European modulation mode

"Your sister Moras is the best candidate for the Drow Queen! If Moras really becomes the Lord of the Drow, she will do a thousand times, ten thousand times better than you!"

"enough!"

Sadolin was already very angry when the old slave spat in her food. When she mentioned her sister, she was like a cat with its fur standing on end. She roared at the top of her lungs, as if her childhood experience was a lifelong nightmare for her.

"Do you know how hard and tiring it was for me to compete with her for my mother's favor when I was a child?! But in the end, the winner was me! Me! I am much better than her!!!"

"joke!"

The old slave directly revealed the truth.

"The reason you can become the Queen of the Drow is entirely because of your father, your mother's favorite male lover. There is no other reason! It is your father who worked hard day and night to pave the way for you! Without your parents, you are nothing!"

Under Sadolin's astonished gaze, the old slave stabbed her again.

"You will wait for death in the house arrest in the Janissaries! Perhaps one day, when you are blinded by a group of Turkic ogres and dark elves, wantonly humiliated and violated, and your body is soaked in white turbidity, you will hear a piece of news: your sister Mora

Si Zheng led the drow elves to resist the Ottoman rulers! She became the true lord of the drow and led our race to rise again! And you can only be humiliated by the powerful enemy! As a shame, it will be engraved in the history books! The drow elves of the future will say that you are the biggest waste among all the drow kings! And your sister will go down in history!

If one day, Moras really led his troops back to Cairo, you would see her surrounded by soldiers and wearing the crown again, and you would be pulled out of the dungeon by some soldiers, with a big belly, kneeling at your sister's feet like a whore, begging her to help you, a crying little poor thing, get free! "

The old slave's repeated compliments to Moras completely annoyed the naturally cruel drow queen. She was shaking with anger. At this moment, Sadolin's tearful eyes were sharp and fierce enough to kill people.

"Hey? Even when you're angry, your eyes are filled with tears? I wrote a memorial to you to persuade you to stop playing. Didn't you peel off the skin and nails on my right hand with a knife? You said you wanted to see if I could still write without skin? Where was your ruthlessness at that time?! You look so crying, let alone the queen, even if you are a drow, it's embarrassing!!!"

The old slave tore off the bandage with contempt, revealing his broken hands with skin and nails peeled off, then turned to look at the Janissaries.

"I say, fellow Janissaries, your mission is just to keep this bastard alive, right? I have a lot of money at home, I can give it to you, but can you let me peel the skin off this little girl's right hand?"

"I'll kill you slave!!!"

The completely enraged Sadolin roared in anger, and when the other party turned his head, he grabbed the blunt knife from the plate and stabbed the old slave's neck fiercely! The Janissaries wanted to stop him, but it was too late. The incident broke out too suddenly. They thought about it and thought that the legion commander didn't say whether an old slave lived or died. Forget it, who cares? It's just the death of a slave. There will be many slaves in the Drow Court every day.

The young queen threw the old slave to the ground, raised the knife with her shackled hands, and stabbed the old slave's neck and chest again and again. Her body was splattered with blood. Looking at her queen's killing performance in rage, and thinking of her previous obsession with blood and killing in the Colosseum, the old slave smiled faintly at the corner of his mouth, and his head tilted, and he died completely.

At the same time, countless extremely unfamiliar memories flooded into Sadolin's mind like a tide.

It was an extremely horrific and bloody battlefield. Teams of Roman legions dressed in third-century costumes marched under the shadow of eagle flags that blocked out the sky. The huge ranks stretched to the end of the field of vision.

Their opponent: a drow army dressed in the third century, also huge in size. The scene of the two sides fighting together was extremely bloody, with scimitars sweeping and heavy swords stabbing. The front-line battlefield was as terrifying as a meat grinder. Every second, dozens of heads and hundreds of limbs were cut off by sharp blades, accompanied by dripping blood splattering in all directions! The two armies were like purple and red waves sweeping across the world, colliding again and again in the yellow sand, and the thousands of splashes of water represented the lives of thousands of soldiers.

