Chapter Thirty-Seven: Bloody Mary

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Bloody Mary

If one were to observe Xia Zheng’s eyes closely at this moment, it would be evident that his gaze was like a camera, recording every scene along the way and storing them as evidence. This was a unique ability granted by his spiritual power; otherwise, ordinary methods would easily be detected.

The entrance to the underground level bore a distinctly otherworldly style. At the doorway hung a demon ornament: a crimson-skinned creature with fleshy wings, protruding fangs curling from its mouth, pupils vertical, and an expression both wicked and cruel, yet shrouded in mystery.

“That is one of the true gods of our kind—Heller, Guardian of the Gates.” Mirabel spoke with reverence, bowing deeply, followed by her companions. Xia Zheng and Shen Hua were indifferent, mimicking the gesture out of courtesy, while Xia Zheng diligently chronicled every detail.

Beyond the gate stretched a long corridor of stone, torches lining the walls casting a bright yet enigmatic glow. Though the passage appeared flat, Xia Zheng’s spiritual senses revealed it sloped downward, descending deep into the earth.

Led by Mirabel, Xia Zheng and Shen Hua walked at the vanguard. Behind them came pairs of men and women, mostly young and beautiful women.

“How much farther?” Xia Zheng inquired.

“Soon,” Mirabel reassured him. “I promise you won’t regret coming.”

Shen Hua instantly adopted a look of rapt fascination, her acting worthy of an award, far surpassing Xia Zheng’s amateur attempts. Xia Zheng endured, trailing behind Mirabel and Shen Hua, as the two women whispered secrets, exchanging smiles only women understood.

Half an hour passed before a bright expanse appeared ahead, accompanied by the clamor of voices.

“So many people?” Xia Zheng hadn’t expected such a vast underground gathering place.

Stepping out of the corridor, he was met with a cacophony of noise, a surging crowd, and before him, a massive ten-meter-tall birdcage guarded by masked, shirtless, burly sentinels, their presence overwhelming.

“Welcome to tonight’s offering…” A voice, reminiscent of a live DJ, echoed through the hall, though the words—offering?—sent chills down the spine.

As pairs of young men and women entered, the atmosphere grew increasingly feverish. Xia Zheng looked up, realizing they had entered the center of a grand hall, surrounded by tiers of balconies—three or four stories high. The spectators were all Mirabel’s kin, strikingly beautiful, their ears tipped, faces refined and almond-shaped. Yet their fervor was predatory, their eyes glowing an eerie green, like wolves staring at prey.

“A ritual is about to begin, honoring our ancestral god. Stay close to me—do not leave.” Mirabel ascended the stairs, Xia Zheng and Shen Hua following, recording everything they saw.

The other men and women were not permitted on the stairs. Instead, they were led one by one into the birdcage, seemingly entranced, oblivious to resistance or protest.

“They’re hypnotized,” Shen Hua communicated via spiritual transmission.

Xia Zheng nodded, offering no words of rescue. To intervene now would be suicide; they were deep within the enemy’s lair.

On the second-floor balcony, Xia Zheng and Shen Hua flanked Mirabel, gazing down.

A line of female priests in purple robes entered, led by a male priest in white, wielding an ornate staff.

“All rise for prayer!” The male priest called out, silence falling as the crowd, Mirabel included, approached the balcony rail, hands clasped in prayer.

Mirabel turned to them. “You’d best do as I do.”

Xia Zheng and Shen Hua mimicked her posture, standing at her sides.

Then a woman’s song rang out—unaccompanied—soon joined by more voices, the female priests behind the male priest. Mirabel joined in, and from every tier, the song swelled: the lyrics told a story, of their ancestral god escaping captivity by dark forces, shattering her prison, leading her people across mountains, founding a kingdom and homeland. To defend this sanctuary, they fought fiercely, securing their survival, though their god, drained of power, fell into slumber, awaiting the day she would awaken and lead her kin to conquer the world, finally vanquishing those who once imprisoned them.

Xia Zheng sensed the song’s story was likely true, not mere myth—exaggerated, perhaps, but its essence mirrored the blood clan’s rise. But who, he wondered, had imprisoned their god? Could it have been…humans?

It defied imagination: humans once imprisoned the blood clan’s ancestral god, yet now had lost Evernight City to them, a stain upon the Federation.

When the prayers ended, the blood clan’s followers erupted in shouts of “Restore the kingdom! Restore the kingdom!”

“Our ancestral god granted us life and magical power. This ceremony is dedicated to her.” Mirabel’s eyes shone with frenzied devotion.

