Chapter 209 Practice
Francis stepped onto the steps leading to the top room. As soon as he took one step, the wooden steps made an overwhelming creaking sound like rotten wood. The dented cracks and the old and aging wood all show the danger of continued treading.
The dark elf ignored this and continued to move forward despite the creaking under his feet.
Cracks spread from under the feet and spread up the walls, and the old decoration on the surface cracked. Everything looks precarious, and this dilapidated house has been exposed to surface danger and true malice lurks. In a crack behind Francis, blood slowly flowed out, and the "blood" raised its head and silently approached Francis' back.
When Francis stepped onto the fifth step, the blood tentacles were close enough to launch an attack, and spikes formed at the front of the tentacles. Behind the shiny steel spikes, two split spiral tentacles were tightly wound like charged springs, and the tentacles launched its sneak attack.
In just a moment, the tip of the tentacle was cut off and fell to the ground. It jumped twice on the steps and rolled downstairs.
Francis retracted his scimitar and looked sideways at the tentacles that sneaked up on him.
He frowned slightly, this "dangerous house" failed to make a sneak attack and was waking up. The steps underfoot and every plank on the wall were coming to life, turning into an evil nest of flesh and blood.
"I would definitely beat him up again," Francis said.
The group of tentacles launched intensive attacks, but Francis' flexible body swayed as lightly as paper blown by the wind, evading all attacks. He quickly jumped up the steps he was withdrawing from, used the attack of the tentacles to form a path, and rushed to the top floor.
He saw the only door. The group of tentacles behind him was about to complete the siege. Francis wrapped his magic cloak tightly and kicked towards the door.
The sealing runes on the wooden door only flapped for a moment, and then shattered under Francis' violent attack, along with the wooden door itself.
The dark elf stepped into the room, and at the same time, he also heard a sticky explosion in the room.
Warlock John Camp was covered in blood and his face was covered with a layer of red. He stood up from the alchemy table and turned back. The anger in his eyes dissipated after seeing the person clearly.
"Francis?" He was a little surprised that the person who came was actually a dark elf. When he thought about it carefully, the only one who could break through his restrictions and appear in front of him safe and sound was Francis.
The blood on John's body was gradually absorbed by the robe, and the violent tentacles behind Francis also changed back to the original appearance of the hotel under the control of the magician.
"You are too devoted, and being careless can be fatal." Francis criticized.
"But I'm at home, and I'm afraid you're the only one who still moves forward bravely after seeing those flesh and blood. You can wait a little longer for my blood to give me feedback."
Although he said this, John knew in his heart that Francis would not do that. He is hostile to his own crimson magic, perhaps brought from the plains of Juncrit. He would not touch the activated blood, nor would he compromise with it. Perhaps the reason why he was able to be cruel to John was also because of his feeling for crimson.
Unlike visiting Nora or Mariana, Francis always received a "warm" welcome from Crimson Magic.
"What are you studying? You've been shutting yourself in your room for a month."
John was about to answer when he suddenly thought that the eyes of the dark elf might have seen his actions this month.
"I thought you had already foreseen it, and there was no need for me to repeat these 'boring' studies."
The dark elf crossed his arms.
"When Nora pestered you before and wanted to tell you those Druid bedtime stories about reaping benefits from sowing beans, you never said it was boring. The important thing is not how many times you have heard it, nor whether it is boring, but It’s necessary communication.”
When the original embarrassing incident was mentioned, John's face turned red. He covered his face with his hands, pretending to be helpless.
"Okay, I want to test my new ability. I understand the nature of the Crimson God, and I want to try to master the power of the god, and see if I can use some powers like Veltis."
Francis glanced at the warlock's alchemy table. The blood stains from the explosion still remained on his table, spreading radially from the center.
"Oh, you made a plasma bomb."
The warlock had a sullen face, and Francis' knowing teasing made John a little angry.
"This is just because your interference failed! What I am doing is a very great experiment. I am exploring the possibility of the crimson power. It is not a spell obtained from Wiltis through sacrifice, I am trying myself create……"
"Create a life from scratch with the power of crimson."
"The God of Sacrifice, Seclonfas, the predecessor of the Crimson God, created a world with the power of Crimson. Maybe as a Crimson Blessed, I can do better than him."
John looked at the dark elves. He didn't know what attitude the dark elves would take towards this kind of experiment. He knew that this kind of exploration of dark taboos would arouse the disgust of most people. So the warlock didn't even tell anyone else, including Mariana, but Francis, who first thought it was impossible to keep any secrets from the dark elves.
Francis' expression did not change significantly.
"So has there been any progress with your 'great' experiment? Nothing like this explosion."
"There will be." In fact, there was no progress. The dark elf's interference only advanced the explosion by more than ten seconds. Because of his skill, John could quickly clean himself up after each explosion.
"Don't aim too high, focus on the present is what you should do." Francis said.
"Wow, this kind of words from you who have the ability to predict are particularly convincing."
Francis was not angry at John's sarcasm.
"Our abilities give us completely different ways of life, but it is not enough to change our inner selves."
The dark elf pointed his index finger at his eyes.
"These eyes can see the future of many people. Most of their futures are death, but that doesn't mean that I have to look at them the same way as corpses now."
"Accept others and understand others, then you can understand your own specialness."
John opened his mouth.
"It sounds like something Nora would say to me."
John successfully made Francis's sunny expression gloomy.
"In terms of the talent for provoking trouble, you and that idiot druid are surprisingly similar, John."
It sounds like an insult, but John understands that this is the magical interaction between the dark elves and the druids. Nora always likes to provoke Francis and then be chased around by Francis with a knife. Chasing might be a form of entertainment for Nora, just like Francis also used beating as a means of relaxation.
Sensing that the dark elf's eyes were becoming more and more dangerous, John immediately changed the subject.
"So, what exactly did you come to me for? You are not the kind of person who comes to chat with me for no reason."
Francis's clenched fist slowly loosened.
"Our plan. You have completed Nora and Mariana's part, and next, it's my part."
John nodded.
"Are you asking me to go somewhere to get something related to you again? Do you also need companions that I recruit myself?"
Francis shook his head.
"No, I have arranged companions for you."
"Who?"
John looked into Francis' eyes and realized that the warrior had different plans from the other two.
"Me, and my friend."
"I will personally assist you to complete the last part."
The sorcerer laughed, and John couldn't help but curl up the corners of his mouth. He was immediately full of confidence in this adventure.
"Then please take care of my companion, Francis Blade."
The dark elf nodded, and when the sorcerer bowed like a performance, he punched John on the forehead, making a thumping sound.
"You don't really think you can escape."
"John Kemp."