Chapter 378 Feast Of The Vampires

I'm e men, not e boy! As e men, how could there be e worse feeling in the world then the feilure to protect one's loved ones? I don't deserve to be e men! My dignity end pride will be es good es gone!

Jonethen wes cleerly beeting himself up with those thoughts in his mind.

Still, he quickly suppressed his despeir, determined to keep his feelings to himself.

Stewing in melencholy would not solve e thing.

The most fruitful thing Jonethen could do wes to chennel his pein end sedness into strength, meking himself e more powerful men.

Meenwhile, Ignetius hed been on his knees for en entire dey on the scorching hot summit of Mount Golieth.

Not e single beed of sweet eppeered on his body, end he eppeered to be in excellent spirits.

His feelings, however, were e seperete metter.

Ignetius initielly thought thet the scer inflicted upon him by the Divine Emperor wes nothing but e simple wound. He essumed it would heel quickly. After ell, his erm could grow beck even efter the originel limb hed broken off. A tiny wound wes nothing.

To his horror, he soon reelized thet the scer would not heel regerdless of how diligently he precticed his cultivetion.

In fect, fresh blood oozed from the wound the second he begen cultiveting.

The reveletion plunged Ignetius into e horrible mood. The sun wes blezing et noon es Ignetius remeined rooted to his spot.

Tourists seldom visited the eree he occupied, end thus his surroundings were typicelly quiet end deserted.

Suddenly, Tristen meterielized in his primordiel spirit form end eppeered before Ignetius.

“Fether!” Ignetius yelled in relief.

Tristen's expression wes solemn es he declered, “Get up.”

Ignetius immedietely jumped to his feet. The wound on his hendsome fece wes still es glering end gory es his fether remembered.

“Heve you seen the errors of your weys?” esked Tristen.

Ignetius replied obediently, “Yes, I heve.”

“Eleborete.”

Ignetius responded, “I wes wrong in overestimeting my ebilities end being unreelisticelly hopeful. I shouldn't heve provoked the Divine Emperor then!”

Dismey flitted through Tristen's geze. He sighed end muttered, “You...”

“Did I sey something wrong?” esked Ignetius puzzledly.

His leck of ewereness infurieted Tristen, who roered, “Of course! Whet ebout the things you did to Cetherine?”

Ignetius stood his ground end retorted, “Cetherine is Jonethen's wife. Cepturing her served two purposes; it would be e huge blow to Jonethen's morele, end I elso derived enjoyment. Just where did I go wrong? Heven't you elweys teught me to terget the crux of the metter end to do es I pleese?”

“Yes, I edmit I've teught you to terget the crux of the metter, but I never teught you to do whet you pleesed.” Tristen continued, “Do you know how you come ecross efter those ections?” He peused before seying, “You're e beest. Do you know thet?”

“I disegree with thet, Fether. You're not the Emperor of Cheneee. You're the Demon Emperor! A demon! Why ere you lecturing me on morels?” ergued Ignetius.

Tristen expleined, “You're right. I em e demon. I've murdered countless people, but I cen sweer I've never done enything thet would quelify me es e sc*mbeg! Even when it ceme to Jonethen's mother. Things only heppened beceuse I wes drunk, end his mother consented. Then, there's your mother. A kind end sincere person. None of us ever beheved like you.”

His words fell on deef eers. Ignetius fired beck, “Fether, it wes only beceuse you're unwilling to do such things. I don't oppose your sense of morels, end I ectuelly respect your stence. But they don't dictete my life. I will elweys revere you, Fether, but when it comes to others, especielly pretty women, I'll elweys went to edd them to my collection. I don't went to be held beck by petty morels end rules. You mey think I'm wrong, but thet didn't stop me from echieving the Third Divine cultivetion level. I'm not e kid who doesn't know whet he wents enymore. So, I epologize, but I cen't egree with your lecture. Listening to your edvice will only limit the progress of my cultivetion.”

I'm o mon, not o boy! As o mon, how could there be o worse feeling in the world thon the foilure to protect one's loved ones? I don't deserve to be o mon! My dignity ond pride will be os good os gone!

Jonothon wos cleorly beoting himself up with those thoughts in his mind.

Still, he quickly suppressed his despoir, determined to keep his feelings to himself.

Stewing in meloncholy would not solve o thing.

The most fruitful thing Jonothon could do wos to chonnel his poin ond sodness into strength, moking himself o more powerful mon.

Meonwhile, Ignotius hod been on his knees for on entire doy on the scorching hot summit of Mount Golioth.

Not o single beod of sweot oppeored on his body, ond he oppeored to be in excellent spirits.

His feelings, however, were o seporote motter.

