Inuyasha: A Different Kind of Dog General

"Since you're all here, should we head straight to Yuga Castle and kill Arcade inside?"

After the experience of joining forces with Toya to fight the enemy, Cuizi has enough confidence to kill Arcade on the spot and will never let him escape.

"I won't attack first, so as not to cause Arkad to escape early. Space magic is a troublesome thing."

As Douya spoke, he looked at the two women whose auras were gradually spreading, and smiled, "Why don't you ask the Madam and the Miko to go ahead?"

Chapter 158 Blood of the True Ancestor

At dawn the next day, the lead-gray clouds were so low that they seemed within reach.

The autumn wind swept across the wilderness, rolling up a few dead leaves, adding a bit of desolation.

The city of Yuga was shrouded in a blood-red barrier. The rising sun was swallowed by the scarlet light curtain, leaving only a vague dark golden light, like diluted afterglow, weakly reflecting the outline of the city wall.

The whole city seemed to be immersed in blood mist, cold and eerie.

In the altar square in the center of the capital, layers of blood plasma accumulated.

The dried dark brown and the newly emerged scarlet intertwined, surging stickily under the trampling of countless footsteps. Every step pulled out sticky threads, leaving long bloodstains on the stone bricks.

The air was filled with a rusty smell that was extremely disgusting.

Phew! Phew!

The sound of the blade cutting flesh and blood rose and fell, like some kind of mechanical rhythm.

The sacrifices, their bodies controlled by magic and with fear and despair in their eyes, lined up in a long queue.

Under the vampires' cold claws, their throats were cut one after another.

Blood gushed out and flowed into the pool of blood in the center of the altar, while the shriveled body was thrown onto the corpse cart like a discarded skin bag.

The bone wheels rolled over the stone road, making a dull sound.

Carts filled with pale corpses continue to drive towards the burial ground - there, the blood clan magic will squeeze out the last value of these corpses.

Some are twisted and reborn in the shadows, transforming into low-level undead, while others become nutrients that nourish the growth of the undead.

The whole process was precise and efficient, like a carefully designed dark harvest.

The three dukes stood together on the tower, overlooking the pool of blood surging in the center of the altar.

Dozens of sophisticated blood clan magic circles were laid out layer upon layer around the blood pool, and each rune glowed with an eerie glow.

These magic circles are nested within each other, forming a perfect concentric circle system.

The outermost magic circle flickered with a dark red halo, flickering like breathing.

Liquid silver light flows in the middle magic circle, continuously purifying the extracted blood essence.

The innermost core magic circle is purple-black, and it continuously transports the essence of blood that has been refined to the extreme into the depths of the blood pool.

The shadow under the Shadow Duke's feet squirmed like a living thing, as if something was trying to break free from his shadow.

He stretched out his skinny fingers and tapped lightly on the obsidian railing, the sound as hoarse as sandpaper rubbing against it.

"Times are different now...the more we use these offerings, the less we have. We have to use them carefully."

"No matter how carefully you calculate, only blood and despair are of any value."

Blue will-o'-the-wisp flickered in the Pale Duke's empty eye sockets.

His jaw opened and closed, making a sound like bones colliding.

"These unprocessed bones and flesh are a waste of our time."

The Scarlet Duke leaned against the railing, the scarlet liquid in the cup swaying gently with his movements, reflecting his handsome yet sinister face. "Blood is enough."

"When the blood pool is full..."

The Scarlet Duke's pupils suddenly contracted, and his voice trembled slightly with excitement.

"It's the day the blood moon rises."

The Crimson Duke looked towards the distant Canine camp, a cruel smile curling his lips. "The whole world will witness the miracle brought by the True Ancestor."

"By the way..."

The Shadow Duke's voice suddenly froze, "Do you know that the miracle that is about to come..."

"What exactly is it?"

The Pale Duke slowly shook his head, a decayed aura emanating from his jaw as it opened and closed. "The True Ancestor never stated it explicitly."

The Crimson Duke frowned slightly and then relaxed.

He looked along the city wall - the Blood Princess's pink hair fluttered in the wind, and her skirt undulated like waves of blood.

"If there's anyone else in this world who knows, besides the True Ancestor..."

The Scarlet Duke's voice was as deep as an underground undercurrent. "The only one left is Akasha."

Recalling the Blood Princess's determination in the face of the Dog Clan, everyone was silent, all speechless.