All the drow elves seemed to be possessed, with scarlet blood mist rising into the sky on every elf's body. All the elves laughed creepily, and the speed and strength of all the soldiers far exceeded the normal limit! It was as if each of them was the darling of the Blood God! Every drop of blood shed by the soldiers of both sides would not fall to the ground, but would rise and condense in the blood mist that rose into the sky, making the mist look even more hideous and terrifying.

Every time someone was injured or died, the power of all the drow elves would increase, and the blood mist on their bodies would become more terrifying, even turning into a substantial phantom of the Blood God, wielding a huge blood mist blade like a tower and sweeping across the entire battlefield! The Romans fell like harvested wheat, and the blood that flowed nourished the God of Blood and Murder.

The Roman soldiers were no less capable than them, all of them were wrapped in purple phoenix flames, with beams of gorgeous purple-gold fire rising into the sky. Every wound on their bodies healed quickly in the flames. As long as they were not killed on the spot, even if their arms were chopped off, they could be reborn in just a few minutes, making the meat-crushing on the front lines even more tragic. Even the azure sky was occupied by half of the purple-gold flames and half of the scarlet blood mist. Soldiers on both sides shouted and fought fiercely in the sea of ​​fire and blood mist!

Behind the army, a legion of mages numbering over ten thousand people cast spells together, and fireballs that covered the sky and the sun roared down like a meteor rainstorm. Hundreds of white dragons, under the orders of the contemporary Augustus, swooped down across the entire battlefield with roars, and everything froze wherever they passed, leaving no grass or grass. Even the reflection of the Blood God was frozen in the dragon's ice, solidifying into a scarlet ice sculpture.

In the center of the battlefield, a high elf wearing a phoenix helmet was fighting for his life with a drow queen wielding a bloody sword. The shock waves generated by the collision of the two sharp blades burning with purple flames and wrapped in bloody murderous intent made the entire battlefield tremble. Behind them, there was a shadow of a true god that connected the sky and the earth: a purple phoenix burning with flames and thunder, and a blood-armored elf with blood dripping from his hands.

Suddenly, the picture in front of Sadolin changed to the city of Rome. The arrogant Queen of Drow was wearing golden shackles. Augustus stepped on her back and mounted her warhorse. He tied her chains to the saddle and paraded her through the city of Rome with his spoils. She was barefoot and walked through every street in Rome.

, leaving behind his own bloody footprints.

The man wearing the Phoenix Helmet, bathed in the cheers of the entire city, raised the Phoenix Flame Blade and Kane's Demon Sword in both hands, announcing his glorious military exploits. Two divine shadows appeared behind him at the same time.

In the next second, the scene switched to Constantinople. The man with the two magic swords died from a dagger of his confidant. Augustus, who won the entire war between gods, was assassinated in the end. The shadow of the phoenix disappeared completely, and the shadow of the blood god was transferred to the assassin. None of the remaining gods could match the golden sun.

Then, the assassin was killed by the angry imperial guards, and the shadow of the blood god moved again, wandering around the European continent for a hundred years. Whoever could defeat or kill the previous holder, the shadow of the god would automatically choose the winner to become the new host.

During the hundreds of years when the shadow of the Blood God continued to shift, the golden holy light shone on the land of Arabia. The gods of the Mind Flayers were wiped out along with their rule over Persia and Arabia, along with the Persian fire-worshiping gods. The Ghis people of the Arabian Peninsula bathed in the golden holy light, shouting the name of Allah, sweeping across most of the Mediterranean world. In the end, the heretical gods who still protected the drow elves were also wiped out in this expedition of the holy light.

Sadolin watched in amazement at the rapidly changing history and the vicissitudes of life. She watched the Blood God's shadow constantly change hosts. The Blood God's chosen position was constantly changed because of the failure or death of the previous owner. Finally, it was fixed on her mother.

She carefully concealed her identity as a cultist, and accompanied the Caliph in his conquests. Finally, she waited for the disintegration of the Arab Empire. She then used the power of the Blood God to launch a series of bloody civil wars in Egypt, and became the only mistress of all the drow.

And before she died, the person who accompanied her for the last time was the old slave she had just killed.

"The position of the Blood God Cain's Chosen One can only be obtained by defeating and killing the previous Chosen One. Sadolin is too young, and I'm afraid she can't control this power. Come on, my slave, this is the master's last order."

