Boiling Beast Bloodline -
Chapter 1514 - 451 The Performance Begins_2
Chapter 1514: Chapter 451 The Performance Begins_2
It’s strange—the deep pool monster that re-emerged from the water didn’t rush to slaughter these Demon Clan members on the shore, nor did it immediately unleash magic to torment these crawling weaklings. Instead, it impatiently used its tentacles to suction the shimmering Night Light Shells floating on the water, shoveling them into its gruesomely huge maw for an ornate feast, as if savoring some rare delicacy.
The poor silver-eyed warrior was hoisted into the air by one spiny tentacle, while several barbed suckers pierced through the gaps in his helmet and neck armor, resembling a swarm of giant maggots devouring their prey, utterly nauseating.
Every tentacle periodically extracted bulging objects, which swelled like rings along the tentacle’s length before surging relentlessly into the monster’s fleshy body!
Amazing as it was, the silver-eyed warrior was still alive, his metal-gloved hands gripping his battle sword tightly, his silver-thread glimmering eyes wide open in rage, struggling to lift the blade yet failing to do so.
Time’s up!
Moore took a deep breath and hurled his homemade spear fiercely toward the monster’s eye.
With a trailing shriek akin to an exploding sound, a golden flash streaked through mid-air!
Blood erupted into a crimson splash!
Forged from bronze, seventy-five pounds heavy, and thick as a goose egg, the DIY spear rampaged through the scene—first, it shattered two tentacles lined with wolf-like barbs trying to intercept it and then exploded the monster’s red-frosted icy projectile at close range. Encasing its red ice crystal entirety, the spear struck straight into the massive eyeball of the deep pool monster with pinpoint precision.
Purple blood erupted like a fountain, rocketing three feet high!
The grotesque monster let out a chillingly low, bone-rattling roar and thrashed violently. Purple blood spread across the water as dozens of spiny tentacles bundled its body in frantic wraps and releases. Ten meters away on an icy surface, the tentacles unleashed explosive sprays of ice shards and cracks with each whiplash, tightening their hold ever faster, causing even more blood splatter!
The water surface that had already frozen into blocks was churned into boiling turbulence.
Moore leapt down effortlessly as blood-wheeled "Blood Moon Flying Wheels" rolled and coiled beneath—feeling ostentatiously proud, filled with a thrill reminiscent of Nezha Third Prince.
Nearing the water, Moore unleashed two "Blood Moon Flying Wheels" as his opening strike, followed seamlessly by a backflip, landing gently on the surface. Around his feet, ripples expanded outward.
The Demon Clan adventurers nearby were completely stunned.
The series of bizarre highs and lows left their minds in utter chaos. Confronted by this surreal scene, they even forgot to seize the golden opportunity to pummel a fallen foe!
These greenhorns clearly lacked experience, but Moore wasn’t about to show mercy.
Combat opportunities are fleeting. How could a high-tier Magical Beast be instantly killed by merely one spear? If allowed to retreat into the pool’s depths, even if it died afterward, would he need to dive down to recover it?
Though Moore had the "Exquisite Azure Wave Mole" ability and the "Turtle Water Barrier," rendering his status as a true Aquatic Race member, he had zero interest in swimming in freezing water on such a cold day.
Wary that his "Flower King" title might lose effectiveness in Demon World, Moore opted for Blood Magic first.
Two towering Blood Servants—with particularly ample chests and strikingly slender waists—burst forth in synchronized leaps. As their sultry silhouettes materialized mid-air, they each unleashed a "Blood Moon Flying Wheel," forcing the thrashing pool monster into relentless motion!
Adept-level magic is no joke; its power unsettles even Giant Dragons, let alone the impact of dual instantaneous releases!
The rapidly spinning blood wheels against flesh were nothing short of razors shaving fur clean!
The seven embedded bloodstones on Moore’s left glove—whether Blood-infused or Moon-enhanced—allowed a firing barrage unmatched by any mage from Moore’s era!
