C8 White brook's mania

"Right Protector!"

The black-clothed man kowtowed to the woman in red that was walking over from afar. His deafening voice struck White Brook's eardrums, causing him to feel a faint pain.

She tried to open her eyes, but the red shadow in the distance was getting closer and closer to her under the light of the fire. Finally, a pair of red leather boots stopped in front of her, and reached out to touch her acupoints, making her unable to move.

The red figure in front of White Brook instantly became clear. A charming and enchanting face appeared in front of him. In his hand was the dagger that he had dropped when he had first fallen, he carefully examined it.

"Someone, take the blood utensil. Make sure it is full before her life is exhausted. Don't let anyone near this place."

The woman in red reprimanded everyone. She stood in front of White Brook and faintly smiled at her, as if she were admiring her prey.

And then the fingers of her two fingers, which were like green onions, slowly plunged into her middle finger, and the blood trickled like water into the black and mysterious blood vessel. The pain was so intense that at last she felt it all over her fingers, and beads of sweat ran down her ears and wet her dress.

Perhaps it was because the blood vessel had tasted the blood, as if it was a fierce tiger sucking the blood of White Brook. Looking at the blurry figure in front of it, White Brook miserably and bitterly smiled, raising his head to look at the sky.

Heavens, don't play with me like that!

You allowed me to be reborn in this broken ancient era just to make others bleed to death?

No, I, White Brook, have never believed in destiny!

Only believe in yourself!

Taking advantage of the last sliver of consciousness, he used all his might to strike the woman in red's neck, his fingers escaping the terrifying black blood weapon.

"You're courting death!"

The woman in red struck out her palm at White Brook. Before she could react, she pulled out a whip from her waist that was covered in gears and stabbed it into her waist. White Brook couldn't resist this pressure. He fell backwards until he reached the wall, unable to retreat.

"Puff …" He spat out a mouthful of blood, which landed on the pure white snow. It was extremely dazzling.

"If you want to die, I'll grant you that wish."

A breathtaking cold light shot out from the woman in red's eyes. With a 'whoosh', she pulled out the whip. Dazzling blood flowed down the whip bit by bit and dripped onto the silver-white snow, forming a striking red plum flower.

White Brook's body softened and he slowly fell onto the snow. As he looked at the person in front of him, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

Am I going to die like this?

But he was still unwilling!

Staring at the fiery red plum blossom, she felt dizzy and her body swayed unsteadily. Her heart was burning. She really wanted to drink this water.

"Ah …"

White Brook felt as if his head was about to explode from the pain. The woman in red in front of him whipped down that red Plum Blossom and pierced her eyes, burning her heart like a ball of fire.

"Only by killing them can you survive. Otherwise, all of you will die. Hahaha …"

After a moment, White Brook crawled up from the ground covered in blood. He expressionlessly looked at the person in front of him, and a voice in his mind urged him to kill them.

She couldn't help but walk towards them step by step, as if those were her prey.

The woman in red saw that the plum blossom in White Brook's brow had become increasingly red and fiery. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she grasped her whip, retreating backwards step by step.

Didn't the Demon Lord say that this woman was a fool?

How could this be?

But in White Brook's world, those people in front of him all deserved to die. Only if they died would he be able to live.

His blood-red eyes swept across the people around him, and a gust of wind from his palm shot out towards the black clothed men, killing them with a single palm strike, scaring the black clothed men to the point of running away, and the sound of his cry piercing through the horizon.