Sadolin looked in shock at her mother, whom she both feared and respected, lying on the dying bed, calling for her closest slave girl.

"Come on, my dear, kill me. Then you will be the chosen one of the Blood God. But you must not reveal even a trace of this power. When Sadolin comes of age, let her kill you and inherit the Blood God's chosen one. Then, she will have enough power to rule this country."

The scene changed again. The old slave watched himself eating, drinking and having fun, and his power was gradually being usurped by the Mamluks. He knelt down in front of his mother's grave and cried in pain. Even after his coming-of-age ceremony, he remained indifferent. He tried hard to resist the orders of the previous generation of masters, and even tried to find Moras, his sister, to pass the throne of the Blood God to another Philbol, but he never succeeded.

Finally, she heard that the Mamluks were discussing burning down the palace, retreating to the Arabian Peninsula, and leaving the burning Cairo to the Romans. In despair, they came trembling in front of her - and then, there was the last scene: she had successfully provoked her, and murdered this always loyal old slave with the dinner knife in her hand.

The image faded, blood gushed out, and the illusion in front of Sadolin disappeared. She returned to the real world. The extremely terrifying blood power gushed out from the bloody body of the old slave and poured into Sadolin's body! Her hands instantly turned extremely scarlet, and blood kept dripping down. Boundless rage and anger filled the mind of the Drow Queen, and she let out a shrill roar towards the sky! ! !

"This is your last chance. You promised me that you would not continue to be so willful..."

Sadolin looked at the bloody old slave, who was constantly spewing blood in her arms and gradually dying. She shed tears of blood once again. The extreme sadness and anger almost made her unable to breathe. This slave was the only one who remained loyal to the Philbol family after experiencing so many changes... but he was killed by her own hands - from today on, she was completely alone.

Chapter 465: Kane's Chosen One

Looking at the scene in the room, the seven death shrouds were stunned. An extremely terrifying pressure spread out. It was obviously just a slave who died, but the smell of blood at the scene was as strong as being in the cruelest battlefield. The air around them was moist and rich as if it could drip with blood. After a second, the seven people even felt that there was a whole ocean of blood covering their heads. The terrifying pressure made them sweat profusely and even unable to breathe!

A death shroud immediately used an identification spell to see what was wrong with the queen. The arcane fonts that were supposed to be azure blue, turned into a shocking scarlet color the moment they spied on the Blood God, and every letter was dripping with blood.

【Sadoulin Philpour】（Kane’s Chosen One）

Level 8 (5th level Psion + 3rd level Enslaver)

HP: 24, MP: 0/100, Blood: ???

Fist hit +16, physical damage 9~12

Defense 12 (Agility +4, ??? +8), Magic Resistance 19

Strength 10, Agility 18+1, Constitution 10

Intelligence 24, Wisdom 10, Charisma 16

[Seven Plagues: Arcane Dysentery]: Lose 1 mana point per second.

???

"God's Chosen? Kane's Chosen?! How is this possible?! There are problems with many of her attributes! There are so many question marks that I can't even see them! And what is that [Blood] value???"

A Death Guard cried out in surprise. Although many priests now claim to be chosen by Allah or God, but times have changed. Now there are only two choices of faith: God and Allah. There is also some unclear relationship between the two. The Four Chaos Gods are very rare, and the other heretical gods are either dead or so weak that they are almost non-existent.

Therefore, in Europe, God and Allah are basically in a state of harvesting after completing their monopoly on faith, and will not give too much power to mortals. Even those chosen by Allah are only slightly stronger than ordinary priests.

However, if we go back to the era of gods more than a thousand years ago, in order to deceive believers and win votes, the gods at that time really dared to use any power, and even dared to roll up their sleeves and come down to earth to fight. Fights among gods were as common as when a loser in chess picks up the chessboard and smashes it against another player. The devastating war almost burned the entire European continent.

"God's Chosen" was synonymous with fear and death in that era, a legend second only to that of the gods. What's more, this person was the darling of Bloody Cain, who was in charge of war, blood, and murder!

But what they cannot see, Sadolin can easily see, the true authority of the Blood God's Chosen One.

