BLOODY LOVE'S

Episode 233

It's shaped like a fire lick. Robert never saw anything like it. He thought the man's body on the stretcher was smoky because the charred was shot. But after careful consideration, it was not smoke. It looks more like fire. The black flames soared up into the sky, gathering like cloudless clouds without lightning.

Marco did not believe that there were immortal beings. According to him, something that had a physical body would definitely die if its physique was destroyed. That's why he made this plan. Shooting turns were made to smash Sir William's body into small pieces of flesh and bone, but strangely the man remained intact. No one could see exactly how the man's wound looked. On his gaping body and face, black smoke covered blocking the view, it was like seeing Argent workers shooting at embers that had just been doused in water.

Robert was about to approach Marco to warn him to be more careful, but he was soon canceled. Marco is still in full alert mode and his focus is on Sir William. Getting close without being told will be annoying. Finally Robert gave a code to one of the officers to follow the troops with a pedati containing ammunition and weapons. Mr. Stuart strictly forbade him from approaching so as not to interfere with the path of alternating firing lines and recharge lines.

The sound of gunfire echoed loudly regularly in Bjork. The smell of gunpowder filled the entire alley passed by the workers, creating air pollution.

From the balconies of several houses on the path to the South, photographers belonging to several newspapers had already been prepared by Lady Chantall. It's now nine o'clock in the evening, but the city is deliberately brightly lit in order to get a good picture. Street lights were lit and torches were set up. It was like Bjork at the festival. There are no civilians on the streets.

Lady Chantall was on one of her hotel balconies in Bjork, observing Marco's arrival with an anxious heartbeat mixed with pride. His hands were interlocked in front of his face, still in the same pose as he had been desperately praying ever since. Prayer granted. Marco reentered Bjork unharmed. Indeed, the monsters he dragged to the South were not immediately wiped out, but they were almost halfway to the South. Lady Chantall began to be optimistic on the success of their plan. He wanted to shout to announce to everyone that the man who bravely fought the demons down there was his. Her favorite.

As soon as the rowdy party was about to pass her hotel, Lady Chantall was soon busy styling her hair with her fingers. Marco couldn't possibly look at him, but who knows? If the man happens to raise his face, he wants to be ready to wave and give the sweetest smile. After this was over, he thought expectantly. She tidied up her dress. I have to ascertain the meaning of his words.

Marco tells him that they will continue to meet tomorrow and tomorrow again and continue tomorrow again. At first Lady Chantall didn't think much about what those words meant. But after a few hours of pondering, he realized that it might be a proposal. It sounds like a proposal. They slept together several times. Although Marco has yet to give a definitive answer as to how he feels, Lady Chantall is convinced they love each other. He hopes so. He hopes the two of them can be together next. It must have been nice to see him always every time he woke up and went to sleep again, then Marco would re-enter his body again and again every day, filling it up until he was too full to accept anything else.

Ah, dreams. Lady Chantall bit her lower lip. Cheeks heating.

As if hearing his hope, Marco raised his face. Lady Chantall's heart stops beating when their eyes meet. He did not wave or smile. He was too shocked and happy to be unable to move. Then Marco waved at him loudly.

Ah, no. Lady Chantall realized in horror. Backs goosebumps. The man did not wave, but drove him away. He only realized now that the situation below was chaotic. Some Argent workers fell on the ground, motionless. His eyes shifted in the other direction, seeing some people shooting Sir William— who had now risen from his sign and also raised his face up.

Lady Chantall followed the direction of the man's gaze, surprised when looking right above her hotel, the black clouds hanging to form a demonic look. It was a human face, but so strange, so flabby, it felt so familiar as if he had seen it once somewhere. Lady Chantall's mouth saw it. He could not turn his face away, even if it seemed to plunge and plow his consciousness. Hot eyes. The sound of people screaming in panic below was the only thing that made her aware and made Lady Chantall able to turn her face.