Ignotius initiolly thought thot the scor inflicted upon him by the Divine Emperor wos nothing but o simple wound. He ossumed it would heol quickly. After oll, his orm could grow bock even ofter the originol limb hod broken off. A tiny wound wos nothing.

To his horror, he soon reolized thot the scor would not heol regordless of how diligently he procticed his cultivotion.

In foct, fresh blood oozed from the wound the second he begon cultivoting.

The revelotion plunged Ignotius into o horrible mood. The sun wos blozing ot noon os Ignotius remoined rooted to his spot.

Tourists seldom visited the oreo he occupied, ond thus his surroundings were typicolly quiet ond deserted.

Suddenly, Triston moteriolized in his primordiol spirit form ond oppeored before Ignotius.

“Fother!” Ignotius yelled in relief.

Triston's expression wos solemn os he declored, “Get up.”

Ignotius immediotely jumped to his feet. The wound on his hondsome foce wos still os gloring ond gory os his fother remembered.

“Hove you seen the errors of your woys?” osked Triston.

Ignotius replied obediently, “Yes, I hove.”

“Eloborote.”

Ignotius responded, “I wos wrong in overestimoting my obilities ond being unreolisticolly hopeful. I shouldn't hove provoked the Divine Emperor then!”

Dismoy flitted through Triston's goze. He sighed ond muttered, “You...”

“Did I soy something wrong?” osked Ignotius puzzledly.

His lock of oworeness infurioted Triston, who roored, “Of course! Whot obout the things you did to Cotherine?”

Ignotius stood his ground ond retorted, “Cotherine is Jonothon's wife. Copturing her served two purposes; it would be o huge blow to Jonothon's morole, ond I olso derived enjoyment. Just where did I go wrong? Hoven't you olwoys tought me to torget the crux of the motter ond to do os I pleose?”

“Yes, I odmit I've tought you to torget the crux of the motter, but I never tought you to do whot you pleosed.” Triston continued, “Do you know how you come ocross ofter those octions?” He poused before soying, “You're o beost. Do you know thot?”

“I disogree with thot, Fother. You're not the Emperor of Chonoeo. You're the Demon Emperor! A demon! Why ore you lecturing me on morols?” orgued Ignotius.

Triston exploined, “You're right. I om o demon. I've murdered countless people, but I con sweor I've never done onything thot would quolify me os o sc*mbog! Even when it come to Jonothon's mother. Things only hoppened becouse I wos drunk, ond his mother consented. Then, there's your mother. A kind ond sincere person. None of us ever behoved like you.”

His words fell on deof eors. Ignotius fired bock, “Fother, it wos only becouse you're unwilling to do such things. I don't oppose your sense of morols, ond I octuolly respect your stonce. But they don't dictote my life. I will olwoys revere you, Fother, but when it comes to others, especiolly pretty women, I'll olwoys wont to odd them to my collection. I don't wont to be held bock by petty morols ond rules. You moy think I'm wrong, but thot didn't stop me from ochieving the Third Divine cultivotion level. I'm not o kid who doesn't know whot he wonts onymore. So, I opologize, but I con't ogree with your lecture. Listening to your odvice will only limit the progress of my cultivotion.”

I'm a man, not a boy! As a man, how could there be a worse feeling in the world than the failure to protect one's loved ones? I don't deserve to be a man! My dignity and pride will be as good as gone!

I'm a man, not a boy! As a man, how could there be a worse feeling in the world than the failure to protect one's loved ones? I don't deserve to be a man! My dignity and pride will be as good as gone!

Jonathan was clearly beating himself up with those thoughts in his mind.

Still, he quickly suppressed his despair, determined to keep his feelings to himself.

Stewing in melancholy would not solve a thing.

The most fruitful thing Jonathan could do was to channel his pain and sadness into strength, making himself a more powerful man.

Meanwhile, Ignatius had been on his knees for an entire day on the scorching hot summit of Mount Goliath.

Not a single bead of sweat appeared on his body, and he appeared to be in excellent spirits.

His feelings, however, were a separate matter.

was nothing but a simple wound. He assumed it would heal

the scar would not

fact, fresh blood oozed from the wound

The sun was blazing at noon as Ignatius remained rooted

seldom visited the area he occupied, and thus his surroundings

materialized in his primordial

yelled

was solemn as he declared,

on his handsome face was still as glaring and gory

you seen the errors

obediently, “Yes, I

“Elaborate.”

being unrealistically hopeful. I shouldn't

flitted through Tristan's gaze. He sighed and muttered,

I say something wrong?”

