The Ancient Gods' Whisper-Chapter 756 - 364: The Role of the Male Sacrifice (Part 3)
Skylark gazed at the sky, clearing after the rain, a splendid rainbow streaked across the horizon, shrouded in a misty haze.
"If I am truly using you, would you be angry?"
She said softly.
Gu Jianlin remained silent for a moment, his eyelids lowered: "I don’t mind, as long as it’s against The Order of the Hidden."
His consciousness gradually sank into a pitch-black abyss, yet his hands were tightly clenched, nails not particularly sharp deeply embedded in his palms, faintly, a trace of blood flowed out, who knows where he got the strength.
Even at this point, he was still unwilling to fall asleep.
So stubborn.
Skylark’s eyes reflected a slight change.
Finally, she withdrew her previous amusement and mockery, no longer displaying girlish coyness or anger, in her bewitching and enchanting eyes appeared a trace of arrogance and dignity, as if from a far-off place, solitary and majestic.
Gu Jianlin was right.
Skylark indeed was using him, against the enemies lurking in the darkness.
She was feigning weakness towards the enemy, and not exerting her full strength.
She was learning.
Also mimicking.
Because she was a completely new life, like a newborn, knowing nothing about herself.
Indeed, she was powerful, powerful enough to be called the strongest in the world.
Even the President and the King of Qing, she was utterly fearless.
The problem was, she couldn’t understand this form of life, nor did she grasp her own abilities.
Yes, she wouldn’t undergo Ancient God Transformation.
Nor comprehend Ancient Divine Language.
To be precise, she didn’t know how to wield the power of the Ancient God Clan in the real world.
The forbidden power Gu Jianlin naturally mastered seemed so incredible to her.
"So what you rely on is not technique, but instinct?"
Skylark said indifferently: "A kind of instinct derived from powerful willpower? Even if everyone perishes, you will not retreat a step. To you, retreating equals surrender. So proud, you won’t live long."
Gu Jianlin couldn’t answer her words, he curled up on the seat like a child, the Nightmare already spread over his mind, like a demon trying to devour the deepest consciousness of the seventeen-year-old boy.
Skylark remained silent for a moment, raising a delicate right hand.
There is no such perfect hand in the world.
Skin as smooth as jade, delicate flowing lines, red nails luscious and vibrant.
On the back of the white hand, faint blue veins could be seen.
Skylark roughly grabbed his collar, pulling him into her embrace, pressed her right hand to his lips, forcibly using her nails to pierce the palm, squeezing out the blood, feeding it to him.
This was Dragon Marrow Liquid.
Previously, after Gu Jianlin used Ancient Divine Language at Black Cloud City, he recovered with Dragon Marrow Liquid.
Only after probing into his memories did Skylark realize that Dragon Marrow Liquid was her own blood.
So her blood had such an effect.
Such a useful Male Sacrifice, able to help her against her enemies, also allowing her to learn from him.
A win-win situation.
Can’t let him die so disgracefully.
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Mad ravings echoed through Heiya Mansion in Chiyoda District, the butler and servants trembling outside the walls, cherry blossoms blown by the wind scattered chaotically, fluttering down the stone steps.
Someone walked over crushing fallen cherry blossoms, the intense scent of blood so overwhelming.
The mansion’s butler was Holy Land Level, along with the servants’ strength reaching Sixth Rank, yet at this moment they were still as sculptures, as if their time-space had already frozen, even their thoughts stilled.
It was a handsome and strikingly tall half-blood man, half of his white shirt stained with blood, hands holding a soaked handkerchief, wiping the blood between his fingers, so gruesome, yet so elegant.
He extended his hand, pressing against the tightly closed door, pushed hard.
Creak.
The door opened.
The courtyard was already a mess, the old man crazily smashed teapots and porcelain on the ground, everywhere lay torn precious paintings and shattered ancient artifacts, these priceless antiques now reduced to rubbish.
"Who?"
Jiang Chunyang raised his head, roaring, eyes flashing furious scarlet lines.
"Good morning."
Jing Ci smiled and said.
