The Memoirs of Cultivating Immortals

Chapter 270 Who is it?
Looking down from a high altitude, the majestic, magnificent red torrent is like a long horse, covering all the streets around Trafalgar Square.

The essence of these red currents is ether, the extremely rich ether.

Whether it was the blood slave officers present, or the blood clans in the underground fortification who looked at the audience through the micro-drone, they all stared wide-eyed, watching all this happen in disbelief, "How, how is it possible?!"

You must know that any sacred-blood creature can control a certain amount of ether, but each sacred-blood species has different energy attributes that it is good at manipulating. The most obvious external difference is the color of the ether.

"How can these human beings have blood energy?" A blood slave officer said tremblingly. Compared with the oppressive feeling that the torrent gave him, what made him more concerned was why these human beings could use the red blood energy exclusive to the blood race,

"No, it's not blood energy."

Another blood officer corrected him and said softly, "Don't you feel it? The energy itself."

Indeed, different from the viciousness of blood energy, the imposing manner of the red torrent is so broad, warm and firm, just like the sun rising from the rising sun and shining across the land.

The interference of the will in reality, or the substitution of one's own mind for the heavenly mind, has been a long-discussed issue among ancient and modern Chinese and foreign mystics.

It is undeniable that no matter which mysterious sect agrees more or less with the theory that "human will has higher priority than real matter".

Although the emergence of materialist dialectical philosophy in modern times has attacked this idealist thought, is it really wrong for "will to interfere with reality"?
Li Ang didn't think so.

He has tampered with the spell-casting certificates of thousands of magic net users. The nano-metals can automatically liquefy at critical moments, cover the human body again, and expand the army of more magic net users.

With the activation of the ether energy towers set up in various areas of London, endless and inexhaustible ether rushed over.

Such a huge amount of ether is definitely not something ordinary people can accept. Even a strong man like the blood elder or Dumbledore will be "supported" by the huge amount of ether in the first place.

The solution that Li Ang came up with was the parallel connection in the circuit.

He regards hundreds of thousands or millions of people as load-bearing nodes in the Ethernet network, and jointly bears such a huge amount of ether.

Although these people know nothing about how to summon and control the ether, the uniforms they wear can also help them, in the collective unconsciousness, follow their heart, and carry out the simplest extraordinary energy release-light cannon.

And the extremely high-pitched anger, sadness, unyielding and other extreme emotions in the hearts of the people were also integrated into the light cannon.

Coupled with the auxiliary guidance of the "super aiming" of the spell-casting equipment, a light cannon like the red torrent becomes an indestructible strategic weapon.

This energy instinctively aroused the fear of the blood slaves. They stretched out their long and narrow fangs, and the scarlet blood rose from their feet, forming a dense shield, blocking the front of the torrent.

However, to no avail.

The red torrent flowing from the chests of the people swept across the entire Trafalgar Square with lightning speed, engulfing hundreds of blood slaves.

The red torrent is noisy and boiling, and the flood of light quality is as substantial as it is, rushing and flowing along the gaps between the bricks in the square.

After a long time, the torrent disappeared.

Everyone held their breath and looked towards the center of Trafalgar Square.

On the stone floor covered with barbed wire, concrete low walls, and machine gun towers, the group of ordinary human soldiers still stood in place. They looked at themselves unscathed blankly, and after confirming that they were still alive, they looked at each other. .

And those blood slaves melted.

That's right, like popsicles in the hot summer or shaved ice in a scrapped refrigerator, these blood slaves tend to half-melt.

Most of them knelt in place, their carbon fiber knee pads touching the ground, rubbing against Sha Shuo.

In the eye sockets of the blood slaves, the eyeballs have quietly ruptured, and a light yellow crystal liquid is gurgling out from the empty eye sockets.

They didn't scream, more precisely, they couldn't scream any more - most of the blood slaves' cheeks were already covered with holes and scars, and the hollow mouth was full of cool drafts.

What's even more creepy is that the skin on the chest of these blood slaves is completely festered, the red and white skin is just exposed in the air, and the beating heart below can be vaguely seen through the ribs.

The rancid plasma spilled all over the ground, and the black-red blood just stirred the dust, and the top blood layer had already formed a hard scab.

"Candles, melted candles."

Among the crowd, someone murmured to himself, and this extremely apt metaphor was immediately recognized by the others deep in their hearts.

"no no!"

Sir Humphrey Applebill stared at the video transmitted by the micro-drone, watching all this happen in disbelief.

He clenched his teeth, trembling all over.And behind him was the indifferent Prime Minister Rachel Rose.

"Humphrey, you lost."

Prime Minister Ross shook his head and said, "Who would have thought that? That seemingly ordinary Chinese young entrepreneur turned out to be a giant deep-water crocodile. He is the player in this chess game."

"shut up!"

Sir Applebill, who had completely given up on "decentness", turned his head suddenly, looking like a madman, and roared sharply: "What do you know? The blood race is invincible and invincible, no one can challenge our glory! No one !"

The roar of this vampire has exceeded the limit of the human body. Prime Minister Ross, who faced Sir Humphrey Applebeer head-on, had faint bloodstains from his ears and nose, and the capillaries on the skin of his body also burst. Pink, looks extremely miserable and terrifying.

Sir Applebil bared his fangs
Stepping forward half a step, he grabbed Prime Minister Rose's neck with one hand, "Damn it! Tell me, woman, what do you know?"

Prime Minister Ross coughed hard, her face was flushed, and there were bright red handprints on her slender neck, but she still looked at Sir Applebil with cold eyes, without saying a word.

"Enough, Humphrey!"

A blood clan stepped forward and prevented Sir Applebere from killing the prime minister of a country, "What we have to do now is to stop the loss! Find out who Leon is! What exactly does he want!"

Li Ang, who they were talking about, was leisurely putting down the microphone, turning off the broadcast button, looking at the blood slave British officer in a half-melted state, and said to himself: "As the saying goes, the silkworms will die when the silkworms die, and the wax torch will turn into ashes and tears." Let's do it."

(End of this chapter)