Two hours ago, the Hasarod Prison was the same as usual. The prison guards stayed at their posts and the criminals were waiting for their death.
In the prison sergeant's office, Harder was lying on his desk bored.
"Sir Sheriff, I heard that it only took you a few months to get to this position. You are really outstanding."
Next to Hard, there was a girl who was sorting out documents and said with admiration. This girl is Hard's secretary, named Carat.
"Me? Excellent? It's just luck."
Harder lit a cigarette and sat back at his desk. Because of Weir, his promotion was like riding on a rocket, rising to great heights. From the day he first met Weir to today's prison chief, everything was like It's a dream.
"I don't know how she is doing."
Hader glanced at the patterned ring next to him, which was a gift given to him by Weir a few days ago. He knew that judging from his current situation, Weir must be better off.
Boom!
Just as Hader was indulging in memories, a sudden explosion sounded from outside the prison.
Hader subconsciously knocked the button next to him, and the alarm bell rang throughout the Hasarod Prison.
"It's the Blood God Cult!"
Hard stamped out his cigarette and quickly walked out of the office. His eyes were fixed on the prison door, and a pair of blood-stained eyes came into view.
"Chief Harder, the warden is out, what should we do?"
Clara spoke tremblingly, she was just a little secretary and any prison guard could beat her up if they wanted to fight.
"Escape as fast as you can! Escape to the Royal Capital Procuratorate!"
…
In Hazarod, outside the gate, a young man in a bloody robe raised his hand with an expressionless expression, and a prison guard's head was crushed out of thin air by him.
"Blood-robed Archbishop, Daler!"
A prison guard recognized the young man. Every blood-robed bishop in the kingdom had his own wanted order, and he was full of cards.
Daler did not speak when he heard the words, but raised his hand and continued to make feints. The prison guard's body was as straight as a piece of wood, as straight as a piece of wood. His figure seemed to be controlled by an invisible big hand. He rose into the air and floated in front of Daler, his expression on his face. It was flushed because Dahle was controlling the blood of the prison guards.
"Where's Milan?"
Dalle spoke coldly, and as the raised hand gradually became empty, the prison guard's body began to twist like a twist, and his wide-open eyes were filled with bloodshot eyes, as if they were about to be squeezed out of their sockets.
"I do not know."
Click!
Before the prison guard could finish speaking, Dalle made a fist with one hand and completely twisted the prison guard into a knot.
"Then you're useless."
After speaking, under the control of Dalle, the twisted corpse of the prison guard was hung in the air as a deterrent.
"Your Majesty Bishop, all the prison guards are gathering underground. Prince Milan may be there."
A moment later, a black-robed bishop knelt down beside Dalle. At this time, nearly a hundred twisted corpses hung above his head. Blood dripped down the corpses, like a bloody hell.
Upon hearing this, Dalle nodded with satisfaction, and with the support of all the believers, he slowly walked towards the underground level.
…
A few minutes later, the underground room on the first floor became a bloody purgatory.
Dalle raised his hand and made a fist, crushing the head of a prison guard on the ground. Blood spilled all over the floor. The basement was almost covered with such headless corpses.
"Can't it be delayed even for an hour?"
Hard, suspended in mid-air, struggled violently unwillingly, but under the absolute strength, the struggle seemed so feeble.
"Those who are powerless will eventually become cannon fodder for their faith."
Dalle clenched his palms, and after a violent clicking sound, Harder became one of his comrades.
"Come out, I know you can at least still move."
Dalle looked at the single cell in the basement and spoke in a deep voice. Milan, who was bleeding from his neck, slowly walked out of the shadow of the cell with a gloomy expression.
"When I was purging the prison guards, you tried to slit your wrists twice, hang yourself once, and commit suicide once. It seems you betrayed me after all."
Dalle spoke in a deep voice, his tone extremely helpless. The eldest prince Milan was once his most admired partner. If the other party did not choose to betray, he would not even mind the identity of the eldest prince of the other kingdom.
"You have deceived me so far and you still want to continue deceiving me? You are a rat in the gutter."
Milan said coldly, he has an almost immortal body, or for him, there is no concept of death at all.
"It's useless to say more. This is your own choice, and you will naturally have to bear the corresponding price."
As soon as Daler finished speaking, he saw him raising his hand to hold it empty. Under the control of the blood, Milan flew into the air without the slightest ability to resist.
Under Daler's guidance, Milan's skin began to ooze black blood. This is the secret of Milan's immortality.
"Someone will... stop you."
After all the black blood was drained, Milan used his last bit of strength and gritted his teeth.
Then, Milan's figure began to shrink, and finally turned into a palm-sized doll and fell to the ground.
"I'll wait and see."
Dalle looked at Milan who had turned into a doll, spoke with a cold tone, and turned around to leave.
…
On the outskirts of the royal capital, outside the Hasarod Prison, Tire, who was wrapped in bandages, looked angrily at the death and injury report in his hand.
"212 prison guards died, how dare the Blood God Cult be so outrageous!"
Tyr, who was wrapped in bandages, roared angrily regardless of his still recovering injuries. "Hazarod Prison" held serious criminals, and it was a prison under the Procuratorate.
This is no longer a slap in the face, but a kick to the ground and then spitting in your face.
"This incident is very likely to be led by the blood-robed bishop. Otherwise, I can't think of anyone who can conquer the Hasarod Prison in such a short period of time."
Peggy put down the paper and pen in her hand with a solemn expression. It was only less than an hour's drive from the Royal Capital Procuratorate to Hasarod Prison. If a person with a high speed ran at full speed, the time would be even shorter.
"We can only make a decision after the dean arrives."
Peggy took off her glasses and squeezed her fingers tiredly. Ever since Ye Hui took over the Procuratorate, bad events that were usually rare in ten years have occurred one after another, and he has become somewhat overwhelmed.
After a while, Ye Hui led Weier to the gate of the prison with a gloomy expression.
The first people to catch sight were Till and Peggy. Behind them were a group of inspectors wearing protective suits.
"Who can explain in detail what happened?"
Ye Hui frowned, knowing that the eldest prince Milan was still in Hasarod Prison, waiting for the final trial.
"The Blood-robed Bishop led a team to attack Hazarod Prison. Now Milan is missing. It is very likely that the Blood God Cult's target is him."
Peggy, whose eyes showed a little tiredness, came to Ye Hui with a series of written reports and briefly described the current situation.
"Is Milan missing?"
Ye Hui copied the report in his hand, spoke in a deep voice, and looked sideways at Weier. He had asked Weier to mark the eldest prince Milan. If he could find the trace of the eldest prince, everything would be solved.
"Milan's mark has dissipated, I guess..."
Wei Er was about to speak but stopped. The principle of the blood mark is to mark the characteristics of blood. Now there is only one possibility for dissipation, that is, Milan is dead.
Ye Hui understood the meaning and walked slowly into the prison. He also wanted to see what the scene was like inside, but was blocked by the procuratorate.
(End of chapter)