[Cairn's Chosen·Bloody Carnival]: Permanently fall into the "Bloody Carnival" state of the God of Murder, indulging in the eternity of murder and pleasure, Attack +8, Damage +8, Defense +8, For each intelligent life killed, a random attribute +1, infinite stacking, murder bonus resets to zero at o'clock every morning.

[Cairn's Chosen God of War]: With you as the center, all friendly troops within a radius of 1 meters fall into a "bloody carnival" state. For every point of mana consumed, the radius expands by an additional meter. The radius of the halo resets to the initial meters at am every day.

[Cain's Chosen Lord of Murder] Every time you kill a professional, you gain blood points equal to their health. When you are injured, casting a spell, or amplifying the "God of War" status, you can choose to consume an equal amount of blood to replace the loss of life and mana. Blood points are reset to zero at 8 a.m. every day.

When the Death Shroud was staring at Kane's Chosen, Salina was also staring at the seven Death Shrouds. Even by the standards of the Viking half-giants, these seven Janissaries were extremely strong and sturdy, filling up their cotton armor, chain mail, and plate armor. Chunks of fat and muscle almost overflowed from every small hole of the chain mail. The rusty brass decorated the rotten green plate armor with a large number of strange and evil patterns. The seven of them were equipped with a giant sickle and a bag of javelins.

Osman was powerful beyond imagination. All seven of them were warriors and priests of around level 12. Guys of this level were capable of being commanders of an army of people, but they were only seven of Osman's forty-nine guards wielding the sword Vichir.

"Even if she somehow obtained the power of the fallen old gods, she is only an eighth-level psyker. She has also been infected with our plague: [Arcane Dysentery], which causes her to lose a point of magicka every second. The six of you go and suppress her! I'll report to the legion commander!"

Although one Death Shroud was a strain, in their cognitive logic, sending six Level 12 Death Shrouds to suppress an Eighth Level Psychic with an Empty Blue would be a sure win.

Watching the six death shrouds marching heavy steps into the bedroom, Sadolin glanced at the blood shadow wrapped around her body, which was the reflection of the blood of her last loyal servant. She smiled and stretched out her arms, hugging herself for the last time.

"I won't let you down again. I swear, this is the last time I cry."

Sadolin carefully raised her hands that were dripping with blood and tried to touch the blood shadow, but the blood passed through directly and she could not touch it at all, which made her realize that the thing she was trying to touch was nothing but an illusion, and everything no longer existed.

In a short period of time, a series of violent and extreme mental shocks made this pampered little queen not even know what expression to show. She converted all the blood wrapped around her body into temporary mana, and let out a shrill scream towards the sky, as if she was a wounded beast, calling for help from her companions!

The shrill and ear-piercing screams instantly spread to all the nearby rooms. Twenty or thirty servants all heard the screams of their master, calling out to them and ordering them to rescue their queen. Although she was imprisoned, this queen did have the slave contract of all Egyptians.

So, the Death Shroud who ran out to report the news to Mortarion saw an extremely strange and horrifying scene: all the drow maids and Mamluks who heard the queen's scream along the way pulled out their knives, forks, and all the weapons they could find in a short period of time, and slit throats, cut chests, and took out hearts with a smile on their faces, committing suicide on the spot in extreme joy and madness. The "plop" sound of corpses falling in pools of blood continued throughout the corridor and echoed back and forth!

The blood of some of them seemed to have its own consciousness, all rushing towards the queen's room and converging!

This strange scene made even the experienced Mortarion's guards feel chilled and terrified.

Inside the room, more human figures made of blood were embracing and entwining behind the Queen of Drow, and even taking the form of a handful of blood.

The appearance of the magic sword was in her hands, and she easily cut through the chains of plague that had bound her for days.

A death shroud widened her eyes in horror, her bloody attribute points skyrocketing for some unknown reason!

力量10+8、敏捷18+9、体质10+5

智力24+7、感知10+2、魅力16+4

What the hell is this???

"Damn it! This black girl is a bit weird! Anyway, as long as the legion commander and the Sultan are alive, I will chop off her hands and feet first!"