The ritual continued. The burly guards, carrying hooks, approached the birdcage and, like slaughtering poultry, dragged out the young men and women by ankles or limbs. Blood poured out, staining the floor, and the victims pleaded and wept, their cries only fueling the blood clan’s laughter.

Xia Zheng watched, his face ashen, spiritual power barely restrained, his murderous intent obvious as he glared at the blood clan devotees.

“Don’t!” Shen Hua’s mental voice reached him.

“Why? Should I just stand by and watch them die?” Xia Zheng responded coldly.

Shen Hua replied, “If you can’t endure, you’ll ruin the greater plan. Your mission here isn’t to save these hypnotized victims, but to destroy this place and rescue many more.”

“But…must we sacrifice this handful?” Xia Zheng struggled. His youthful idealism always drove him to save everyone, not to abandon some for the greater good.

Emotion and reason often collide; emotion tends to prevail, making reason rare, especially in moments of crisis.

Shen Hua did not blame him. Everyone must grow through such trials; learning to choose and sacrifice is the mindset of adults, not children dreaming of perfect endings. Reality is harsh—only by understanding this can one truly mature.

“Places like Midnight Mary’s underground bar exist all across the Federation, and even here in Hyde Castle, there are several. If you act rashly, they’ll vanish, making them harder to find and resulting in more victims. Xia Zheng, your master knows your heart seeks salvation, but you must learn to choose. Is it worth risking everything to save these few—who might not even survive—or should you save many more? Be calm!” Shen Hua said no more; as a guide, she not only taught cultivation but also how to choose paths in life, her role as mentor unshaken even if the disciple didn’t heed her.

Xia Zheng’s eyes reddened as he watched the men and women dragged away like livestock, their blood pooling in a basin below. As their numbers grew, the basin overflowed. Those drained were tossed aside like refuse.

He and Shen Hua continued their silent exchange, finalizing their plan.

The priestesses filled goblets with blood, adding spirits, celery stalks, and lemon slices—a true Bloody Mary.

Cup after cup was sent upstairs, one for each person, as if in a bar. Mirabel took one, knowing Xia Zheng and Shen Hua wouldn’t drink, so she did not insist. The blood clan followers serving drinks smiled knowingly at them, their gaze as if appraising food.

“What a delicacy!” Mirabel exclaimed, sipping her Bloody Mary.

Xia Zheng gradually regained his composure, the chill in his eyes intensifying. Below, the birdcage’s humans had been slaughtered, and nearly every blood clan member held a Bloody Mary.

“Do you know why I keep you close, not kill you?” Mirabel asked confidently.

Shen Hua stared back, silent.

Xia Zheng sneered, “You like fresh blood, don’t you?”

“Clever!” Mirabel set her glass aside, pressed herself against Xia Zheng, her eyes alluring.

“As long as you become my servant, you need not die. You two are special—able to stay lucid under hypnosis. With training, you’ll make excellent servants.” Mirabel wrapped her arms around Xia Zheng’s neck, attempting to kiss him.

Xia Zheng’s eyes grew hazy; his mission was nearly complete, the mystery of the missing girls solved, with image and video evidence ready for upload. Now he only needed to escape safely—but that was not enough. He couldn’t settle for mere escape; he wanted chaos.

Suddenly, blood sprayed from Mirabel’s neck, slashed by Xia Zheng’s spiritual blade. He licked some blood, spat it out, and with a wild smile said, “So your blood clan’s blood stinks!”

“I’ll kill you!” Mirabel, never before so humiliated by a human, felt insulted beyond her wound, which soon healed thanks to her physique.

“Go ahead.” Xia Zheng shoved Mirabel toward Shen Hua, who swiftly imprisoned her with spiritual power, suppressing her abilities. Shen Hua hoisted her onto her back, following Xia Zheng.

“Ladies and gentlemen…” Xia Zheng leapt atop the railing, shouting loudly, as his hands summoned two giant blades, each two meters long.

His gaze swept the hall, eyes flashing bolts of lightning into the balcony’s crevices. Cracks spidered up the structure, shaking it violently, threatening collapse.

The blood clan followers, once intoxicated in bliss, panicked. Among them, only a few possessed real combat ability; most merely enjoyed blood, their strength slightly above humans, but no more capable in battle.

“Tonight, I witnessed your grand performance and received your hospitality. ‘To give nothing in return is impolite,’ so let me repay your kindness—die, all of you!” Xia Zheng swung his spiritual blades, sending gusts of wind slicing through the hall, hastening the collapse of the already unstable balconies…