Lust System: Conquering the World Beauties
Chapter 226 Bloodfire Fang Effect

Chapter 226: Chapter 226 Bloodfire Fang Effect

Lana finally reached Liam. Her boots skidded against the asphalt as she dropped beside him, her breath ragged and her heart thundering in her chest. "Liam!" she screamed, kneeling beside his limp body.

His shirt was drenched in blood, clinging to his skin in wet tatters. She grabbed the shredded fabric and yanked it upward, her fingers trembling. And then she saw it—the dagger.

The Bloodfire Fang was still buried in his side, glowing brighter than before. Its pulsating red core was alive with molten energy, as if feeding off Liam’s pain, drawing power from his suffering.

"No, no, no..." she whispered in horror.

Without hesitation, she grabbed the dagger’s hilt. It burned her palm, but she ignored the searing pain. With a desperate cry, she yanked it out.

Liam groaned loudly, his body twitching violently as the dagger slid free. Blood gushed out in a thick stream, and his upper body collapsed forward against her. The sudden weight made Lana stumble backward until she was sitting on the ground, Liam draped across her lap.

He wasn’t just bleeding—he was dying. His skin had already lost color, pale and clammy. His body trembled in short bursts. His breath came in strained, shallow gasps. His limbs felt like they had no strength left. Every now and then, his fingers twitched unconsciously, as if his nerves were spasming.

"Liam... stay with me," she whispered, holding his face gently with one blood-streaked hand. "Please..."

Then came footsteps. Heavy. Sluggish.

Two of Boris’s remaining guards approached from the shadows, their black armor glinting dully in the moonlight. Without a word, they took their place beside Boris and helped him up, one arm slung over each shoulder. He was a mess—bloody, broken, and barely holding himself together. But even in that state, there was a dark satisfaction in his eyes.

Boris raised his head and locked his gaze on Lana.

"You’re wasting your time," he said weakly, but the smugness in his voice was unmistakable. "Nothing... can save him now."

Lana’s lips parted, but no words came out. She stared at Boris, trembling, her heart refusing to accept what he was saying.

Boris chuckled, each sound making him wince. "He’ll live... for a while. Maybe weeks. Maybe less. But every second will be agony." He coughed blood, but didn’t stop. "His insides will burn... like molten iron. His soul will blister. His body will scream. You’ll watch him die slowly... helplessly."

The words struck Lana harder than a physical blow. Each sentence felt like a knife twisting into her chest. She looked down at Liam. He was still breathing—but barely. And he was shivering now, even though the night wasn’t cold. His lips were pale and slightly open, whispering breathless murmurs she couldn’t understand.

She saw it. The way his hands clenched feebly, the way his jaw tensed in unconscious reaction to the internal torture already beginning. The Bloodfire Fang’s poison was working.

Tears stung Lana’s eyes. She had never felt like this.

Boris watched her silently for a moment longer, and then slowly turned his head to Ann. His voice was even weaker now, but it still carried an undeniable command.

"You’re released," he said.

Ann flinched. Her head snapped up, eyes widening as the words struck something deep inside her.

Boris gave her one final glance. Then the guards beside him turned to a blur, vanishing into the dark. Boris disappeared along with them—silent, fast, and gone without a trace.

Just like that, they were gone. All of them.

Only three people remained in the eerie silence of the blood-soaked forest clearing: Lana. Liam. Ann.

For a moment, time stood still.

Lana cradled Liam’s head in her lap, brushing blood-matted hair from his forehead as she whispered broken pleas. She pressed her hands to his wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but the damage was too deep. It wasn’t just the blood loss—it was the poison. It was killing him from the inside out.

Ann stood frozen. She stared down at her own hands, the crimson fluid coating her fingers like wet paint. It was still warm. Still fresh.

Liam’s blood.

Memories slammed into her like a flood. She remembered how she stepped behind him in silence, the dagger glowing in her grip. She remembered the way his body tensed when she stabbed him, how he turned to look at her—not in rage, not even in betrayal. Just confusion. Hurt. His eyes weren’t angry....

And she’d looked him dead in the eye and shown nothing.

No emotion.

No hesitation.

Just... emptiness.

That was the worst part.

She fell to her knees. Her legs had given out, unable to bear the weight of what she’d done. Her palms hit the earth, and she remained there—kneeling, staring at the ground, tears sliding silently down her cheeks. Her shoulders trembled. Her breath hitched.

"I didn’t... I didn’t want to..." she whispered to no one, her voice cracking.

Lana turned her head slightly. She saw Ann now, broken, crying. But her attention returned to Liam quickly, because his condition was getting worse by the second.

He wasn’t speaking anymore. Just shaking. Barely conscious.

"Stay with me," Lana whispered again, her hands cupping his cheeks. "Don’t you dare die, Liam. Don’t you dare."

He didn’t respond.

His eyes fluttered, then closed. His lips parted, but only blood came out.

"No, no—wake up!" she begged, tapping his face gently. "Please..."

Silence.

A loud engine growled in the distance before a sleek black car came to a screeching stop in front of them. Its headlights flared in the darkness, flooding the forest clearing with harsh, blinding white light.

Lana instinctively raised a hand to shield her eyes, squinting through her blood-smeared fingers.

Ann didn’t move. She didn’t even flinch. Her eyes remained locked on Liam, whose head still lay limp in Lana’s lap. Her hands were still trembling, still stained with his blood. She didn’t dare move closer. She didn’t deserve to.

The sound of heels striking earth broke the heavy silence. Sharp. Rapid. Purposeful.

A tall, elegant silhouette cut through the light, casting a long shadow over the three of them.

Ella.

She stepped forward, her crimson coat flaring behind her, eyes sharp as blades. And when she saw them—saw Liam’s bloodied, unconscious body lying in Lana’s arms—her breath caught in her throat.

But she didn’t waste time asking questions.

She rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside Lana. Not a single word was said as she assessed the damage with a glance.

Without hesitation, she slipped her arms under Liam’s torso. "Get him to the car," she said, voice tight and low. "Now."

Lana nodded quickly, her eyes wide, still glazed with fear. Together, they lifted Liam’s near-lifeless body, Ella’s strength and urgency guiding every movement.

Ann remained on the ground, unmoving, still staring.

She hadn’t even blinked.

And the car door swung open with a heavy thud, its interior glowing faintly red.

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