A three-meter-tall death shroud raised a giant scythe that was flashing with cold light, and swept it towards Sadolin's slender calf with great force. However, the poisonous scythe blade was blocked by the blood and could not touch the queen's body at all.

Sadolin seized the opportunity, and her petite body of 1.7 meters, like a swift black and red lightning, rushed directly into the arms of the shroud, wielded the magic sword in her right hand, and leaped deep, letting the blood-forged sword pass through the eye socket of the helmet and pierce into his left eye! The whole person was hanging on the death shroud staggeringly.

The Death Shroud was quite tough. Even though one of its eyes was blinded, it did not scream, and even did not slow down its attack frequency. It grabbed the Queen who was hanging on its eye, trying to pull her away from its body, and then cut off her legs and hands.

However, Sadolin's speed at this moment was much faster than his. She used the blood blade that pierced into the eye socket as a medium to instantly release an [Energy Burst] in the Death Guard's brain.

Instantly, blood-colored psychic fire burned in his brain, and it exploded with a muffled sound! The violent shock wave carried the psychic flames, tearing and burning every nerve and blood vessel in his head! Thick smoke and blood mist rose from every gap in his helmet. His huge body trembled and shook a few times, and fell down with the drow queen hanging on his eyes.

Sadolin shook twice, then stood up again by stepping on the corpse in the death shroud. All of his poisonous blood gushed out from his exploded head. He hugged the fragile body of Kane's chosen one. The long-awaited battle made every cell and every drop of her blood scream with relief. Her body, which had been slack for a hundred years, gradually regained its fighting state. In a trance, she seemed to have returned to her childhood.

At that time, I had to try my best to compete with my two sisters for my mother's favor. If I slacked off even a little, I would be surpassed and left behind. My mother was like an indifferent spectator who just wanted to choose the strongest one among the three crickets and didn't care about the other two at all.

The suffocating competitive pressure seemed to have returned to her. She looked at the five death shrouds as if she were staring at five dead people, and let out a second death scream that was even more shrill, sharp, and far-reaching! More servants heard the queen's voice!

But this time, they don't have to commit suicide. Their current blood reserves are more than enough to deal with the five death shrouds. They just need to come to their side as quickly as possible!

Chapter 466: The Trembling Palace

On the other side, Mortarion was discussing the retreat plan with the Mamluks. Aenarion only promised you to become rich, but I am very generous. I will let you hold important positions in my legion, and even introduce you to the Sultan himself and let you enter the Ottoman court.

So we had to abandon Cairo, move any documents and materials that could be moved, and burn them if we couldn't. We had to leave tonight, or we would be blocked in Cairo by Aenarion's Roman legions.

The Mamluks did not speak. Surrender was one thing, but abandoning their old nest and following the Ottomans back to their territory was another. The entire meeting was plunged into debate. Mortarion, the elf who was not yet an adult, stood on a chair with his petite body. Across the table, he had a fierce debate and exchange of interests with a group of two or three meter tall Goliaths.

At this moment, the Death Shroud knocked on the door of the conference room with a look of horror.

"Captain of the Legion! Something unusual has happened with the Drow Queen! Many Mamluks and Drow maids committed suicide with smiles on their faces along the way, and their blood seemed to flow towards the Queen! The other six brothers have already controlled her, I came here to inform you!"

Mortarion frowned in confusion, not knowing what this unusual movement meant, while the Mamluks, like cats with their fur blown off, jumped up from their chairs! Each of the tall and mighty slaves let out a terrified and sharp scream comparable to that of a little girl.

They were so familiar with this scene, smiling and committing suicide, blood flowing, isn't that the power of the slave contract and the previous king?! Although the specific mechanism and principle of the blood were not clear, the little queen had not shown any signs of inheriting her mother's abilities over the years? Why did she suddenly have this ability today? ? ?

"Quick! Evacuate! Servant! Cast a Silence spell on me! I don't want to hear the mistress's orders!!!"

One Mamluk spoke in panic, while the other briefly explained the current situation to Mortarion.

"Our queen controls the souls of all Egyptians, but the conditions for activating this power are rather harsh. First, the slaves must hear the master's voice before they will execute orders. Second, they must consume magic power to carry out specific manipulation and command. So when she is imprisoned, her mana must be drained.

