristan was in a half-conscious state, barely discerning his surroundings, when he had found himself chomping at the elder's neck and spat it out like a tiger finishing its al of a venison. Moreover, he felt such a sensation of fulfillnt as the blood spilled into his mouth and flowed through his throat.
At this mont, his mind began to wonder if this legacy transformation was influenced by the beast ntioned by Virtaz. As he had no clear recollection of it throughout his previous journey down the mory lane, Tristan eventually concluded this must be part of the next mory fragnt.
One dead elven elder gave him another 2000 Blood Essence, a joyful matter. But from what he had seen so far, this amount of Blood Essence would probably only allow him to maintain this transformation for one minute or two minutes at most.
At the mont, Tristan had already killed five out of the twelve elders of the Forlorn Kingdom. That ant there were seven of them left, and added with that hateful Forlorn Prince; there were a total of eight people who could endanger his life in this place.
Attention completely placed at his opponents, Tristan's brain started to work rapidly, thinking of many different scenarios on how he would deal with these Forlorn elves. His main objective certainly hadn't deviated from the initial, which was the Forlorn Prince.
However, the said prince, who was a stage 5 Katra practitioner was currently hiding among those 7 elders of his.
Even though he was sure the current him could handle everything that the other party threw at him, he still wanted to think of different approaches.
Sure, he could continue on with this overpowered legacy form of his, and he might even be able to kill them all. But to what extent? Massacre the whole elf city would definitely only bring more trouble toward his future in this place.
If he really went ahead with that headstrong-kind of plan, Tristan was sure all the Blood Essence he earned from this would probably be completely spent, for the Legacy transformation.
He had to think of a better way to deal with these people, one that allowed him to reap the maximum amount of benefit.
With his hand still holding the headless elven elder, Tristan stopped and looked toward the spectacting crowd - the hundreds of Forlorn elves who were clearly terrified by him. As his gaze landed on them, the bloodthirsty urge he had kept echoing inside and gnawing at his willpower, but he still gave his best to rein it in.
Unfortunately, he soon discovered that this urge of his was extrely difficult to resist while he was in this transformation. Thoughts, intents, and whispers telling him to slaughter kept filling and repeating in his mind.
It couldn't be that he had to empty his Blood Essence before the transformation stopped?
Tristan was dumbfounded when he realized he really didn't know how to stop this transformation of his. He was annoyed to know that the mory fragnts were playing a trick at him by not giving out all the information.
Despite his mind clearly wanting to stop this, his body was still drawn to see more blood shed.
Eventually, Tristan unleashed a loud roar again and dashed toward the trembling elders and prince at breakneck speed. However, a powerful spell was suddenly casted at him from behind and he soon discovered that he had slowed down and his body was gradually encased in ice.
[Ice Prison]
Tristan knew right away it was that blind prince Elroth who stopped him as he had seen the other party use this spell on the Forlorn Prince. The tier 5 spell was strong enough to stop his advance, but it took him only a second to break through the constraint restraining him.
The mont he broke out of the ice, Tristan imdiately turned around and searched for Elroth with a piercing glare. He was tempted to kill the ungrateful elf after receiving the unexpected 'kindness'.
But then, before he could contemplate further about the matter, Tristan was surprised when he saw how Elroth approached him. He got off Serene's back, dropped to the ground, crawled over to him, and put his head down to the ground before saying,
"Please, Lord Monarch. Please stop this. Please no more killing."
Upon seeing and hearing Elroth's words, Janus the Forlorn Prince beca enraged.
"What are you doing, brother?! You are shaming the na of Forlorn elves!"
Elroth clearly heard his brother's words, but he completely ignored them. With his head still touching the ground, he once again spoke.
"Please spare my people, My Lord. They don't know what they are doing."
Tristan's hand that was decorated with sharp claws grabbed the blind, legless Elroth's shoulders and pulled him up close to his face. When everyone thought he was going to kill the latter, they were surprised to find nothing happened.
On the other hand, Tristan inwardly felt surprised. He didn't know if it was because of the ice spell or the sincere yet pitiful plea, but he could feel his bloodthirsty urges calming down a bit.
The next thing that happened was, Tristan felt like he could finally contain the rage inside of him by force. Soon, he discovered his transformation gradually dispelling.
In a matter of seconds, Tristan's figure changed as the blood that splattered across his entire body started transforming into mist. Red-colored smoke diffused out of his body and enveloped him entirely, blocking everyone from seeing what happened. The mont the smoke receded, Tristan had returned to normal.
Just as he had returned to normal, Tristan then suddenly did sothing that shocked everyone on the spot. He brought his hand up, and imdiately, blood mist gathered upon him and inched toward Elroth.
[Blood Synthesis]
Under everyone's eyes, Elroth's missing legs and eyes were slowly but surely reforming. And before anyone could realize what had happened, he had returned to his old self.
----------------------------------
Written by Avans, Published exclusively by W.e.b.n.o.v.e.l,
Reviews
All reviews (0)