The master comes down the mountain: I don’t want to be a son-in-law

The scene of dozens of vampires gnawing on Joyce's corpse in the nave of the Black Church is horrifying, but it is nothing compared to the thousands of ghosts in Bradborough's underground palace.

At this time, Li Muchen was among thousands of resentful spirits.

Count Dracula's laughter still echoed in the dim underground palace.

"Do you feel their resentment? Yes, their hatred is overwhelming! They hate anything alive because they themselves are dead!"

"Human beings are like this. They will not hate those who really harmed them and oppressed them. They will only hate those who are equally pitiful as them but have a better life than them."

"We have drained their blood, but they will not hate us, because we have divinity in us. They will not hate God, nor dare to hate God. They will only hate those who are still alive, such as you. Why It wasn’t you who died, but them? So they will ask for your life!”

"Ah, you can kill them all! Let these resentful spirits disappear from the world, but you will have to bear these grievances and hatred. You will face the punishment of heaven, and boundless thunder disasters are waiting for you. Maybe It will come down now.”

"Of course, you can also open a gap and let them out. There are more creatures outside that can draw away their resentment. The 100,000 people in Brasov will be torn into pieces by them, and then another 100,000 people in the West will be torn into pieces. All evil spirits full of resentment. Hahahaha..."

Dracula felt very satisfied when he saw Li Muchen standing there motionless, as if he was in a dilemma.

Sitting on the ornate chair in the underground palace with snakes and bats carved on the armrests felt like the coronation of a king.

"In a little while, the ceremony of the Black Church will be completed, the vampires will be redeemed, we will return to God's side, and you will be beyond redemption!"

"Really? I don't know if you vampires can be redeemed, but I can bet that you won't be redeemed." Li Muchen said coldly.

Dracula was stunned and frowned unconsciously.

He didn't know where Li Muchen got his confidence and why he was still so calm now. Shouldn't he be panicking and in a dilemma?

"Hmph, let me see if you have any way to escape from these undead souls, kill them all, and then be punished by heaven forever?"

"No need. I don't cultivate the way of heaven, I only cultivate myself. Whether they are alive, dead, resentful, or grateful has nothing to do with me. But..."

Li Muchen smiled slightly.

"I can bring the power of heaven here. You vampires have killed so many living beings. You are the ones who should bear the tribulations of heaven!"

Dracula had a look of contempt on his face: "Stop trying to show off, you Eastern warlocks will only try to show off with your words. The power of the hidden way of heaven comes over, laugh to death, this is Brasov, on the land of Europa, your way of heaven What doesn’t work, we have our God!”

"Really? Let's see if your god will bless you."

After Li Muchen finished speaking, he raised one hand above his head, with his palm facing the sky, as if he was lifting something, and as if he was trying to catch something.

Dracula looked at him as if he were watching a joke. After waiting for a long time and nothing happened, he smiled and said, "Stop acting, this is not a stage."

But at this moment, he discovered something unusual.

Those resentful spirits originally surged toward Li Muchen like a tide, but were blocked by Li Muchen's own magic field. They kept attacking in a steady stream. As soon as Li Muchen's magic power is exhausted, they will pounce on him, suck his body dry and tear his soul into pieces.

But now, these thousands of resentful spirits suddenly became sluggish, like a robot that suddenly ran out of power and stopped motionless.

And Dracula discovered that the huge resentment was dissipating, not disappearing, but being guided to another space by a strange force.

Dracula suddenly woke up and looked up, with a look of horror in his eyes.

Looking through the thick rocks above him and the dome of the ancient castle, he saw that the sky was filled with thick dark clouds.

He heard the forest around Bradburg whimpering in the wind.

"What's going on? What kind of power is this?"

Dracula felt a powerful and mysterious force taking shape.

This power does not belong to gods, at least not to the gods he has come into contact with in the past.

"What exactly did you do?" He turned his attention back to Li Muchen and looked at him in disbelief.

Li Muchen didn't answer him, he just raised his palm and gently shook it, saying, "I'm borrowing a way!"

A thick bolt of lightning split the clouds, penetrated into the forest, and landed on the spire of Bradburg with an earth-shaking bang.

The lightning continued, and electricity flowed down from the spire like mercury, covering the roofs and walls of Bullard Castle and seeping into the ground.

Everything that is dark, damp, dirty, bloody, and filthy is annihilated in the current.

The current continues to spread outward, sweeping through everything around it along forest paths, streams, and crevices in rocks.

Bradberg's basement was instantly filled with light.

Those currents were flowing down along the roof, walls, and stone pillars, setting up a dense power grid in the underground palace.

The resentment gradually dissipated along with all the dampness and darkness.

The figures of those resentful spirits gradually faded.

The facial features that were originally unclear became clear, a relieved smile appeared, and then disappeared into the void.

The crutch in Dracula's hand fell to the ground, and his whole body was shaking. Whether it was fear of the lightning or Li Muchen's strength, his heart was filled with fear.

He wanted to know what was going on, who was this guy in front of him, and where did this lightning come from?

Can the power of heaven and gods really be borrowed?

Or is it that the person in front of you is a god?

It's a pity that he didn't get the chance to find out.

Because lightning has wrapped around his body, although he has been able to walk freely in the sun for a long time, he is still afraid of light.

After all, the blood flowing in his body was not the real original blood. The blood he borrowed from Lilith was not enough to allow him to resist such strong electric light.

Dracula's expression was painful and twisted, and his body began to split and disintegrate in the electric light...

He saw death waving to him.

It’s just that he is unwilling to give in. After a thousand years of dormancy and five hundred years of practice, from a dark and humid crypt to a grand castle, he is about to succeed...

……

When that thick and powerful lightning fell over Bradburg, many places on Europa suffered sudden lightning strikes at the same time.

Thousands of lightnings fell in different cities in different countries and regions.

Wherever there were vampires, they were struck by thunder.

This is a punishment from heaven.

The Black Church in Bratislava is certainly no exception.

Those vampires were lying on Joyce's corpse, sucking greedily. The lightning suddenly came and crawled densely along the gaps in the dome's relief, crawling out the outlines of the Virgin Mary and the Son in her arms.

The vampires on the ground fled to the west like ants on a hot pot, their bodies wrapped in lightning, like a swarm of mosquitoes falling on an electric mosquito swatter, accompanied by bright lights and beeping sounds, and pungent smoke.

The vampire quickly disappeared, and the remaining electricity converged along the floor and onto Joyce.

Joyce's body floated slowly, and the electric currents merged into his body, replacing his lost blood, and rushed into his heart.

There, there is a feather floating in my heart, like a small boat moored in the harbor.

In the blooming light, feathers extended to the left and right, passing out from both sides, and a pair of wings slowly opened behind him, like angel wings, white and bright.