The Bizarre Wizarding World-Chapter 89 - 82: Flames of Vengeance

Crack—

Crack!

In the Thorn District, an invisible crimson figure struggled free from his gradually tightening shackles. Under his tremendous strength, it seemed as if invisible fragments were peeling off from around him.

"This is the power of the great Master of the Blood Meat Thorns!"

After breaking free from the shackles, Arman surveyed his now completely unrecognizable body and silently praised in his heart.

He looked up at the huge Protective Shield that was slowly rising above the Wizard Territory, but he did not hurry to pursue.

Instead, he withdrew his gaze and turned his head to look around.

After a moment, his mind moved.

Invisible crimson mist spilled from his body, sweeping toward all directions like tentacles.

"My faithful followers..." he said in a deep voice,

"Come to me. I will lead you to revive the glory of the Master."

As his voice echoed, those Blood Flesh Thorns Sect members and corrupted Gang members who still survived, their eyes gradually enveloped in crimson.

They all changed direction, feverishly approaching Arman, to receive the baptism of the tentacle-like invisible crimson mist!

The flesh on the cultists' bodies writhed and twisted as if alive, while the Gang wizards' bodies surged with Magic Power, then vanished!

And in its place, a deep black and red mist emerged.

"Madman!" Far down the alley, the leader of Chiwen Gang, Ted, cursed upon seeing such a scene.

He had not anticipated Arman would be so insane!

Regardless of the outcome, not one of these people would be able to step into the Divine Country.

They would only become kindling for the Master of Blood Flesh Thorns' power!

He shifted his gaze away, figuring out the direction, preparing to take the chance to flee quickly.

Along the side of the street, turning around the corner, he melted into the escaping crowd of commoners as silently as a droplet into the sea.

He glanced briefly at the ordinary people around him.

To the left was a gaunt old man, his emaciated body no longer as strong as in his youth, now gasping under the strain.

Yet he still ran doggedly, his face pale with fear, not daring to lag behind.

And on the left were a couple, the man's temples grizzled, one hand carrying a small boy, the other pulling along his frail wife.

The wife held the hand of an eight or nine-year-old girl.

All of their faces were panicked, desperately running, even the little girl gritting her teeth to keep up.

Looking at them, looking at these common mortals he had never cared about, Ted felt a complex emotion rising within.

He looked back once more at the distant figure with faint outlines, his heart shaking with a mix of awe and fear.

For some reason, he regretted cooperating with the Blood Flesh Thorns Sect for the first time.

He sighed softly.

"...No matter, I just need to bide my time in the shadows, wait until they and Wizard Lap have battled it out, and then make a move."

The Evil God's projection would not last forever; if the Blood Flesh Thorns Sect won and Wizard Lap perished,

Then when the projection dispersed, those cultists would likely be mostly dead... The island would undoubtedly become a world for these Peak Apprentices!

If it came to him taking power, he would surely drive out and exterminate all those cultists!

However,

If Wizard Lap won...

His expression darkened.

"If Wizard Lap wins, staying on the island would be a dead end!" he hesitated slightly, changing direction and heading toward the east side of the city.

By then, I must take a boat off the island to fight for a chance at life... first to the eastern harbor..."

Hiss!

A set of crimson tentacles suddenly attacked from behind him!

Ted's expression changed drastically, and several witchcraft glows were instantly bestowed upon him.

But to no avail, the tentacles pierced directly through his chest as if nothing were there, pulling him backward.

Magic Power...

Magic Power boiled fiercely!

Pfft.

Ted couldn't help spitting out a mouthful of blood.

In his backward flying perspective, he could clearly see.

The ordinary people who were just by his side had been contaminated with the crimson mist brought by the tentacles and showed a terrifying picture of mutation and corruption!

They couldn't even let out a scream before they burst violently, turning into a mass of blood-red flesh.

As if sensing something, he suddenly raised his arm.

It was then that he was shocked to discover!

As Magic Power boiled and vanished, his arm began to show signs of transformation.

Flesh began to crawl and shift.

His originally fair and ordinary arm, in the blink of an eye, turned into a long, hideous arm with dark red spikes!

No, it was not just the arm changing!

Ted's pupils contracted slightly, full of fear.

Swoosh!

The crimson tentacles brought a monster covered with fierce blood thorns to Arman's side.

When the tentacles released, the dark red creature stood still as if it were a sculpture.

"…Praise the great Master of Blood Flesh Thorns."

A low, fanatical voice came from its mouth.

Arman raised his head, a smile emerging on his godlike, almost human face.

After a little while,

Next to his massive, invisible body, a large circle of various dark red monsters had gathered.

Among them, the most conspicuous were the two figures, one large and one small, closest to him.

The large creature was covered with fierce blood thorns, its blood-red carapace reflecting cold light like steel.

