Lucian's eyes used to be green.
It was like the finest emeralds embedded in those eye sockets. Whenever those eyes looked at others, they seemed to be smiling.
A smile that is either gentle or proud.
Now... the emerald green melted and was dyed with other colors. His eyes were two pools of wine red.
The two pools of wine red are full of ripples, making people want to see...
They looked frightened or in tears.
Because of his tears, because of his pain... Just because of his tears, just because of his painful appearance.
The blood moon shone on Vader's body. The bone mask covered half of his face, but the exposed silver eyes were bright and hot.
He couldn't control his tremors.
He remembered the expression of the young Lucian in the manor when he was talking with his adoptive uncle, looking at the wild rose bush, seeing him and smiling at him. He remembered the cold expression of Lucian on the tower when he was nailed to the hands and feet and thrown into exile. He remembered the expression of Lucian in the temple when he bit down, as if everything was out of control and he could only tremble in his arms...
He thought back to the time when he was in exile and accidentally entered the territory of the Undead.
The land of the undead tribe is filled with only darkness, a pale moon, white sand, dark swamps, and cold winds. Countless dark stone towers stand in the endless wilderness, like large tombs.
That is all the scenery of the Undead.
Countless undead souls are sleeping in the swamp, and even the white sand is not safe. There may be hidden swamps, or sand vortices that flow and rotate from time to time and sweep people into an unknown place underground, or there may be hidden predator undead souls.
This is a place where the strong prey on the weak, and the only things that can warm the cold are blood and death.
He sat on the sand dune, stroking his newly formed bone mask. The undead who had just tried to sneak attack him but was killed by him and was also wearing a bone mask said that only the highest level of undead could condense the most exquisite bone mask.
The undead killed the undead's priest and took away the holy object that the undead were fighting for. Wade lowered his head and looked at the wind chime in his hand that he had crushed.
Before dying, the undead said that no one could fuse that drop of blood. All non-undead creatures who swallowed it would turn into silent gray mud. All undead who supported themselves with a strong belief in killing would turn into monsters who only knew how to kill and ultimately gained extreme pleasure in the process of killing themselves.
That drop of divine blood had already entered his chest. When it returned, the blood of the fallen god that had just awakened due to death joyfully told him that this authority originally belonged to him.
Your ancestor was once the God of Creation. He gave light, darkness, life and death. He created ten major races with the power of reproduction, opened up space and gave them different habitats, and promised them the power to become new gods. But those lowly creatures were not satisfied. For the power of God, they devoured Him, divided Him, slandered Him as a fallen god, separated and took away the blood condensed from His authority, and shamelessly called it a holy object, just to prevent His resurrection...
You are the blood of the true God, you were born with the mission to become a God, you do not belong to any race! Your mission is to retrieve these ten drops of blood, reclaim this world, and return from hell to Nirvana!
The divine blood transformed his body, injecting a large amount of knowledge and power into his body. The world before his eyes also changed accordingly.
He looked at the world with indifference and realized that he had leaped to another perspective of looking at the world.
Gray, black and white, life, death, inorganic matter... everything is so boring.
That is the gaze of the god who controls death.
His former friends, former enemies, stupid people… all turned into another kind of creature, a gray creature different from him. The gods could take their lives at will, but they would not feel happy to crush insects.
In the intense feeling that was about to sweep him to the other side of the scale of nature and cause him to lose control and become a horrible gray mud, he suddenly saw a little bright red.
Lucian.
It was Lucian's blood... and flesh.
The gray young man began to tremble.
I couldn't stop trembling with excitement.
He wanted to cut open his body and see the burning red.
At that moment, all consciousness and balance returned. The black-haired young man looked up indifferently, and black mist surrounded him, repairing the wounds on his body.
The silver-gray faded from his eyes, eventually turning into the scarlet red of the Fallen Angel's bloodline.
He finally completed the first fusion and became a monster with scarlet eyes.
Wade pushed open the door. The curtains were half-closed, and he saw Lucian bathing in the blood-red moonlight.
His enemy, his adopted cousin, the "companion" who had accompanied him throughout his youth, the bond that carried all his murderous intent and hatred as a human being.
But now he is just a soulless body, a prisoner in his palm, relying only on his blood to maintain his immortality.
But even so, just the thought of "killing him" is enough to make all the blood vessels excited.
Kill him.
The divine blood surged in his chest.
Kill him... Go kill him! Go see his red, go get that bliss!
Under the blood moon, the black-clad Grim Reaper walked towards his only killing intention. He had imagined his death countless times, imagined himself being torn apart, revealing fear... Under the blood moon of the Undead White Sand Swamp every moment.
On the sofa, the white-haired half-succubus was sleeping soundly. He was unaware of Vader's arrival, nor did he understand the fierce killing intent that was about to be directed at him.
Death smelled a sweet aroma - it almost made him dizzy. He sat down beside him and bowed his head.
He saw the scar.
—The red he needed.
There was a wound across the sole of the succubus's foot. It seemed to be caused by some sharp weapon, and residual blood was oozing out of it. At that moment, he pinched his foot with his hands as if he was possessed.