Now, your countermeasures should be ineffective, but

, it doesn’t matter if you only have the power of enslavement. You and your death shroud can easily suppress her weak body.

However, once this power is combined with the power of Cain's Chosen, the power will be unimaginable! Now we must evacuate all the slaves in the castle! As long as they hear the sound, they will fight for the queen until the last drop of blood is shed! Use their own fighting and blood to nourish and please the Blood God himself!"

"That's right! We agreed! We agreed to everything! Run now! Mortarion! Don't take anything. If you want to set fire to the palace, do it now! Otherwise, it won't be long before not only the palace, but the entire Cairo will be our enemy! Even we will be controlled and enslaved by her!"

Mortarion looked at the panicked Mamluks, somewhat unconvinced, and held the giant scythe to test the queen's quality, but the Mamluks were not weak, and they also knew the ability of their sword-wielding Vichiel.

When they faced him, they would at most act submissive and respectful, but they had never been as frightened and trembling as they were today, shaking like ants.

"You Mamluks go first and immediately start the plan to burn down the palace. I will take the death shroud to the inner room to see how my other six guards are doing. By the way, I will help the queen to be decent. If she doesn't want to be decent, I will help her to be decent myself."

Mortarion thought about it for a moment, but still chose not to believe in evil. She jumped off the tall chair with her petite body, and strode into the inner room with her forty-three guards. Cain's Chosen? How fresh, who is not a Chosen? After Sultan Selim ascended the throne, he brought all the sword-wielding Vikiel into contact with a more powerful and terrifying force!

I myself was also endowed with the power of God's Chosen by a huge, bloated green mountain of flesh, and the seven plagues were the proof of this blessing!

In Mortarion's right hand, she held a two-handed scythe that was even bigger than her body. The terrifying weapon formed a sharp contrast with her petite figure. In her left hand, she took out a short plague staff, which was only the size of a chopstick. It was a branch filled with the power of decay, with seven withered and yellow leaves, and three pale, strange skull flowers clustered on the top of the staff.

As the distance got closer, Mortarion felt a little creepy. The smell of blood in the air was so strong that it was sickening. The road was empty. All the maids and Mamluks had disappeared without a trace. In the distance, it seemed as if something was dancing wildly to celebrate its new life.

After turning another corner, a Mamluk servant came into view. A creepy blood mist emanated from every pore of his body, which condensed into a scarlet cloud of blasphemy on the ceiling.

When he saw Mortarion, the man laughed wildly, waving his two swords and rushing forward. With a flash of cold light, he was instantly cut in half by Mortarion's sickle. With two snaps, he fell to the ground powerlessly, and a large amount of internal organs were shaken out of the broken abdomen, and blood was spilled all over the ground. But he was unaware of it, laughing wildly on the ground, stretching out his hands, supporting the half of his body that was left, crawling forward, dragging his intestines and internal organs all over the ground, and continued to crawl towards Mortarion.

The Lord of Plague frowned and swung his sickle twice, completely cutting off his arms. Then, the half-body of the human pig was left, wriggling in the pool of blood like an insect, still moving towards him! Two rows of teeth stained with blood opened fiercely in the air, biting and clicking, as if they were determined to bite off a piece of Mortarion's flesh even if they died.

Mortarion looked at the slave with contempt, crushed his head with his foot, and continued to climb up in the pool of blood. But he had a doubt in his heart. How could the queen be in the mood to send her own people to patrol here? Was she too free?

It shouldn't be that bad, right? His six Death Shrouds were all level 12 warriors, how could they be killed by a level 8 warlock? Even if she was chosen by God, it wouldn't be so outrageous, not to mention that she was also infected with one of his seven plagues: arcane dysentery? ? ?

But when they rushed all the way to the queen's bedroom, Mortarion widened his eyes in shock. The six death shrouds were still alive, but the blood had been drained from their bodies. Their bloated and huge bodies were shriveled like mummies. The well-fitting armor had become loose and empty. They were now in the posture of zombies, still moving. A drow mage, covered in blood, was controlling their bloodless bodies, and the person controlling the mage was the drow queen herself.