Super Righteous Player
Chapter 641 - 182 Sacrifice of Flesh and Blood_1

Chapter 641: Chapter 182 Sacrifice of Flesh and Blood_1

Apart from the five standing here,

there were two others standing far at the other end.

The one in front was a cute boy who looked to be only seven or eight years old. He had soft, brown hair and skin so delicately fair it seemed to carry the scent of milk, as if it had never been touched by the sun, reminiscent of a doll. He was dressed in a formal little suit complete with a bow tie.

Behind him was a hunched-over old man.

He appeared exceedingly old—not to the extent of the boy’s grandfather, but rather like a great-grandfather. The old man seemed so aged that he was half a step into the grave... as though a single fall would prevent him from ever getting up again. It wouldn’t have been surprising if he died at any moment.

What they had in common were their fully-encasing gloves... and the identical crimson of their pupils.

——They matched the intense crimson of Jiu’er at this very moment.

"Lord Barney, and Lord Jacob."

The saint greeted them with a warm and polite nod, "Pleased to meet you."

...Is this the so-called "Hand of Sand Brothers"?

Lin Yiyi was suddenly taken aback.

Is this truly a pair of biological brothers?

With such a vast age difference, it would feel off even if they were described as grandfather and grandson.

——Because even for a grandfather and grandson, the age gap shouldn’t be so stark.

And as the voice of "the one who stood in opposition" faded,

another thunderous boom erupted from Jiu’er.

The first thunderclap summoned the Blood Cup’s Mouth.

The second summoned them to this crimson Otherworld.

And as the third thunderclap sounded,

the dark red sun in the sky began to drip blood, drop by drop.

It started as a very thin stream before quickly thickening. The dark red "sun" now resembled a bottle’s neck, tilted over to continuously pour out something downward... or rather, spill inward.

After this, Jiu’er’s heart no longer produced the sound of thunderclap.

She simply looked up, intently gazing at the immense black sun above the firmament. Her eyes were hollow and dark red, as if the Blood Cup’s Mouth was reflected on the bottom of her pupils.

If one looked closely, the area of the crimson prairie they were standing on wasn’t very large.

It was roughly the size of two soccer fields.

And the flowing dark red "blood," which from afar might not seem like much, landed on the ground like a waterfall, violently crashing down and splashing blood froth mixed with white foam.

The sticky blood plasma, fragrant with a hint of citrus, soon submerged the ground.

The saint’s feet seemed to grow from the ground—he stood motionless as the blood flowed towards him.

"[Forbidden Ritual: The Heaven within the Cup]... Impressive as always, Miss Walden."

The young boy didn’t panic at the sight; he simply chuckled, "Quite the identical approach. I’m actually a little scared."

"But wasn’t it you who actively sought us out?"

Henry Walden didn’t make a move either, but instead spoke amicably across a river of blood to the "brother" duo, one old and one young.

His words, however, were not so friendly: "If you’re scared, shouldn’t you be wetting your pants and screaming for your mother, scurrying away together, brothers?"

"Running away in front of you would be pointless. After all, you are the demon that can steal all of one’s desires just by devouring them..."

The boy looked leisurely at the battered saint, his tone turning venomous: "I wonder how much of you now... is still actually you?"

"One thousand percent, all me," the saint answered without hesitation.

As the blood soaked the earth, he no longer showed any doubt.

He didn’t even raise a hand—

In an instant, it was as if the entire world came alive.

From the blood beneath the feet of the saint, countless thorny vines burst forth, blanketing and advancing toward the two figures across from him.

As those vines neared them, half transformed into sharp spears, while the remaining ones approached from every direction as if to grasp them in their hold.

The blood beneath the legs and feet of the Hand of Sand brothers clung to them like a water demon, seizing them tightly.

Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom—

Though they seemed to be soft and slender vines, when they turned into spears and shot forth, they produced a thunderous roar.

Despite the distance of several hundred meters, the ground still trembled thunderously.

It was only then that Lin Yiyi finally understood why the saint had thrown the enemies so far away...

Otherwise, the AOE alone might have affected them.

