Re: In My Bloody Hit Novel - Chapter 581

Chapter 581: The White Serpent King Is Back
Deamon and Dylan stood frozen, their minds struggling to process the horror unfolding before them. Their eyes were wide with disbelief, hearts pounding in their chests, as the grotesque transformation of Chiron’s body unfolded. The serpent, Manu Madayaki, had fully taken over, and the very air around them seemed to crackle with the weight of its power.

Deamon’s body trembled involuntarily as he watched the scene, his chest tightening in a way he had never felt before. His muscles ached from the tension that locked him in place.

His sword felt useless in his hand, like an ornamental piece of metal rather than the deadly weapon it once was. As the low, ominous *BOOM* sounds reverberated through the room, Deamon’s instincts screamed at him to run. But his feet wouldn’t move. His throat felt dry, and his mouth tasted like metal—fear had paralyzed him to the core.

Dylan, on the other hand, felt an ice-cold dread creeping up his spine. He could hear his own heartbeat thudding violently in his ears, his breath shallow and ragged.

His hands were slightly shaking, his fingers twitching towards his sword, but his grip was too weak to hold it. His normally focused mind was caught in a whirlwind of terror, and the energy coursing through his body froze as if under a spell.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, running down his face in cold rivulets. He knew, without a doubt, that they were in the presence of something far beyond anything they had ever encountered—a being that was no longer mortal, no longer bound by the laws of the world they knew. An abomination that had made the evidence of its existence known first to them.

Right now, having life was a literal privilege.

The explosions coming from Chiron’s body marked each stage of his gruesome transformation. *BOOM!*—another breakthrough, another step into a higher realm of power. Deamon and Dylan couldn’t tear their eyes away, even though every fiber of their beings screamed for them to look away, to hide from the sheer monstrosity. The sight of Chiron’s form warping, skin bulging and distorting as the serpent’s essence took hold, was a nightmare made flesh.

Then, suddenly, the figure before them settled. What had been Chiron’s body was now a grotesque version of itself, eyes glowing a sickly yellow and blinking in that cold, reptilian way. His smile—if it could still be called that—was twisted into something sinister, his lips pulled back to reveal sharp, inhuman teeth.

Deamon felt a cold sweat drip down his neck as the next words echoed through the room.

“The White Serpent King is back!” Manu Madayaki’s voice was no longer Chiron’s; it was deeper, filled with a reverberating power that seemed to shake the very ground beneath them. It wasn’t just a proclamation—it was a claim to dominion. The words resounded not only within the walls but far beyond, echoing across the land, seeping into the very air like a dark, creeping shadow.

Even those far off in the battlefield against the demons heard it loud and clear it was a declaration that even made the demon that had come here from the nether realm in search of Chiron pause and turn in the direction of the voice, surprise on its face as it frowned deeply.

Meanwhile, Dylan’s knees almost buckled under the weight of the voice, and he had to grit his teeth to keep himself standing. His mind raced. *This can’t be happening…* he thought. The overwhelming aura of the serpent king’s power left him choking on his own fear. The spiritual energy that once flowed through him was now inert, as though something far greater had commanded it to halt. His blood ran cold, as if chilled by the mere presence of this ancient being.

The serpent king’s next words were even more terrifying. “My time in prison has seen a dive in my cultivation, but being in the third rank of the Gold Realm is not bad!” The nonchalance in his voice—describing such god-like power as though it were nothing—was unnerving.

As the serpent king chuckled loudly, his snake-like eyes locked onto them. For the first time, Deamon and Dylan felt the full brunt of his gaze. It was like being pierced by daggers—sharp, cold, and suffocating.

They couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think. The aura radiating from the White Serpent King was so overwhelming, it made their bones feel heavy, their hearts slow, as if they were sinking into quicksand.

Manu’s face, a horrific mask of serpentine malice, gradually softened into something deceptively gentle, resuming chiron’s appearnce in its normalcy.

The contrast was stark and unsettling—a monstrous being now wearing a facade of calmness, though his eyes betrayed the truth.

The yellow irises, with their vertical pupils, remained unmistakably reptilian, flickering with the sinister energy of the serpent king now inhabiting Chiron’s body.

