Returning to the Mysterious Era

Chapter 145 - The Eerie Call



Chapter 145 - The Eerie Call

Chapter 145 - The Eerie Call

Bang!

The grotesque, bat-like face of the Blood Race member from the Alphama direct bloodline caved in. The massive figure flew backward like a cannonball, crashing directly into a dilapidated yellowish wooden house.

Cassius calmly retracted his fist. He wiped his chest with his right hand, the faint white marks on his skin having already disappeared. With a firm tug, he ripped off the tattered white shirt from his body and tossed the rags to the ground.

In just half an hour, Cassius had wrecked two shirts, courtesy of his flamboyant and aggressive fighting style. The Wind Elephant Covert Martial Arts was a power technique for close combat, while the Stone Armour Technique was a form of hardening Qigong. The interplay between martial arts and personal temperament made it very easy for Cassius’s clothes to become nothing but shreds in every battle—either torn by his opponents or ripped apart by his own explosive physicality.

Had he practiced a sword-based Covert Martial Art, his movements would have been more graceful, his attacks swift, leaving his clothes intact. If a sword practitioner’s clothes were ever torn in close combat, it would be because they'd be near death because an enemy capable of touching their clothing could reach their vital points. Most weapon-based martial artists had relatively fragile bodies.

Swish.

Cassius pulled his boots free from the ground where they had been deeply embedded, and shook off the dirt. He then turned and spoke to the man in the trench coat beside him.

"Hand the person over to me."

"Huh?" The man in the trench coat was momentarily dazed. "O-oh..." He quickly walked over to Cassius's side. A large hand reached over, lifting the young Blood Race member off the trench-coated man's shoulder and placing him on Cassius’s shoulder.

The trench-coated man hesitated for a moment before opening his mouth to speak, "Please... May I ask..."

Acting as if he didn’t hear him, Cassius walked toward the distant small house, his expression flat. He wasn't going fast, but each step covered a significant distance to the point that he looked like he was jogging.

"Sigh..." The man in the trench coat sensed that Cassius had no intention of talking to him. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He touched the wound on his back. While not severe, pain still twinged when he touched it. Enduring the sting, the trench-coated man forced himself to follow Cassius.

Meanwhile, Cathy, the female police officer who had been standing awkwardly by the headless corpse, finally snapped out of her daze. Seeing the two heading toward the small house, she dared not linger there any longer.

The eerie presence of the headless, bleeding corpse sent a shiver down Cathy’s spine. She took a deep breath, steeling herself before taking off, fumbling to reload her handgun as she did so.

One minute later, beside the partially collapsed small wooden house.

The trench-coated man gazed at the pitiful state of the half-man, half-bat creature from earlier. Its skull had collapsed, its facial features twisted, with red and white fluids oozing from the cracks. At least half of its ugly head had been smashed flat by a tremendous force.

Currently, the creature looked half-dead, with the only thing sustaining it was its pure, primal energy. The Alphama direct bloodline Blood Race could transform through the gift of blood, but on the other hand, it significantly reduced their recovery ability. This monster was a prime example of that.

The trench-coated man blinked as he stared at the trembling, struggling bat creature on the ground. He recalled something an elder in his family had once said.

"Although our Blue-Eyed Family considers the Blood Race our greatest lifelong enemy, they do not see us that way. This is especially the case with the Alphama direct bloodline of the Blood Race, who possess the power of the Blood Gift and are capable of unleashing true dark blood. When they're in their bat form, they're incredibly strong with an extremely high bloodlust. You'd need an entire hunter squad to keep even a single Alphama direct bloodline Blood Race member at bay when they're in this state. Never fight an Alphama Blood Race member one-on-one; you're practically signing your death sentence!"

With the elder’s advice still echoing in his ears, it contrasted sharply with the scene before him. Someone had gone one-on-one with an Alphama direct bloodline Blood Race member, and the Blood Race member had been knocked out with a single punch despite being in their strongest Blood Gift state.

Seeing the vast difference in strength, the trench-coated man realized that even a group of Alphama direct bloodline Blood Race members in their Blood Gift state wouldn’t stand a chance against this muscular man.