The smaller creature hovered in midair, its slender body crowned with a scepter-like right hand emanating blood-red crystalline light.

"About time," Arman surveyed the surrounding circle and contemplated.

He slightly raised his arm, savoring the feeling.

The power within him remained abundant...

But he knew,

He did not have much time left.

In at most another hour, this abundant power would rapidly decline within a short period!

He needed to seize the time as quickly as possible.

But now was not the time.

He glanced again at the distant Wizard Territory.

Before officially launching an attack, there was another task he had to do.

Arman withdrew his gaze and spread his arms, made of the invisible crimson mist, with a thought!

Whoosh—

The crimson tendrils kept retracting into his body, restoring him to his complete, majestic figure.

The next second, a red mist gradually began to spread from his body.

Unlike the crimson mist tendrils.

The red mist, lighter in color and thinner.

It seemed slow but spread quickly in all directions, and in no time, enveloped the entire Blackstone City!

Then, a low, mournful groan emanated from Arman's body, spreading with the mist.

"Vengeance..."

"Vengeance!"

"The Lord of the Blood Flesh Thorns is watching you!

He will grant you the flames of vengeance!"

"Go..."

"Go and take vengeance!"

"...Go and please Him with your scalding Heart of Revenge!"

The pale red mist kept spreading...

The world turned crimson.

"Save me!"

"Save me, Al!"

Somewhere in the streets.

Al's eyes betrayed confusion as he clutched his head.

The dull throbbing ache in his brain left him rooted to the spot, echoes of Al's shrieks for help bouncing in his mind!

"What's wrong, Al?" asked his elderly mother with concern, her wrinkled face filled with worry.

"Nothing... Mom." Al shook his head, paused to glance around, and then asked, "Didn't you see the red mist?"

"Red mist?" His mother was startled, looking around.

All she saw was the orange glow of fires, collapsed buildings, and crowds of people fleeing in panic.

"I didn't see any red mist." She looked back at Al with even more concern and urged, "Hurry up, Al."

"The wizards have left... we can only survive if we escape far enough and last until they return."

She adjusted the baggage on her back, freeing her hand, grabbing Al to continue fleeing.

The elderly woman moved forward, but the resistance in her hand made her pause.

Al remained where he was, expressionless.

"...What's gotten into you, Al?" She turned back with urgency, "We'll be too late if we don't run now!"

"Al?"

"Al!"

She called out loudly.

But Al stayed put, his gaze growing increasingly vacant as a hint of crimson began to emerge from the depths of his pupils.

"My child, what has happened to you?!" The elderly woman was frantic with concern.

She watched as fewer and fewer people were around her, unable to suppress the panic in her heart, tears involuntary falling.

"What has gotten into you..."

"Mom... do you remember Al?"

Al slightly bowed his head, interrupting his mother, and asked lightly, looking at her.

The elderly woman was taken aback, frowning slightly, the lines on her face deepening.

"At a time like this, you're still thinking about that girl..." she averted her gaze as she spoke.

Tap tap.

Footsteps sounded.

"Where are you going?! Al!"

She was stunned for a moment, turning back to see Al's retreating back in shock, shouting after him.

"Where are you going... Al?"

But as she got a clear look at Al's form, her tone grew weaker.

Flesh flowed like magma; eyes crimson in his wax-molten form commanded awe.

"I'm going to take vengeance, Mom." The crimson creature replied softly, its voice dripping like fresh blood.

Immediately after, it lifted its head, gazing fervently into the distance, murmuring:

"Mom... I've seen the truth!

...The Lord of the Blood Flesh Thorns is watching me!"

Boom!

As the words fell, a bright yellow flame of vengeance rose from him.

"Ah!"

The elderly woman, terrified by this abnormality, fell to the ground, her complexion ashen.

The bright yellow light illuminated her face, the reflection of the fiery human figure in her pupils slowly shrinking.

Al, with the flame, moved further away.

The light vanished, and darkness once again enveloped the woman.

"Fools!"

Down the street, Harrington watched towards the direction of Thorns Street, cursing softly under his breath.

Surveying the dismal scene around him, his face was ice-cold, but inside was a brewing anger.

The once orderly Blackstone City was now under the influence of the invisible red mist, plunged into utter chaos!

Fiery figures could be seen everywhere, engaging wantonly in slaughter, then turning to ash.

He had never expected the Blood Flesh Thorns Sect to be so foolish as to let Lap find the location of their ritual altar.

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'Maybe the plan needs to be considered more carefully.'

He sighed and turned away, heading back into the house.

But quickly, his steps hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly.

With a hollow grasp of his right hand, a magical staff with dark gold patterns coalesced in his hand.

After this, he looked up to carefully examine the slender, dark red creature with a staff-like right hand that had appeared out of nowhere, floating mid-air.