Man on the ark, forced to become king

Kal'tsit was able to suppress her inner turmoil with reason, but she couldn't eliminate the real physical problems; she could only try her best to calm them down.

She sat on the motorcycle, took countless deep breaths to regain her composure, pulled up her cape, started the engine, and sped into the swirling sandstorm.

-------------------------------------

"Two nameplates."

After seeing off the limping Sarkaz mercenary, the petite Blood Demon picked up the two identity badges placed beside the medical bed, glanced at them, and casually tossed them into the trash can in the corner.

A year is insignificant in the long life of a Blood Demon.

Warfarin has lived through many 'years' during which wars have come and gone, gone and returned, countless times.

It seems that this land has never been at peace.

Whether internally or externally, fighting has long been an instinct ingrained in our bones, repeating itself endlessly.

However, subtle changes seem to have occurred in this land over the past year.

In such a short period of time, many major events have occurred.

The decades-long civil war suddenly came to an end. The Regent and the Demon King were reunited, the division ended, and the various royal courts that had been living in seclusion gathered together once again.

The war has not stopped, but it is much better than before.

The long-awaited peace seems to offer a glimmer of hope.

In the past, the identity badges popular in the Scar Market were a form of hard currency in the hands of the Sarkaz, but now they are no different from trash.

Under the sweep of the royal army, Scar Market was practically defunct. It was clear to everyone that their demise was not far off, and the so-called hard currency naturally plummeted in value.

Perhaps in a while, even those mercenaries and assassins who used to be everywhere will disappear, and you won't see many of them anymore.

However, Warfarin still wouldn't refuse when someone paid for it.

She's lived too long; she no longer cares about money. If someone needs her, she'll lend a hand, and it doesn't matter what she gives.

"There probably won't be any more guests today, right?"

Muttering to herself a question, Miss Blood Demon walked to the door, glanced at the sky, and flipped the wooden sign outside the door over so that the white side was facing in and the black side was facing out. To those who knew, this meant the business was closed; those who didn't wouldn't bother with this remote little clinic.

Because of the end of the civil war and the cleanup efforts by the royal army, there haven't been many customers lately, sometimes not even one a day. Warfarin is naturally happy to have some free time and closes early.

After casually locking the simple wooden door, Miss Blood Demon walked back into the house at a leisurely pace, sat down on the old chair that was full of the marks of time, and did nothing but lie on the table in a daze.

Normally, after closing her shop, she would prepare some simple food for herself and then do some research that she had been doing for many years, enjoying herself immensely.

Today is an exception.

Warfarin felt uneasy from the start of the morning, as if something was about to happen.

This was a whimsical premonition, lacking much logic and more of a mystical element.

Perhaps it's time to move to a different place?

Staying in one place for too long can be boring. Warfarin doesn't like to stay in a village or town for long, even though what she considers a 'short stay' is a considerable amount of time to others.

Every now and then, she would move to another settlement to live, both to have fun and to experience something new. Warfarin valued this.

This time, it should be about right.

I lay on the table, counting on my fingers how long I had been there, but I couldn't get a precise answer, so I just gave up.

Warfarin's bright red pupils darted slightly, scanning everything in the room, before she stood up from her chair and began tidying up.

She wasn't a procrastinator and didn't care about finances. All she needed to bring were some daily necessities, research materials, and samples.

If she wanted, she could easily embark on her journey in less than an hour.

This has happened many times in the past, so it's something we're quite familiar with.

However, this time, it seems there's been some problem.

Warfarin's hand, which had been holding the documents, paused on the cabinet. She frowned and looked outside. The wooden door, which was already locked, was being knocked on.

Chapter 173 Warfarin's Unlucky Day (Super Large Chapter)

Snakes have snake ways, rats have rat ways.

Even in Kazdel, one of the most chaotic places in the world, rules still exist.

These rules are not decrees issued by anyone, but rather an unspoken understanding among mercenaries. Every rule is built upon countless drops of blood and corpses.

One of the many rules is that "the clinic should not be disturbed after closing time".

The war in Kazdel never ceased, with fighting taking place every moment. Against this backdrop, medical resources became extremely scarce.