He could feel the succubus shudder on the couch.
—Is it fear
At that moment, all the excitement finally made him lose his mind. He looked at the wound that came from nowhere and felt angry - it was the wound he should have made on his body!
He is the only one who can leave wounds on his body!
He looked down at the other person again—the beautiful prey that belonged to him.
The deep red magic pattern on the succubus's forehead is eye-catching, but her white hair is so white that it is not stained by dust.
He wants to stain his hair with blood, the silver-eyed Grim Reaper thought.
He will cover him with his wounds.
Where should I start? The neck? The wrist? The knee? The calf? Which bone should I crush first
Mouth, heart, abdomen, spine... Where does he want to see the red first
He will hold this life in his hands, and he will rub it like rubbing a handful of rose petals. The flower juice stains his palms and fingers, like tears and blood, and the strong fragrance also flows out at the moment of destruction.
Flowing into his nose.
The sound of the flowers being destroyed was like his fear and crying.
The silver-eyed Grim Reaper looked at his rose and leaned down. There was no human expression in his eyes, only the other person's face.
He placed his hand on his cheek as if it were a rose petal.
He wondered where to start.
Where to start, feeling the warmth of his blood.
Death thought as the blood moon shone on him.
And those wine-red eyes also opened at this moment.
The wine-red eyes looked at him blankly, as if she didn't understand why he suddenly appeared in front of him.
The Grim Reaper put his five fingers on his head, and with just a little force, his skull would shatter.
There was no fear in those wine-red eyes.
Death placed his hand on his neck, the warm blood beneath the delicate skin, and if he scratched it with his fingernails, his blood would spurt out.
There was no vigilance in those wine-red eyes.
Death leaned over him and placed his hand on his chest through his robe. Under his palm, the half-succubus' heart was beating in his chest. He could see his heart if he just touched it.
There was no avoidance in those wine-red eyes.
He just looked at him, watching his hand pass through all the places that could kill him. In his eyes there was only a little doubt, obedience, trust, and a little bit of joy for that person's return...
Small joys.
Death finally reached his nose.
The blood-red full moon was behind them both.
"Aren't you afraid?" said the silver-eyed Grim Reaper.
The owner of the wine-red eyes did not speak.
His current intelligence was not enough to make him understand the meaning of the other person's words, so he could only look at him blankly. He looked at that cold, emotionless and lifeless face, like a small animal carefully sensing the emotions of its owner, and finally...
As if he had thought of something, he stretched out his hands and put them around his master's neck.
The black-haired young man looked at him expressionlessly.
The succubus did not feel the rejection from the other party. He stared at the person on top of him without blinking. The person looked at him and pressed his thumb against his temple. Finally, the person snorted coldly, as if he had made up his mind, and pressed down again, intending to exert force on his finger...
Then her warm lips pressed against his.
The young man with silver eyes was finally slightly stunned.
The succubus came up, closed her eyes, and began to kiss him. At first it was a careful exploration, and then it was a gentle internal contact - he couldn't help but follow in.
The kiss was lingering and gentle, and everything about it was filled with the fragrance of life. He could smell the scent of the other person's hair and see the slightly trembling, crow-wing-like eyelashes.
He was kissing him and hugging him.
Accept Him with yourself like a sacrifice.
It is lingering and ambiguous, almost sentimental.
At that moment, an idea appeared in the mind of the young man with silver eyes.
It turns out that blood is not the only thing that is warm.
Bleeding entrails aren't the only things that are warm.
His kiss, his mouth... were also warm.
The silver in his pupils gradually faded, replaced by scarlet. The characteristics of undead gradually faded from his body.
He suddenly remembered that he had kissed him the last time he came close to killing him.
It was not a kiss, but a venting bite, a fight between trapped beasts.
But what about now
The succubus, who had full trust in him and had never thought that he would hurt herself, and who had been waiting for his return obediently and joyfully, kissed him actively, acceptingly, and passionately.
His eyes changed from the emerald color when he was still a human to the wine red color now. His black hair turned white, and his pointed ears softened.
He has been transformed into something that belongs only to him.
Wade came back to his consciousness. He held the other's head and focused on the kiss.
He suddenly realized that kissing was more exciting than killing.
He wanted to kill him just like that, just as he had done when he saw Lucian when he returned to the temple with his spear in hand.
Lucian was almost killed by him just now.
But in the end, the person who escaped from him first by death was Lucian himself.
At that moment, he closed his eyes and intensified the kiss that was as warm as blood.
— He unconsciously wanted to confirm again that he existed in his arms.
After this long kiss, he stared at the thing in front of him, which still had its eyes closed and was breathing hard. Finally, he closed his eyes, held him in his arms, and put his head on his shoulder.
The blood moon outside the window gradually faded away, leaving only the bright white full moon.
Where the black-haired young man couldn't see, the red-eyed succubus opened her eyes.
He felt happy about surviving the disaster, and also felt happy about having control over the other party because of his own operation that saved the day.
He let himself be held in his arms, narrowing his eyes and smiling slightly.