Crimson Servant.

Chapter 209 Practice it personally
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 machete 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 up 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.

"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……"

John was about to answer when he suddenly thought that the eyes of the dark elf might have seen his behavior this month.

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.

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 Juancrit. 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.

"But I'm at home, and I'm afraid you're the only one who continues to move forward after seeing those flesh and blood. You can wait a little longer for my blood to give me feedback."

"Oh, you made a plasma bomb."

"What are you studying? You've been locked in your room for a month."

The dark elf stepped into the room, and at the same time, he also heard a sticky explosion coming from the room.

Unlike visiting Nora or Mariana, Francis always received a "warm" welcome from Crimson Magic.

"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 warlock had a sullen face, and Francis' knowing teasing made John a little angry.

The dark elf crossed his arms.

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.

"Create a life from scratch with the power of crimson."

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.

Francis glanced at the warlock's alchemy table. The blood stains from the explosion still remained on his table, spreading radially from the center.

When the original embarrassing incident was mentioned, John's face turned red. He covered his face with his hands, pretending to be helpless.

"You are too devoted, and being careless can be fatal." Francis criticized.

"Okay, I want to test my new ability. I understand the nature of the Crimson God. I want to try to master the power of the god and see if I can use some powers like Veltis."

"I thought you had already foreseen it, and there was no need for me to repeat these 'boring' studies."

"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.”

"The God of Sacrifice, Seclonfas, the predecessor of the Crimson God, created a world with the power of Crimson. Maybe as a Crimson Beloved, 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 'grand' 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 be too ambitious, focus on the present is what you should do." Francis said.

"Wow, these words are really convincing when you have the power of prophecy."

Francis was not offended by John's sarcasm.

"Our abilities give us radically different ways of living, but that's not enough to change who we are on the inside."

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 I look at corpses now."

“Only by accepting others and understanding others can you realize how special you are.”

John opened his mouth.

"Sounds like something Nora would say to me."

John succeeded in making Frances's still sunny expression darken.

"In terms of your talent for stirring up trouble, you are strikingly similar to that idiot druid, John."

It sounded like an insult, but John understood that this was the magical interaction between dark elves and druids. Nora always liked to provoke Francis and then be chased around by Francis with his sword drawn. Chasing may have been a form of entertainment for Nora, just as Francis also used beatings as a means of relaxation.

Realizing that the dark elf's eyes were becoming more and more dangerous, John immediately changed the subject.

"So, what's the matter with you coming to me? You're not the kind of person who comes to chat with me for no reason."

Francis's clenched fists slowly unclenched.

"Our plan. You have completed Nora and Mariana's part, next, is my part."

John nodded.

"Are you asking me to go somewhere to get something related to you again? Companions that I also need to recruit myself?"

Francis shook his head.

"No, I have already arranged a companion for you."

"Who?"

John looked into Francis's eyes and realized that the warrior had different plans than the other two.

"My friend and I."

"I will personally assist you in completing the final part."

The warlock laughed, and John couldn't help but curl up his lips. He was immediately confident about this adventure.

"Then please take care of me, my companion, Francis Blade."

The dark elf nodded, and took advantage of the moment when the magician bowed down to salute in a show, and punched John on the forehead, making a thud sound.

"You really don't think you can escape, do you?"

"John Camp."

(End of this chapter)