The woman walked down the corridor on the left, and Chad did not leave until her figure disappeared. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 infoThe spacious foyer seemed so empty at the moment, windowless, gloomy. The main wall in the hall is painted with the famous painting "Death of Allah", and the sound of the piano that looms from time to time is resentful, far-reaching, and lonely for a hundred years.

The claustrophobic stone staircase turns downward, and the deeper it gets, the darker it becomes. There was a torch burning at the entrance, but she ignored it, and immersed herself in darkness, and the moment the shadow passed overhead, two streaks of scarlet appeared.

The small space was deep and dark, and only the sound of the heel hitting the ground could be heard from time to time.

At the entrance, the flame of the torch suddenly swayed a few times, and the whole tunnel began to shake slightly, she touched the mechanism at the bottom, and with a bang, the huge stone door slowly opened, and the faint light escaped through the gap, and the dust was everywhere.

In a moment, the stone door was fully opened, and a whole new space was created.

In the old days, every castle had a basement built underneath it, which was used for different purposes, whether it was used to store wine and spare things, or used as a dungeon for imprisonment, or used as experiments by alchemists who considered themselves otherworldly, or simply to hide a secret.

This Brown Castle has two chambers, one is known, and the other is as mysterious and unknown as the owner of this castle.

Walking through a long and narrow tunnel to the basement, half the size of a football field, and that's just the beginning.

In the basement, all kinds of bronzes and alchemy equipment were crooked, messy, and a mess. The walls were covered with bullet holes on the copper table, and the corners were still marked by the heat melting, but there was not a single fragment of bullets on the ground, and the air was filled with a pungent smell of mercury.

She covered her nose and continued to walk inside, passing through a tunnel again, the connected chamber was not as spacious as before, and there were several bronze pillars in the basement, and the fine pliers, silver syringes and other tools placed on the side also explained its function.

Walking further, the iron dungeons on both sides were wide open, and the smell of mercury was also there.

Finally, in front of her was a stone bridge, under which it was like an abyss, but there was the sound of running water. She was a little hesitant, and every step of the way made her feel heavy, as if her heart was in the abyss.

At the end of the stone bridge, a richly decorated arch was in ruins, and she walked through it and stopped.

A circular space with a tapered top upwards. It was not built in a basement, but above it was a mountain, and such a project could not be completed by human beings at all, only by natural ingenuity.

Stepping inside, the whole space is filled with all kinds of flowers, each one is so stunning that no one can name them, no one has ever seen them.

On the side of the ring, a small waterfall is formed, and the water from the mountains flows down to nourish the area. A few rays of white light shone down from the cracks in the stone at the top, and the mist of the waterfall and the light dust in the air swirled and fluttered lightly.

In the middle of the ring, a sarcophagus is clustered by flowers, and the lid of the coffin is tilted to one side. In the coffin, there is only a bent waist flower left, and the bright red will wither.

She paused among the flowers, and for a moment she untied her veil and paced to the sarcophagus, her legs on her side, sitting upright.

She hugged the sarcophagus with one hand, leaned her side face against the lid of the coffin, and caressed it with the other, as if listening to her lover's whisper.

The sadness in his eyes was like a mourner.

The light slanted on the side of her face, as white as the moon, and the thin lips were frighteningly red.

This morbid beauty does not seem to exist in the world.

"Looks like she's the only one who can get you back." The appearance of the man was silent, but it broke the peace and tranquility.

She didn't seem surprised, still caressing the sarcophagus, as if there was still the body temperature of the other side under her cheeks.

"She's so beautiful, so beautiful, so unique. She makes every drop of rain so rare. But lonelier than any of us, I had seen her in the fog, and I wanted to break them and take her away. She was clinging, and her tone was mournful. I heard her say, take me, please don't leave me in this cold place. But I was afraid, and I didn't resist whatever they said. ”

She plucked a dark green rose and set it in front of her. "I said to myself, it's all my fault, I can only hide my eyes with the lonely rose and deceive myself." She said this like a poet who sings about sorrow, a singer who sings about grief.