The Alphama Blood Race had gone all out just now, but it was like a gentle scratch because he had failed to even break through the man’s skin.

There was more than just the supernatural power of the Blood Race in this world.

"There are people here! And..." Cathy's voice came from the other side of the small house.

A few minutes later, two pretty women stood before the trench-coat man, their expressions wooden. They were evidently two of the missing victims.

"The two victims seem to be drugged." Cathy frowned.

"It’s not drugs." The trench-coated man shook his head. "This is a form of mental control or intimidation the Blood Race uses on humans. It’s similar to how herbivores in the wild freeze when they come across a top predator and enter a state of paralysis. These two are in something like that. If the Blood Race doesn’t continue to exert mental control, this paralysis will only last about ten hours before they gradually recover." As a Mercury Hunter, he naturally knew a bit about this.

Seeing the trench-coated man seemed more friendly, Cathy cautiously asked, "And you are?"

His surroundings were quiet, with only the dense mist swirling around. Cassius thought he heard something and held his breath.

At first, all he heard was the rustling of wind through the treetops, the distant chirping of birds, and the sound of his heartbeat and breathing. And then...a faint voice calling out to him.

"Cas...si...us... hiss... come... hiss... here...

"Hiss... here... this way... hiss, hiss, hiss..."

The voice came intermittently, like an old cassette tape was playing, but it was mixed with chaotic noise and whispers, like the background murmur of numerous people.

At first, Cassius just found it eerie, but his eyes widened as he realized something. How did that voice know his name? Could it be Duomo? Or was the young Blood Race back at the cabin in danger and calling for help?

He whipped around. A black shadow flashed past, and Cassius's skin prickled. He charged forward aggressively, his fists bursting with power.

Boom!

A tree large enough for a man to hug was punched straight through, leaving a gaping hole. Cassius retracted his fist and scanned the surroundings.

The thick white fog seemed like a massive, shifting, indistinct wall, or like a towering wall rising from the ground and dividing worlds. Everything was silent. It felt as if he had been put in another realm by himself—empty, blank, desolate, and hazy.

Swoosh!

Another black shadow flashed close by.

Cassius struck out again, swiftly entering the third-level accelerated blood flow, and swinging his iron fists wildly through the air. The air streaming around caused the surrounding fog to form a swirling vortex. And yet the owner of that shadow remained elusive.

"Stop hiding and come out!"

Cassius grabbed onto a tree with his right hand, his fingers crushing the trunk as if he were ready to rip it out and sweep it around.

The area fell silent once more, save for Cassius's heavy breathing which was akin to an ox panting. He was inexplicably irritated. It felt horrible when things were out of his control!

Just as Cassius was about to lose his temper, he remembered the Wind Elephant Fist's principle. He took a deep breath, constantly reminding himself to stay calm. Slowly, he began to regain his composure.

That creepy voice echoed in Cassius's ears once again. "Follow... hiss, hiss, hiss... me... hiss... here... hiss, hiss..."

Suddenly, he saw a blurry figure in the fog ahead, walking ahead as if it were leading the way. Cassius's eyes narrowed, and he exploded into action, charging forward. But after sprinting several hundred meters, the figure was still in roughly the same position, hazy and faint as if it could disappear at any moment.

It was so fast...or was this just an illusion?

Cassius clenched his fists to check himself. As a pugilist with mastery in Covert Martial Arts, he could tell he hadn’t been poisoned.

Whatever, he thought. His instincts told his brain that this entity had no ill will, so Cassius decided to check out where this fog-shrouded figure would lead him.

Half an hour later, a Blood Race member was carefully navigating the trees in the steep forest. The sudden thick fog blurred the mountain paths and made it difficult to see.

Tap, tap, tap...

A series of quick footsteps came from the left. The Blood Race glanced over, but a black shadow seemed to teleport right in front of him.

"Get lost!"

The Blood Race was ripped in half in a single motion by an incredible force, the blood mist swelling and rising.

A massive figure surged past, the air current it created forming a half-red, half-white vortex in midair, resembling a suspended eye. It was dripping blood.


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