Those lowest-ranking mercenaries couldn't even get the simplest bandages, let alone medicine. If they were unfortunate enough to be injured, they had to grit their teeth and endure it, leaving their fate entirely to fate.

Therefore, no one who can open a clinic in lawless areas is a simple person.

Especially those clinics that have been around for a long time.

To receive treatment and purchase medication, you must follow the clinic's rules. Once the clinic has a "closed" sign, you should absolutely not disturb it.

Many people have disregarded these things and barged in, but only a very few succeeded; most ended up as insignificant corpses.

In this small town, Warfarin's clinic is such a place. The surrounding residents and mercenaries who often pass through know what kind of existence lives in this small clinic.

Blood Demons are the most feared even among the Sarkaz, and even mercenaries who walk the line between life and death are unwilling to easily provoke those madmen.

So this is the first time since she came here that someone has come to visit after the sign was put up.

For some reason, Warfarin felt uneasy.

The knocking continued, but she didn't move. She closed her eyes and then opened them again, a glint of light flashing in her crimson eyes.

Every Blood Demon possesses the ability to manipulate blood. With this ability, they can accurately locate their prey in the dark or in a vast crowd without using their eyes.

"how come!"

Originium Arts spread outwards, intending to bring the person knocking at the door into her senses, but soon, Warfarin's eyes widened in astonishment.

In her blood-sensory perception, there was nothing outside the door.

Boom boom boom!

The knocking started again, this time more urgent, with a hint that someone was about to break down the door.

hum-

Strands of blood broke free of the blood bag's restraints, gathering like silk around the Blood Demon Lady's petite body, forming the shape of wings on her back.

There are two possibilities if the person knocking on the door cannot detect the person outside: either the person possesses some kind of spell or artifact that can shield or block Originium Arts, or... there is simply no blood in their body.

Logically speaking, the first possibility is the most likely, but Warfarin's intuition tells her it's the second.

dong dong dong! !

As if impatient, the not-so-thick wooden door was knocked on again, as if it had been struck by some heavy weapon. From the inside, cracks appeared in the old wooden planks, revealing that they could not withstand the weight.

click-

A plank of wood shattered, and what appeared in Warfarin's eyes was a figure wearing a black cloak. Under the light of the room, the cloak seemed to shimmer with a glass-like texture.

"What the hell?!"

The blood-red wings that had spread out behind him slashed down, and the resulting gust of wind blew up the cloaks of the people outside, completely revealing their true appearances, which startled even the well-informed Blood Demon Doctor.

That thing... it can probably no longer be considered human.

Or rather, only half of them are human?

Under the light, what appeared was a sculpted head made of blue crystals, with only the remaining bone texture visible on the right edge.

A magical creation? A sorcerous puppet?

Warfarin sensed no fluctuations of Originium energy from it, nor any trace of witchcraft.

That thing was like a crystal sculpture that had come to life.

Call ~

A gentle breeze suddenly blew in from outside, carrying a faint smell of blood. It was a scent that Warfarin recognized; it was the same scent of the blood of the mercenary who had given her the identity badge earlier.

Besides, the evening breeze carried not only the scent of blood, but also the smell of familiar faces from the town.

That means……

run!

Without hesitation, Warfarin grabbed her unpacked backpack, unfurled her blood wings, and unleashed a burst of magical energy that shattered the clinic's roof, carrying her into the night sky.

"That is!"

After taking flight using the Blood Demon's innate ability, Warfarin saw the town's current state and nearly lost control of her spell, falling from the sky.

In her field of vision, corpses lay prostrate on the ground, not a drop of blood flowing. Strange blue crystals emanated from certain parts of the corpses, rapidly assimilating the flesh and blood.

Just minutes ago, these people were alive and kicking, but now they are almost being mutated into crystalline monsters. Some of them still have human flesh and blood tissue on their bodies, but they have begun to try to get up from the ground.

There is some unseen and imperceptible force that is corrupting the entire town, turning the townspeople and mercenaries into monsters made of crystals!

Having lived for so many years, Warfarin thought she had seen her fair share of strange and unusual things, but the scene before her was something she had never seen before.

What kind of magic is it to turn a person into a living crystal?