"Marco!" He gasped to see the man had already come down from the horse, probably falling because Marco was rising from the road. The gun is not in hand. Imbrue was no longer there. Lady Chantall immediately twisted her body and turned down, the sound of her shoes twitching on the cold granite floor. How did this happen? Everything was fine! Why did Sir William recover?

Tears made his eyes blurry. Lady Chantall blinked vigorously and shook her head, trying to hold on so as not to fall. The commotion outside could not be heard from the corridor of the hotel, but he could feel it as if it were out there. He felt something like being forcefully yanked out of his chest cavity, making him unable to breathe. Bad feelings gnawed at him.

This can't happen! Nah! Nah! Nah! Nah!

Lady Chantal ran down the stairs. The right of his shoes was broken on the second ladder he passed, making him roll down with his head hitting the wall. Someone helped him up, he didn't know who. After saying thank you, he walked back. Feels dizzy. He took off one by one his shoes while continuing down the stairs, throwing them carelessly behind. The shoes were expensive, the embellishments were inscribed with opal stones. He doesn't care. The only thing on his head right now is Marco. The bulk of his memory was as if it had collapsed, making all memories and memories flow rapidly without being stopped. Lady Chantall swept her palm against the corridor wall, breathing heavily while swinging a step, her agony voice echoing in the high arched ceiling.

Cold air rushed at him fiercely, ruffling his curly hair backwards. His cape coat flapped slapping his back. He looked around, looking around. His eyes searched and found Marco. The man faced towards him far across the street, covered in Sir William's body.

"Don't" whispered Lady Chantall, unable to find the strength to shout. He ran but someone grabbed his waist, holding him back. Lady Chantall nudging and kicking.

"You could get a stray bullet!" a rough and heavy voice. Robert's Voice.

Lady Chantall heard the horror in the tone of the man's voice. He called out to Marco. “Let me go, let me go, I have to go there.” He whispered so quickly and softly, he was compassionate to Robert. Salty tears flowed into the corner of the lips as he spoke, “I'll give you anything, let go of me Rob.” Already late. His eyes saw how an elephant-headed monster came out of the black particles that enveloped Sir William like a protective mist. The monster floated in the air, the waist down disappeared in smoke as it evaporated. He uses his trunk as a weapon, stabbing Marco through his body.

Lady Chantall swore she could hear the sound of the stab, the sound of something sharp piercing the human body. After that all the other sounds disappeared from his ears. He saw Marco fall to the ground quickly. His blood is flowing so hard. Very much.

Sir William looked around, at the patrolling policemen who started shooting. The Argent workers rampaged to see their master fall. Everyone ran over.

One glance. With just a single glance, everyone who approached Sir William turned into a black shard that was lost in the wind. It was the same black flakes that rolled in the sky. But the sky is so clean now. There was no more demon face there.

The devil has moved, Lady Chantall realized.

Sir William bowed, forcibly removing the coat Marco was wearing and wearing for himself, covering his torn clothes due to a gunshot attack. His skin is as smooth as a baby. There was no visible wound.

No, no, Lady Chantall is still fighting back, making her coat loose fall onto the pavement. Robert dragged her into an alley because the hotel door behind them would not open.

No, Lady Chantall wants to scream. No, please, no, don't take him, don't. When opening the lips that came out only a choking sound. Sweat flooded his body, making his skin slippery and shiny wet. He managed to escape from Robert and ran to get to Marco's body on the road.

Someone caught him back. Adrian Marsh's. He knew the young man. The young lord was stronger than Robert.

"Sorry, milady, we have to take cover first!"

Nah! Why are you guys quiet? He's still alive. Marco is still alive, Lady Chantall shouted. No one responded. Maybe he didn't really make a sound just now. Everything was still quiet in his head. He was dragged forcibly away, only able to watch helplessly how Sir William pulled Marco's face down from his collar, dragging him away like a sack of rice. The silver-haired head drooped on the chest. His blood soaked the stone streets of Bjork, forming a leech-like trail. The street lights went out as the two left.

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