[Blood...]

Thick whispers from the Lord of Skulls lingered in the sea of souls, violent scarlet shadows looming over the waves of subspace, and monstrous brass thrones forged of brass and lava above the shadows cast by the mountains of skulls that destroyed reason.

In the roar that echoed in the boundless ocean of the highest heavens, the power of destruction spat out eight syllables and eight words through an ancient and unknown language.

The true meaning of the obscure phrase that fuses it into is only one short word: blood.

In an instant, the sulfur scattered over the mountain of corpses and the sea of blood was blown away by the majestic aura of the power of destruction.

At this moment, the murder and mutilation that spread throughout the realm of terror ceased, and the countless bloodlets, and all kinds of ancient demons that roamed the path of corpses on the flaming plains were silenced, and the great will of the blood god caused his servants to be terrified all the time, and to accumulate a murderous ferocity that was more angry and insane than in every previous war.

The Bloodthirsty Demons were shaken by the roar of their masters, and the terrible screams of the cowardly were no longer emitted from the crimson rivers of bloody magma, the endless wind-dried corpses hanging from the execution racks had stopped the whispers of the despicables, and all symbols of the wrathful will of the power of destruction had come to a stand.

Together with the eight chains in the Abyssal Prison, the Sadistic Demon Salam, who had been executed with eighty-eight sharp axes and sentenced to eight hundred and eighty-eight years, also stopped roaring in pain, just as the eight execution demons with sharp axes in their hands were in a state of stupor, because their profane bodies born of the Blood God's will had been completely shaken by His voice, and the power of thought had also been lost under the shock.

And those terrible demons who pointed at the endless multiple chaos demon army of eight still had the ability to think, but these still had the ability to think, but these still had the ability to think, but it was difficult for them to understand the sacred whispers of the blood god.

They could clearly feel the infinite anger that almost condensed into substance in the sky above the brass fortress.

After the banishment of Scarbrand, who had once been the favorite of the Blood God, from the Sadistic Domain, the Sadistic Archdemon never felt the wrath and bloodlust of the Blood God again—even though his endless fury symbolized the bloodthirsty tongues of fire rising in the scorched abyss, devouring all the cowardly souls at all times.

Each whisper of the Blood God symbolizes the endless flow of blood, the murder of the Ganges sand will spread across every world, the stars will be burned by His wrath, the sea of souls will be boiled by His will, and every roar on the Brass Throne will pierce the veil of reality, stirring war across the galaxy.

He tasted every war of the past, and He looked forward to every battle in the future.

A steady stream of hatred and anger burns like a brilliant flame in the bellows, forging a razor-sharp axe forged from brass.

The Blood God's gaze was on all murders and duels, and anyone could hear His roaring laughter.

It's like a long-awaited feast.

Before the veil of the Supreme Heaven was completely lifted by this violent momentum, the lilac form was the first to appear in his vision, and the blood god could clearly feel the unspeakable filthy depravity that was moving along the waves of time, and hysterical pleasure and torture were lurking in the holy war, and six twisted corpses capable of tearing reason were thrown into it.

In an instant, the souls that were howling in the sea of blood were burned with the wrath of the Skull Lord—it was clear that the appearance of the Prince of Pleasure had made him extremely angry.

But the turbulent waves of the supreme sky never stopped, and then the demon body emerged an indigo bird feather, in the vast and long web of fate, the sound of the bird's beak plucking was incomparably clear, he was constantly peeking at the infinite change, but the direction of the unknown fate, the treacherous whisper mixed with nine lamentations everywhere.

At the end of a tragic story that is difficult to peep into, the feathers slowly fall down.

At last, the deep green breath of decay and filth spread, and his gentle breath revealed a dead silence like a dying wood, and seven desperate murmurs came from the ancient courtyard, and the life that spread through the garden was just as alive as His call, moistened by the plague in the filthy rain, and the numb hoarse whispers were always mixed with the sticky sound of maggots wriggling in the pus.

His lament is eternal, and His mercy remains the same.

In the midst of eight roars of rage that almost set off a tsunami in the sea of souls, the will of the blood god was revealed.

He does not allow holy holy wars to be twisted by wickedness, nor does he allow any filth and depravity to taint into His prey.

She's the blood god's favorite trophy.

His wrath is incomparable, and the boiling waves of his soul symbolize the majestic wrath of the most ferocious being in the Most High Heaven.

The brass axe that could easily destroy the entire realm of sadomasochism was lifted high by him: the shadow of the giant axe blade as immeasurable as a mountain nearly obscured the scarlet sky, any dazzling light dimmed in the face of the blood god's almost embodied wrath, and the blood and runes of the mighty that flowed above the sharp axe blade shone brightly, no matter how you describe it—the supreme glory on the brass throne, the sharp and crazy endless roar, the murder and hatred that permeated the entire physical universe, Or the terrible anger of the Blood God that burns all the time in the long river of time.

It is the embodiment of destruction.

Under the horrified gaze of all the demons, his burning anger and bloodlust condensed into a scarlet glow that crossed the heavens and the earth, and faintly visible pale purple and indigo shadows flickered on the other side of fate, and after that, the dark green figure seemed to let out some kind of sigh, and also avoided the sharp and uncontrollable anger of the blood god.

However, in front of the majestic axe, which was difficult to measure by size, was an incomparably faint golden shadow.

It was smaller than any light in the Sadistic Domain, but it was more condensed than the other figures.

His relentless gaze from a distant, distorted future is like the violent gaze of the Blood God looking back at the distant Golden Throne.

The icy golden flame is his true symbol.

- The Fire Stealer.

The low roar of the Blood God echoed through the High Heavens.

They are all very familiar with the stubborn corpse that is still on the Golden Throne.

In an instant, from the perspective of not knowing whether it was the past, the present, or the future, the existence of the entire field of terror was completely torn apart.

The scorched earth plains cast on the corpses had been torn apart in a collision of forces that were difficult to describe in words.

The majestic sea of blood poured down from the great chasm, pouring straight into the chaotic sea of souls, driving the psionics of the eight hundred and eighty-eight worlds into madness, the eighty-eight demon worlds being wiped out in the collision, and even the brass fortress forged by the skull eight times.

In the sea of souls, the shallow veil of the past and the future is slowly torn open - from which a scarlet and strong figure emerges.

The blood god's anger gradually subsided with the appearance of the loot.

However, when He saw the conspicuous Butcher's Spike on the skull of that majestic figure, the sea of souls boiled hot lava again.

He knew that the damned carrion must have done it, and that the carrion had pulled something over as the wrath of his roaming time drove it back to the present and tore apart the chorus engine of the future.

The slave named Angron.

But...

The Blood God never cared about the number of slaves.

Small setbacks don't matter anymore, and the undesirable loot... It can also be recycled.

In the skull-lord's ferocious gaze that traverses the past and the future, his prey still roams the sea of souls.

A grand war is coming, more blood will be shed, and more killings will be concluded.

And the blood god never cares who the blood comes from.

Including Himself.

……

……