The Dread Lord understands the thinking of the Avengers very well. In its opinion, the current Darkan Drasil completely fits the template of the Avengers... But the Dread Lord has overlooked one thing. Not all Avengers will accept external forces.

Help, many people prefer to achieve revenge by their own strength...

"Don't worry, your request is reasonable and insignificant... Try to live, Darkan Drasil, your situation looks... very bad, hahaha, but if you die, I will

I would be happy to put your soul into a demon body to fulfill my promise."

As he spoke, the figure of the Dread Lord disappeared into the darkness. After waiting for ten minutes, Darkan confirmed that Tichondrius had left. A trace of disdain flashed across the face of the weak Archmage, and his fingers touched the ground.

Stroking the invisible cracks, a trace of desire shone in his eyes.

He rubbed it and pointed the black ring on his finger tremblingly at his heart. In the dark night, he knelt on the ground, like a believer who longed for power.

"Stupid devil... everything I want, I'll get it myself!"

"The power of blood... Blood Mistress, such a powerful power, I saw it... that is, that is my future!"

The Archmage, who was increasingly struggling to resist the addiction, took a deep breath. He used up his last strength to activate the small mechanism on the edge of the ring. A sharp silver spike pierced the surface of the ring, like a

Like a needle, it pierced Darkan's heart...

"puff"

Blood spurted out, and the Archmage fell on his back. He could feel the blood flowing out of his body bit by bit, and the life was dissipating, but there was no pain on his face. Even the hunger and thirst of demonic addiction in his body were neutralized by the coldness of death.

, there was a strange serenity on that old face.
Chapter completed!