Re: In My Bloody Hit Novel - Chapter 651

Chapter 651: Chiron Is Awake
Chiron opened his eyes to chaos. The air was thick with the scent of blood and burning flesh, punctuated by the desperate screams of people pleading for their lives. It was a symphony of anguish, raw and unrelenting.

The sky above was painted a deep crimson of the evening setting sun, as though even the heavens bore witness to the slaughter below.

He turned his head with great effort, his body still a battlefield of pain and strain. In the distance, he could see Hunter, his monstrous beast servant.

The Core Beast had evolved into a terrifying entity with a glowing purple core that pulsed like a heartbeat, radiating raw power.

Hunter’s jaws snapped shut around a fleeing villager, its massive form moving with both grace and ferocity as it tore through the terrified crowd.

Closer to the blood pool, Emma, stood amidst the carnage.

Her elegant form was drenched in gore, her eyes glowing a fierce crimson as she channeled the rivers of blood flowing from the dead.

With every movement of her hands, the blood coalesced into streams that spiraled into a massive, dark pool—a gruesome work of art created to sustain him. The pool churned and bubbled as if alive, its surface reflecting a distorted image of the moonlight above.

Emma turned about a bit only to see he was conscious.

Joy filled her heart so much that tears ran down her cheeks. “Its working, she muttered lightly. He is awake.”

But then Chiron shifted his gaze to his right, where Carla lay submerged in the same pool. Her pale, ethereal face was serene, almost peaceful, though he could feel her life essence ebbing away from her body in faint, glowing wisps.

The tendrils of energy wound their way into him, strengthening his shattered form with every passing moment.

The sounds of the dying around him seemed distant now, like echoes in a dream. His head was heavy, his mind strained. The exhaustion dragged him under once more, pulling him into an uneasy sleep.

—

He woke again to new horrors. This time, the victims being slaughtered were no longer humans but beast people. Their primal cries of fear and defiance rang out as Hunter mercilessly hunted them down, while Emma collected their blood with the same precision and grace as before.

The blood pool swelled larger, darker, its power radiating in waves that pulsed through Chiron’s broken body. He could hear Emma’s screams, “We need more blood. Slaughter the entire city.” She ordered Hunter, and the beast worked efficiently.

And then it happened…

Deep within his restless slumber, he found himself in a place unlike any other. It was a vast, void-like realm, illuminated by a cage of radiant golden light.

The bars shimmered with a celestial glow, pulsing softly with ancient energy. Inside the prison sat a figure—a man whose appearance mirrored Chiron’s own but with profound differences.

He was older, his features sharper and more weathered, exuding an aura of immense power and wisdom. His eyes gleamed with a divine gold that seemed to pierce through reality itself.

Chiron realized that he had been here before, a long time ago when he had lost his arms. Just like back then, he could not talk, like speech with his mortal tongue was forbidden in this place.

Chains of golden light bound the man’s neck, wrists, and ankles, their links swirling with the essence of eternity. He looked up at Chiron, his lips curling into a faint, wry smile.

“It would seem you have become stronger,” the man said, his voice deep and resonant, like the toll of a great bell. “Much, much stronger.”

But then the smile faded, replaced by a stern, disapproving frown. “Yet you are still far from it. When you can kill a god, I shall tell you more. But for now, know this…”

He leaned forward slightly, the chains groaning under the weight of his motion, and his golden eyes locked onto Chiron’s.

“This universe deserves cleansing by the sword.”

The words hit Chiron like thunder, a crack of power that reverberated through his very soul sending him reeling back in shock.

—

Chiron shot upright from the blood pool, gasping for air as if the weight of the vision had followed him into the waking world. His hand reached instinctively toward the sky, trembling as though grasping for something unseen. But above him, there was only the vast night sky.

The twin moons, quarter-full, hung side by side, casting their pale, silvery light over the world. They seemed like tears etched onto the face of a celestial maiden, mournful and distant. The stars dotted the heavens, cold and indifferent to the chaos below, their light flickering like whispers of a forgotten past.

The air was cool, carrying the faint metallic scent of blood mixed with the earthy tang of death. Chiron’s chest heaved as he tried to steady his breath, his heart pounding like a war drum. For a moment, all he could do was stare at the moons, their serene beauty a stark contrast to the nightmares within and around him.

Chiron suddenly turned his head to the side, his senses on edge, but there was no one there. The silence of the night pressed against his ears, broken only by the distant rustle of leaves and the faint crackle of fire somewhere far off. Slowly, he rose from the blood pool, the viscous liquid sliding off his skin like molten tar.

He glanced down at himself, noticing that he was completely naked, but more importantly, his body had completely healed. The gaping wounds, broken bones, and battered flesh were no more. Yet, the scars… the scars remained. They crisscrossed his body like a tapestry of pain and survival, each mark a story etched in his flesh, as countless as grass on a field.

Chiron staggered slightly as he took his first step, his legs unsteady beneath him. His body, though healed, felt foreign in its newfound strength. He paused, taking a deep breath and stretching his limbs, rolling his shoulders and flexing his fingers until he felt the tension ease. When he was ready, he waved his hand, summoning a long, dark robe from the system. The fabric shimmered briefly before settling over him, its weight was a bit more comforting as it cloaked his form.

As he moved away from the blood pool, he noticed the intricate traps that surrounded it. Wards, sigils, and physical snares—each one meticulously crafted. His servants hadn’t left him unprotected, even in his vulnerable state.

He walked toward the only source of light in the distance: a small fire glowing like a beacon against the darkened backdrop of the night. The closer he got, the clearer the voices became.

It was Emma, her tone sharp and commanding as she discussed their plans.

“The next villages should be to the east,” she was saying. “We’ll need to act quickly. The blood pool must be filled again so that Master will wake up.”

Chiron stepped into the circle of firelight, his shadow casting long and imposing across the ground. His voice cut through their conversation like a blade.

“That won’t be necessary,” he said, his tone calm yet resolute. He stepped closer, the firelight reflecting in his eyes. “At least not anymore.”

Emma froze mid-sentence, her white eyes widening as she turned to face him. The other servants, too, stopped what they were doing, their faces a mixture of relief, awe, and uncertainty.

The quiet authority in Chiron’s voice left no room for argument, and the air around the camp grew still as all eyes focused on him.