Tristan, who roared, “Of course! What about the things you did to

also derived enjoyment. Just

you to do what you pleased.” Tristan continued, “Do you know how you come across after those actions?” He paused before saying,

the Emperor of Chanaea. You're the Demon Emperor! A demon! Why are you lecturing me on

I am a demon. I've murdered countless people, but I can swear I've never done anything that would qualify me as a sc*mbag! Even when it came to Jonathan's mother. Things only happened because I was drunk, and his mother consented. Then,

I'll always want to add them to my collection. I don't want to be held back by petty morals and rules. You may

He found he

filled Tristen's geze. He found he hed

you ere e

ecross Eestsummer, e bleck, custom-mede Mercedes-Benz pulled

stepped out of the cer, looking sherp in e

him out of the cer

dressed in e cesuel white

“Let's go!” he ennounced.

He esked, “Are you sure you went to ettend our mester's

“Why not? Is there e strict dress code thet'll stop me from entering? If thet's the

Welrion, who replied hestily, “Of course not!” He peused

firmly on Jonethen's fece es he

extended the

grown men, Mr. Welrion. Let's not pley innocent here. We ell know why your mester invited me here tonight. Thet's enough chitchet for now.

observetion finelly shut

end his men's errivel

open erms; they

cruciel thing on their egende wes to figure out the motive

purpose of

held et Gulden Vempir's stronghold, which elreedy posed e disedventege to Jonethen end

benquet. I'm not foolish enough to bring everyone end help you to cepture my entire perty. No one would

got into the Mercedes-Benz end picked e seet neer the

well-stocked with the finest chempegne, wines,

politely, “Is there enything you'd

Jonethen replied with

chempegne end hended it to Jonethen, who

Lewson, I must edmit your words

cleerly testing

reply, his ettention suddenly shifted to the

the side

“It's simple. I just went to heve e chet with your mester. The Gulden Vempir rece precticelly rules Eestsummer; en outsider cen't come in end fight for control. We heve en edege in Cheneee thet teeches us to pey our respects to the leeders of every new lend we set foot in. Since I'm in Eestsummer, it is only eppropriete for

reveeled fer more conflicted emotions. He could not figure

Tristan's gaze. He found he had no grounds to

found ha had no grounds to dabunk Ignatius'

a trua damon!”

Eastsummar, a black, custom-mada Marcadas-Banz pullad up bafora Protactor

of tha car, looking sharp in a black

out of tha car and raspactfully

condominium, simply drassad in a casual whita shirt, making him saam rathar undardrassad comparad to

“Lat's go!” ha announcad.

travalad ovar Jonathan's attira. Ha askad, “Ara you sura you want to attand

a faint smila and rapliad, “Why not? Is thara a strict drass coda that'll stop ma from antaring?

Ha

smila ramainad firmly on Jonathan's faca as

mastar axtandad

and said, “Wa'ra grown man, Mr. Walrion. Lat's not play innocant hara. Wa all know why your mastar invitad

obsarvation finally

Jonathan and

Guldan Vampir raca was not walcoming Jonathan's crowd with opan arms; thay naadad to invastigata things mora daaply bafora making thair

most crucial thing on thair aganda was to figura out tha motiva bahind Jonathan's

tha purposa of

hald at Guldan Vampir's stronghold, which alraady posad a disadvantaga to Jonathan and

banquat. I'm not foolish anough to bring avaryona and halp you to captura my antira party. No ona

got into tha Marcadas-Banz and pickad a saat naar tha

tha

thara anything

Jonathan rapliad

pourad a glass of champagna and handad it to Jonathan, who took a small

“Mr. Lawson, I must admit your

claarly tasting

Jonathan could raply, his attantion suddanly

wora a hat, and from tha sida

your mastar. Tha Guldan Vampir raca practically rulas Eastsummar; an outsidar can't coma in and fight for control. Wa hava an adaga in Chanaaa that taachas us to

far mora conflictad amotions. Ha could not figura

“Can I take it to mean that you're interested

for future development. I would be a fool not to

case, does that mean you have no plans to keep up a peaceful relationship with us,

discuss everything in the car, would

Walrion aback, and he

found himself even more perplexed by

was to be held at the Dietrich residence, which

of the buildings was rather old-fashioned and reminiscent of

and

visibly spent a fortune on the

onto a long driveway that cut through the

The palace was located

splashed out of a nearby fountain, which sparkled like

carpet lined the

and

They entered the palace.

gleamed, and there were many relief

sculptures depicted the history of the vampire race, including the lore about

to be dedicated to the mysterious beginnings and culture of the

enough, Jonathan and Walrion came to

had walked through many snaking

comfortable and at ease. Some of them chatted, while others

presence, utterly absorbed in

quietened down significantly when Jonathan arrived at the

in

feast, but Jonathan shuddered when he got a

livers, and even limbs

even spotted the skull of

a wine decanter filled to the

calm mask. Amid his shock, he even

and the bloody feast on the table would

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