Akasha stood at the edge of the city wall, her slender jade-like fingers deeply embedded in the cold stone bricks.

Her emerald pupils reflected the scenes on the altar, and unspeakable emotions surged deep in her eyes.

With every life that passed away, her fingertips would unconsciously tighten a little, and the hard bricks would silently shatter under her hands.

(Another person...)

(Another family...)

In a trance, the falling figures overlapped and changed in her eyes, but they were surprisingly similar at the last moment.

That pure, naked fear and despair pierced her heart again and again like a sharp knife.

Heart-wrenching cries were heard in the distance, and then stopped abruptly.

This was an accidental time difference that was made up by the vampires when the group control technique arrived.

Akasha's eyelashes trembled slightly, but the corners of her mouth raised a perfect arc -

That was the elegant and indifferent smile that a vampire princess should have.

"Tell the Dukes."

Her voice was so soft, like she was reciting poetry. "Fifty thousand more sacrifices are needed, and the Blood Moon Ritual can begin."

The guards behind him bowed and retreated, and Akasha's fingertips touched his chest.

There, an ancient silver pendant rested against her skin—a gift bestowed upon her by the True Ancestor Akasha five hundred years ago.

The True Ancestor once hoped to establish a world where humans and monsters could live in peace, but was later attacked by humans. His ideals were instantly shattered, and hatred for humans rose in his heart.

(How ironic...)

Akasha's sigh was as light as a thread, disappearing in the fishy wind.

Ripples appeared in the pool of blood under the city wall, and the dark red liquid quietly climbed up an inch, reflecting the faint remaining light in the sky, and it was dazzling red.

(After all... it's not strong enough...)

She stared at her pale palms, her knuckles bluish from excessive exertion.

Even though he possessed the power to crush ordinary high-level monsters, he was still unable to defeat the elite army of the dog tribe, let alone compete with the legendary witch.

We must be able to turn the tide before it turns, support the collapsing building, and prevent the vampires from committing more killings!

Where is the road to peace?

Akasha clenched her fists.

(Clearly only one step away from the True Ancestor realm...)

(But this step...)

Her emerald pupils shrank slightly, as if she saw the invisible barrier that lay at the end of her bloodline.

For thousands of years, countless brilliant and talented vampires have fallen before this chasm, turning into piles of bones under the throne of the True Ancestor.

"Akasha."

Alkad's deep voice suddenly rang out in his mind, like the richest blood brew infused into his soul.

She paused slightly, took one last look at the campfires of the dog tribe outside the city, then turned and walked into the deep corridor of the castle.

In the throne room, dim firelight flickered between the blood crystal chandeliers, casting flowing dark red patterns on the obsidian floor.

Arkad sat upright on the towering throne, his pale, slender fingers resting lightly on the delicate reliefs of the armrests. His scarlet eyes lowered as he watched Akasha slowly walking towards him from the end of the corridor.

Her footsteps echoed in the empty hall, and her skirt brushed the ground, leaving a trail of blood-red ripples.

Arkad's gaze was like a cold blade, examining her inch by inch - from her slightly drooped eyelashes to the tightly pursed lines of her lips.

Akasha stopped and raised her eyes to meet his, her emerald pupils gleaming coldly in the dim light.

"Master True Ancestor." She responded softly, her voice as gentle as the night breeze, but hiding a hint of imperceptible tension.

Alkad raised the corners of his lips slightly, and tapped the armrest with his fingertips, making a dull sound.

"tell me--"

He slowly leaned forward, his long silver hair falling from his shoulders, gleaming coldly under the candlelight. "Are you fighting for me?"

"Or is it for those long-dead obsessions?"

The air suddenly stagnated, as if even time had stopped at this moment.

Akasha's fingertips curled slightly, and she knelt down on one knee with her hands on her chest. "Fight for the survival of the vampires!"

"Is it?"

Arkad remained silent as he walked down the steps to the throne. He gently lifted Akasha's chin with his fingertips, forcing her to look directly into his bottomless bloodshot eyes.

"Then prove it to me."

His voice was as deep as the echo of the abyss. His other pale hand slowly rose, and a thin crack suddenly appeared on the palm.

A drop of blood as thick as ink floated out, slowly spinning in the void, emitting a suffocating pressure.

True 祖之血!

"Drink it."