It's just that this grievance, true and deep, permeates the chest cavity and accumulates resentment in the eye sockets. Whoever can write can also praise.

"Open the door of your heart, and I will take you out of those calamities." The man spoke, but his deep, magnetic voice was a little stiff.

"You called me naïve and told me to leave, and your words are set in stone." She turned her head suddenly, her scarlet eyes fixed on the man under the door. "Maybe you're just as scared!"

The man's white curly hair was neatly groomed, his cold face, angular outline, short black whisker, and deep eyes were like torches. A pure white high neck, a complicated chest knot, and a bright red rose match the heart. The costume of the classical aristocracy, with a shiny black robe and cloak on the shoulders, and a half-high collar hanging low, revealing the scarlet underneath.

Again, pale.

"Noble Prince of Transylvania, son of the dragon, Earl of Brownburg? Even if you can speak the language of other countries, won't you lower your status? Her tone was a little sarcastic, and her eyes were disdainful.

"The years have changed for me, at least for my old feudal thinking, I am too pedantic, and I have to change too much to adapt to this era. There must be a reason why the world will write the last history of China, in this case, isn't it right to master the language of this country, I am not standard enough? It was still a stiff tone, and his face was still expressionless.

She leaned over again, as if she didn't want to continue the topic, and then looked sideways, "You still let her go after all, you know that the storm is coming." She paused, as if choked. Do you know, why? ”

"Because the storm is coming." The man replied, "They have empty coffins, but the scabbard is not complete until it has a body." Yes, she is so beautiful that every drop of rain becomes rare. I have never seen such a beautiful heir, even if there are so many flaws, but it makes her more perfect, the blood, the memory, can not change her in the slightest, but make her more pure. The man became more and more excited, and his tone couldn't help but tremble slightly, "I want to take her for myself, but I don't even have the courage to touch her, yes, as you said, I am also afraid, in this world, there is only one thing that can make me afraid." ”

"Who took her?" She asked.

"The Fire Stealer, the Sage of the World, the One Who Calls Himself Prometheus. Perhaps they will be the last hope before the dawn. The man reverted to his previous stiffness, his face expressionless. Whoever it is, as soon as she leaves here, the wheel of fortune turns. ”

"Hope? If the dawn is greeted by more endless darkness. You also know that the eternal night is coming. ”

"No one knows better than I do. Tinder is only valuable in people's hands, and their deep dark future needs her to illuminate. He raised his head slightly, "Besides, even if the eternal night is approaching, is there anyone who knows the night better than we do?" ”

"People are greedy, and their endless desires simply can't make good use of her." Her tone was mixed with resentment.

"That's what they're cocooning themselves with, and our eyes are too far-reaching, but that's not all." The man wrapped himself in his cloak and turned to leave.

"Judging from the traces left outside, there is only one person who stole the fire!" She hurriedly stopped him.

"What? What are you worried about. ”

"Once you leave here, the old waiters will definitely be attracted to her, those things are not something that Prometheus can deal with, do you want her to be taken away by those monsters?" She was rare, a little flustered.

"I imprisoned her eyes, the breath oozing out is not enough to attract many shadows, or come, let those ignorant people know what faith is." With that, he dissipated into the air, silently. "Have fun with your roses."

"Can I go after her?"

"Anytime."

"But it's a rare good weather, let's come up and have a cup of tea first, and enjoy the upcoming rainstorm, above the rain curtain, there is also the scene of starfall." He was nowhere to be seen, but his voice still echoed.

“Iquiteagree，YourMajesty。 VladDracula。 She stared at the flowers in the coffin, then slowly got up.

Without her, the flowers also dimmed.

In the depths of the chamber, ancient languages are engraved with admonitions and prophecies:

In times of wind and rain, the long night is coming. The night of the stars, the time of eternal night.

The last chapter, engraved with his scarlet name.

Vlad Dracula.