The snowfield began to crack, each fissure as if sliced open by an invisible blood light, and the end of the snow domain seemed to transform into a gigantic magic circle.
"I will ask one last time," Mr. Rocky, have you really not considered joining our Blood Clan?"
The silvery-white snowfield was whipped by the bone-chilling wind that billowed Count Gregory's long coat, yet the cold seemed non-existent to him.
"I truly admire you; your talent should be utilized by our Blood Clan."
The cracks gradually emanated light, and blood-colored mist rose into the sky, enveloping the entire snow domain in front of Siegler and Lanci as if tons of magic power were about to crash down.
His steps were slow and steady as he observed the expressions of Siegler and Lanci.
The little werewolf's breathing was full of exhaustion, his eyes brimming with confusion.
And beside her, the imperial craftsman remained expressionless, seemingly unaffected by any external emotions.