The current Moore was worlds apart from the poor greenhorn who was once chased by blue-backed wolves across Bra Island, utterly humiliated.
Noticing the silver-eyed warrior left floating half-sunken and frozen stiff in the water, Moore dashed over its surface, swiping the sword still clutched in the warrior’s hand. Wiрh the forceful yank tangled in ice, Moore accidentally tore off half the warrior’s arm. Spinning around, he slashed forward—a swift strike, the razor-sharp blade carving an arc resembling a crescent moon—cleaving through a pursuing massive tentacle!
The dust settled.
Under a barrage of magical assault from the two stunning Blood Servants, after enduring seven to eight hits from the "Blood Moon Flying Wheels," the powerful pool monster fizzled out completely. The tentacle attack aimed at Moore was merely its death spasm.
Exhaling into his chilled palms, Moore warmed his icy hands and muttered, "Damn, this sword is freezing as hell."
Looking at the twitching monster floating on the water’s churned surface, Moore hurled the blade straight into its other eyeball, then unfastened the iron chain from his waist. Wrapping it around his palm over several loops, he seized a tentacle. Muscle straining, he dragged the massive beast ashore, extracted his sword, stomped its skull, and unleashed an unrelenting frenzy of hacking. Blood sprayed into the air like exploding rubies, falling as droplets onto the ground.
Wiping blood off his hand, Moore suddenly made time amidst chaos to test his "Pick Flower finger."
Apparently, flowers transcended borders. A tightly-closed flower bud, thick as a clenched fist, obeyed its lord’s summoning from within the forest—it soared gracefully into the sky, fluttering like dandelion fluff on the wind, before quietly landing on Moore’s fingertips.
A Demon World flower of considerable size, its petals remained closed from the night’s chill yet were still as large as a bushel.
Were it daytime, with petals fully unfurled, it’d probably expand like a dinner plate!
Moore stood dumbstruck.
He just realized how idiotic he’d been before!
Why had he fixated on trifling flowers like clover, iris, and marigold from Donau Wasteland?
If the flower was too small, no matter how impressive its penetrative power, the inflicted wound would still be limited!
But what if the bloom had this much size?
Moore finally understood—Aegean’s scarcity of large flowers had ingrained a psychological blind spot into him.
Now in Demon World, this experiment opened his eyes. "Pick Flower finger," being the most offensive magic of the seven attacks in Flower Magic, could serve as a single-target adept-level spell when fired!
If wielding a dinner-plate-sized bloom for "Pick Flower finger," despite mitigated pressure or reduced penetration force compared to smaller flowers, the sheer destructive impact remained undeniable!
Even a Giant Dragon might flinch at such a massive wound on its body!
So, Flower Magic harbored this hidden potential for enhancement all along! Moore silently cursed eighteen times, "Damn it!"
While Moore puzzled over his oversight, the Demon Clan adventurers stood dumbfounded.
What overwhelming silver-eyed warrior was this?
Silver flames darted above his head. He hovered over the water effortlessly—not by wings, but by peculiar arcane propulsion—with two flamboyantly seductive red-skinned women by his side!
Their attacks unleashed spells of extraordinary arcane power, non-stop, and utterly dominant!
Even Winged Knights would pale against such prowess and entourage. The jaws of the four Demon Clan adventurers gaped like flowers, exchanging incredulous looks.
Moore snapped back to reality, flinging away the flower petals while absorbing the blood essence, coldly scanning the four slack-jawed Demon adventurers one by one.
Gazing at their youthful, still-green faces, Moore realized he might have kicked off something promising.
The four Demon adventurers were too petrified to budge. As the silver-eyed warrior’s gaze landed on them, it felt as though a bucket of icy water had cascaded down their bodies.
The aura of years spent domineering in turbulent seasons merely deepened the indelible marks etched on this silver-eyed warrior’s face. His piercing stare resembled a blade hovering near their throats.
**
Surprisingly, I wasn’t late.
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