"Give me your life, Barney!"

The boy issued an immature yet piercingly shrill cry.

The old man simply nodded in submission, showing no sign of objection, "No problem, brother..."

Then the rain of red spears fell.

The ground was bombarded until it collapsed, and visible cracks emerged from all directions, the surface undulating like floating islands, with fountains of blood spurting from the crevices.

And the Blood Hand brothers were now submerged in the continuous roar of those impacts.

—So it turned out the smaller one was the brother, huh?

Lin Yiyi crouched on the ground, hugging her head, while such a thought popped up in her mind.

She had originally thought that she might be able to go up and lend a hand... but after seeing the Saint release the first move of the battle, she realized.

—She might not be quite up to the task.

It was as if the whole world had come to life.

From deep within the earth erupted fountains of blood plasma.

From the sky fell rivers of blood like waterfalls.

And all this blood was under the control of Henry Walden—forming into any shape he desired at will.

The scene where a hundred thousand javelins flew simultaneously was just the beginning.

That attack, powerful enough to pulverize each of them, was merely a probe to the Blood Hand brothers.

An unknown, invisible force tore the rain of red spears apart from the middle—and it was only then that they finally saw the Blood Hand brothers’ posture.

And they understood what they meant when they had said, "Give me your life."

They truly were Gold-level fallers—which meant complete demonization.

A few tentacles emerged from the boy’s neck, reaching into the seven orifices of the old man behind him. The boy’s eyes, gleaming with red light, grew even brighter.

As he reached out his right hand towards the Saint.

In the air, countless hands of air materialized.

Some were childlike, some as old as the elderly; some appeared to be men’s hands, rough and powerful, while others were as delicate and fair as women’s. It was precisely because of the great river of blood that these air-formed hands became distinctly visible.

With just a glance, Xitan Pulan could see the curses and hatred contained within those "blood hands."

—They were the "hands" taken by the Blood Hand brothers after killing their victims.

Yes.

Their mutated parts were not "blood"... but "hands."

The ability to take the "hands" of those they had killed... and use any medium to recreate and control them.

Without warning, the ground beneath the Saint cracked.

The hands made from soil gripped his legs firmly—just as the Saint had done to them. And the hands formed from air, like iron clamps, clutched the Saint’s neck and snapped it in the blink of an eye.

However, the Saint was completely indifferent to his injuries.

He didn’t even care about his snapped neck or his crushed lower legs by the Hand of Sand.

Rather... as he was injured, the world suddenly erupted in rage.

The movements of the numerous waves of blood abruptly sped up several times—as if put on triple speed. The sudden acceleration without warning allowed the liquid to break through the invisible hands’ defenses.

Then they surged up, gathering high like tidal waves.

They crashed down from above—and the hands of air, like hands in prayer, came together in front of the wave, attempting to split it down the middle.

The blood wave was directly cleaved in half.

But as it collapsed to each side, countless sharp spears emerged from within. Like ancient instruments of torture, they aimed to thrash the enemy to pieces from the inside—

And the moment they neared the enemy, they suddenly converged like snapping jaws, biting down on the two people in the middle!

In the blink of an eye, the Saint took a firm grasp on the advantage, pitted one against two.

This was a battle that completely surpassed the players’ imaginations.

They understood.

Why the Saint would be called a "monster."

It was not a collective of blades.

But a monster that grew at will, specifically targeting the enemy, an unbeatable existence... It needed no head, no limbs, no skeleton, no viscera. It was the "arbitrary growth" beyond common sense.

No matter the shape—so long as it continued to grow in size, it would eventually become an unstoppable "phenomenon" like hurricanes, tsunamis.

—This is the power of "Sacrificial Flesh and Blood," the Holy Corpse.

It was not so much a divine power... but a cursed power.

Lin Yiyi finally realized why the Saint had had Jiu’er perform the forbidden ritual to summon them to the realm of "Blood Cup’s Mouth."

If those rivers of blood were in the outside world, the entire city would probably be churned in and become part of the river of blood.

If one day the desert could come to life and awaken... it would probably look something like this.

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