The Ascension of Contracted Spirits

Chapter 874 - 350: Bloodline Fusion_2

Huazhu seemed to have an epiphany, pondered for a few seconds, then nodded in thanks.

Wu Xuebi gave an indifferent laugh, flashed lightly, and her graceful figure drifted to land in front of Ye Hanjun.

She drew incredibly close, and Ye Hanjun could smell her scent.

It was not sweet enough, nor was it pungent enough.

It was like a savage beast itching to break free, its mountainous blood qi sealed within a human-sized body, every movement contained a sense of condescending scrutiny.

"So tender."

"The blood of your clan is quite tempting..."

A strange moan escaped from Wu Xuebi’s throat.

Through the hazy mist, Ye Hanjun could barely make out her eyes, which were filled with intense desire.

"What a pity."

"Given your current state, you’d probably die if I bit you, right?"

After twisting and turning for a while, Wu Xuebi said with a tone of regret, slowly creating a few meters distance from Ye Hanjun.

She regarded him as a forbidden poison, seemingly close at hand, yet also distant as the horizon.

"It’s pointless, I’ve never tasted the fresh blood of the Ye Clan’s royalty despite growing up in the palace."

"But... you’ve entered the Witch Ancestor’s Coffin, yet you look this miserable, your situation is rather dire..."

Wu Xuebi clicked her tongue in wonder, clearly uninformed about Ye Hanjun’s experiences.

"Hoping to create a miracle... is easier said than done."

As if privy to some information, Wu Xuepang stared intently at Ye Hanjun’s profile:

"If your path does not define an epoch, you are bound to perish along with your path."

"Sister Pàng!"

Wu Xuebi was displeased:

"I hate guessing games the most. What, I don’t have the right to know his true story either?"

"To the outside world, he is now a dead man."

"Even within the Ye Clan, it is said that very few are aware that he is still alive."

Wu Xuepang shook her head, murmuring:

"Young Emperor of the Ye Clan, Ye Hanjun."

"Rest assured and recuperate here; your sister, disciples, apprentices, and friends are currently in the Blood Witch Ancestral Land, enjoying abundant resources and solidly improving their strengths."

"You cannot meet them for the time being; if I’m not mistaken, you only need to heal your wounds and recover as quickly as possible for now..."

"Alright, let the professional Fond Spirits explain the professional matters."

A particularly playful voice interrupted the conversation. From the direction of the temple’s main entrance, a figure strolled in slowly.

He was dressed in a well-tailored black suit, a cool black cape draped over his back, and glossy leather boots on his feet. If not for the moon-frost tinted diseased skin and the height exceeding three meters, it would be difficult to distinguish him from humans.

"Bertnar, what are you doing here?"

Wu Xuebi and Wu Xuepang both frowned at once—especially the former, whose bright red waves surged violently, and a series of blood-red long spears hovered above her head.

Feeling the sharpness of their tips up close, Ye Hanjun was certain that this Minor Saintly Perfected Blood Witch Goddess was really contemplating an all-out brawl without any reserve.

"Little Xuebi, do you miss me that much?"

Vampire Prince Berte Nal, as if he hadn’t seen the blood spears, advanced step by step, unperturbed.

Wu Xuebi chuckled coldly, and in a flash, dozens of blood spears burst forth, clearing the sky of the blood mist.

"Rip!!"

The spears were as quick as Berte Nal was leisurely in his movements.

With a wave of his robe, the trajectory of the blood spears changed from horizontal to vertical, plunging down into the blood pool, shattering into waves of blood-like energy.

"Hey hey hey, if you’re this infatuated with me, it’s going to be troubling."

Berte Nal strode forward and suddenly rushed to Wu Xuebi’s front, giving her a big hug.

"Get lost!"

Wu Xuebi was furious, her nails grew wildly, and in a blink of an eye turned into ten blood swords, viciously slashing at Berte Nal’s neck.

"Little Xuebi, even if you train for another thousand or two years, you might still not be able to hurt a single hair on my body, so why bother."

Shrugging his shoulders, Berte Nal side-stepped and leapt, avoiding all the attacks with ease.

He wore a perfect smile, his charming eyes like glazed gems, and glanced at Wu Xuepang beside:

"Xuepang, you wouldn’t be as unreasonable as Xuebi, would you?"

"Inhale—"

Wu Xuepang took a deep breath, her skin as red as blood slowly returning to snow white.

Her furious aura plummeted, but the disdain in her hoarse voice was palpable:

"I really want to kill you..."

"How dare you defile the Divine Clan, insulting Sister Lan..."

"If it weren’t for the Night Family protecting you, reducing you to ashes wouldn’t appease the hatred in my heart..."

"Sigh."

Berte Nal sighed:

"Blood Lan and I are mutually attracted, so why do you obstruct us?"

"Spouting nonsense!"

Wu Xuebi retorted with deep loathing:

"The Witch God has just perished, and you, as a visitor to our clan, dare commit such acts."

"A few thousand years from now, if the Blood Sorcerer Clan is in decline, will you dare to abduct us all to expand your harem selection?"

"I don’t want to argue with a shrew."

Berte Nal snapped his fingers, and a blood-red seal stuck to Wu Xuebi’s mouth.

Ignoring her muffled, frantic protest, Berte Nal remained composed and spoke confidently:

"Frankly, Blood Lan and I met in the epoch before last."

"She saved my life, and I’ve saved hers. Our relationship is far more complicated than you could imagine."

"Before her death, the Witch God decreed..."

Wu Xuepang enunciated every word:

"The Blood Sorcerer Clan, our bloodline is our heritage, we must breed alone, and must not join with any alien race."

"Even if you too wield the path of blood and are the Holy Spirit, the king on that path, you should not be disrupting our traditions..."