As he approached Deamon and Dylan, each step was deliberate, calculated, and carried an ominous weight. The air seemed to thicken around them, their bodies still paralyzed by the overwhelming power that radiated from him. Manu’s presence was suffocating, pressing down on them like a physical force. He loomed over them, a predator assessing his prey.

“Hmmm,” Manu murmured, his voice smooth and eerily calm. “It’s customary to kneel in my presence, but I can understand that your knees refuse to listen to you.” His words dripped with condescension, his amusement barely concealed beneath the surface.

He then turned his gaze to Dylan, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned in closer. “Chiron’s last words were to tell you, he is sorry for not being a better friend.” Manu’s voice was soft, almost kind, as if delivering a final farewell from the friend who was now lost forever. But then, with a cruel twist to his lips, he added, “I already gave my word to spare you, but nothing about leaving you in one piece.”

There was no warning, no time to react. In an instant, Manu’s long, serpentine tongue lashed out from his mouth, moving faster than a striking viper. The motion was fluid, almost graceful, but the result was anything but.

*Slash!*

The sound of flesh being torn was sickening, sharp and wet. Dylan didn’t even have time to scream. His eyes widened in shock as he felt his arms and legs severed from his body in one swift, merciless movement.

Blood sprayed out in gruesome arcs, painting the ground beneath them in a dark crimson. His torso, now dismembered, fell heavily to the ground with a dull, lifeless *thump*. The pain was unimaginable, a searing agony that raced through every nerve, but it all happened so quickly that Dylan’s mind could barely process it. His vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges as his body went into shock, the blood pouring out of him in torrents.

Manu, without even a flicker of emotion, turned his attention to Deamon. The gentle expression on his face twisted into something vile, a predatory grin that revealed his true nature. “You, on the other hand… delicious,” he hissed, the words a promise of the torment to come.

Deamon’s heart pounded in his chest, a wild, frantic rhythm that he could feel in his throat, his ears, his temples. Fear was all-consuming, a cold terror that gripped his very soul as Manu’s tongue lashed out again.

This time, it was not a mere slice—it was a gruesome, slow intrusion. The pointed tip of the tongue burrowed into Deamon’s chest, piercing flesh and bone with an agonizing slowness that made his breath catch in his throat. His eyes bulged in shock, unable to look away as he felt the cold, slimy muscle wrap around his still-beating heart.

Manu’s grin widened as he began to pull. The sensation was indescribable—Deamon could feel his heart being ripped from its place in his chest, the very organ that kept him alive being stolen from him. His eyes, wide with horror, followed the motion as his heart was dragged out of his body, still beating weakly, veins and arteries snapping like fragile threads. The world around him dimmed, the edges of his vision darkening, but he was still conscious—still fully aware of the horror unfolding before him.

Manu brought the heart to his mouth, his tongue retracting as he held the organ aloft, dripping with fresh blood. The serpent king’s eyes gleamed with a sadistic pleasure, his mouth opening wide to accept the offering.

He bit into the heart, the sound of tearing flesh mingling with the wet squelch of blood being sucked down. The heart, still pulsing weakly, was devoured whole, sliding down Manu’s throat in one gruesome gulp.

Deamon’s body convulsed, a violent shudder as the life drained from him, his gaze still locked on the sight of his own heart being consumed. The last thing he felt was the cold, chilling grip of death, as his vision faded into darkness, his body crumpling to the ground, lifeless. He did not even get the chance to ever tell Dylan his true feelings. Such was the reality of LOSS.

Manu, now fully in control, licked the blood from his lips, savoring the taste with a sick satisfaction. He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that echoed off the walls, filling the room with its sinister vibration. The aura of power around him intensified, a dark, oppressive force that seemed to weigh down on everything in its presence.

He looked down at the remains of Deamon and Dylan, his gaze cold and detached, as if they were nothing more than discarded toys.

And then he turned to leave.

It was only after he left did Dylan’s senses resume their normalcy, storming his mind with so much pain that as he screamed, he was already blanking out. The last thing he saw was the feet of the precious land Orc spirit above him, “its not yet over…” one of her heads whispered.

(Author’s note: I know it came late, but I had two other people review the darkness in this chapter. really hope you felt the chill…)