Chapter 224
“Go! Kill them!”
The Black Dragon’s angry bellow echoed, and with a kick, it knocked down the nearest Undead to the ground.
This time, the Undead moved.
However, they didn’t charge at the “intruders,” but instead, they stiffly turned their heads and fixed their vacant gazes onto Gicod.
Within their hollow eye sockets, a ghostly green flame burned incessantly—silent yet oppressive.
Being stared at by thousands of Undead like this, even the irascible Black Dragon sensed that something was amiss.
“What are you looking at me for? Go! Kill them!”
It commanded once more, furiously.
Of course, it still received no response from the Undead.
Not only that, but to the Black Dragon’s shock, it watched as the Undead Legion it had personally created suddenly raised their mining tools and stepped forward in its direction.
“What… what are you going to do?”
The Black Dragon asked, bewildered.
It held up the crimson pages high; the pages flickered with red light, trying to regain control over the Undead:
“Undead! Hear my command! Hear my command!”
The Undead… ignored it completely.
From behind the Undead, a light sigh arose, clearly audible in the cavernous space.
The gathered Undead suddenly moved aside, creating a path, and the shattered Bone Spirits all bent low, respectfully bowing along the path.
The Black Dragon watched incredulously as the Undead, now beyond its control and seemingly worshiping something, parted to reveal the once inconspicuous werewolf girl stepping forward.
The powerful Elf who had fought without falling to the dragon stood respectfully behind the girl, half a step behind, like a devoted follower.
The mysterious Black Cat, which had wrought Divine Arts, walked proudly by the girl’s side, as if it were a Magic Pet following its owner.
And in the girl’s hands, she gently cradled a thick black tome, its deep light unfurling, and in mid-air, a phantom Book Spirit eerily drifted, bowing respectfully and obediently towards the girl.
The girl’s hair, once disguised to look like a boy’s, had now fallen loose.
No longer the gray of a werewolf, but a glorious, mysterious silver, and within those reddish-golden eyes, there was a flicker of brilliance, as if some unimaginable power was brewing.
She looked at the bewildered Black Dragon with pity, gently shaking her head:
“Lost in the path of Wildness within the Transformation Magic System, completely confused about one’s self-identity, it’s truly pitiful…”
Saying so, Charlotte gently closed the tome in her hand, gazing meaningfully at the crimson pages in the dragon’s claws:
“Mr. Gicod, has anyone ever told you that relying too much on the power of cursed pages that aren’t your own will ultimately lead you to madness?”
“Even… for a Bloodline.”
The Black Dragon’s eyes were fixed on the thick tome in the girl’s hand, its expression completely transformed:
“The Book of the Dead? How could the Book of the Dead be in your possession?!”
“You’re not a werewolf!”
“Count Hall? No… You are not Count Hall! You’re not his maid either!”
“Who… exactly are you?!”
…
Meanwhile, at the same time, in a castle in Castel.
Having finished her ablutions and preparing for bed, the Bloodline girl Agnes suddenly stumbled and collapsed to the floor.
“Son of a bitch, Count Castel!”
“Bitch-bred spirit of the Book of the Dead!”
“You bastards, actually drawing power from me again without permission!”
She lay weak, her complexion pale, as she gritted her teeth and said.