"Oh, time, time! The most precious thing, yet the least worth mentioning." Piffed spread his palm in front of Lynch, and then said, "Go participate in the blood war, it's best to join the Duke of Cania's expedition team. There, at least your chances of survival will be much higher. More importantly, the route they take will bring you unexpected surprises."

"Unexpected surprises?" Lynch hovered the gemstone above the devil's palm, he asked, "It seems you know a lot. Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Oh, yes, there is something very important." Piffed clasped the gemstone in his hand and displayed his dreadful smile once more: "You need a pair of good shoes, very good shoes!"

So Lynch left the Curse Bone Gate, with Eryies. He looked down at his feet, searching for the shadow that had vanished. Since there was no obvious light source in the sky, the mage's small frame could not cast a visible shadow, making Lynch feel somewhat unnatural. In his mind, the mage seemed like a feather flying in the air, carried by the fierce wind over a burning forest. A single misstep could shatter him completely.

He turned back to look at the Desire Demon, this female devil always following him, bound and drawn by oath. Lynch turned to face Eryies, coughed lightly: "You, do you want freedom? I mean complete freedom. The expedition of the blood war is not suitable for you."

"Oh, dear, I should be the one saying that." Eryies responded: "You need a guide you can trust, someone to lead or advise you. When it comes to the blood war, I think I know much more than you do."

Lynch lowered his head, not letting anyone see his expression, preventing anyone from understanding what he was thinking. Eryies kept tilting her head, a smile on her face. She knew in her heart that the mage would eventually raise his head, then ask in a puzzled tone: "What is your goal, Desire Demon? What do you want? What is more valuable than your own freedom?"

'Then, I can start tempting him step by step.' Eryies thought, 'Compassion and curiosity are the easiest to exploit, whether someone is a saint or a rogue scoundrel, none can escape such circles.'

Lynch raised his head, indeed as the Desire Demon had anticipated. But in his eyes, there was not the future, only a flickering light. He spoke in a voice as steadfast as a rock. "If you want to follow, then follow."

Then the mage turned and walked towards the outside of the Bronze Fortress, first needing to reach the second layer of Bator Hell, which was also the starting point for the Duke of Cania—provided the Abyss Demon hadn't deceived him on this point.

The red robe brushed against the dust-covered ground here, like silk gently flowing over smooth skin, leaving not a trace behind. In the eyes of the devil, the mage before him was just an ordinary human, one among many who came to Bator Hell seeking opportunities to prove their strength, and even in the eyes of the Blood Battle Commander, he was merely a number—a minor end count in the total sacrifices of the blood war.

This young mage's steps wouldn't even leave a trace on the ground; however, Eryies had a feeling that he would leave his name in Bator's history. So many strong men tried to engrave their mark but were insignificant, yet the back before her would endure like this cursed plane itself.

Eryies trusted her intuition, because she was still alive. Having survived thousands of blood wars, the Desire Demon had relied on such intuition to escape unscathed. Unconsciously, she and the mage had covered some distance, and the mage did not slow his pace. Eryies smiled, bounding alongside cheerfully.

Outside the Bronze Fortress, a stench of blood still lingered, the battle had just ended, and the air had not yet fully dissolved the dead. The red foams of blood clung like sticky gel, adhering to the skin and feeling greasy. But Lynch found the hardest part to endure was that such an environment felt like an airtight paper or sack, completely enveloping all the 'Babblers'. The stifling atmosphere oppressed you, compelling you to shout out loud, yet simultaneously stuffing your throat firmly with a fetid sock.

It was all because of this endless war—Lynch thought, blaming these fallen on the ground, their bodies shattered, intestines mingling with brain matter, for the responsibility. And those already damaged weapons, smeared with black stains and notches chipped by hard bones. Lynch even found the face of an Arrow Demon on a shield—a result of a shield bash.

Lynch levitated his body off the ground, now capable of using spiritual power to support his entire weight, avoiding stepping on the red-black ground. The pain would stick to his feet, climb up his calves, then drag him into a whirlpool of slaughter, drowning in the swamp of death.

The Desire Demon also spread her wings, closely following the mage. The situation disgusted her as well, although she had seen such scenes countless times, she still felt the same aversion and repulsion as when she first opened her eyes and saw Bator's true face. Eryies raised her head, gazing at the clouds where lightning flashed and flickered—legend says every electric spark was a fallen soul, descending from its world to Bator Hell, the only difference being to which layer it would land. Now, the electric sparks had connected into lightning, roaring angrily at high altitudes and cursing this world. For the first time, the Desire Demon noticed she couldn't distinguish the rumbling thunder, or perhaps such sounds had already merged into one. The breath of Bator Hell had completely penetrated her being, weren't those flashes a part of her?

A gigantic white spire appeared in their vision, rising high from the ground, like a sharp stake fiercely stabbing at the sky. That was the famous Skull Spire—not some mere imitation, but the most iconic scene of Bator Hell's first layer. The towering burial ground, using the heads of countless sacrifices piled up, was a place where the devils flaunted their trophies. Soon enough, when the dust had thoroughly decayed those sacrifices, some imps would transport the remaining white skulls to the White Bone Spire. Since this is Hell's first layer, devils believed that with enough height, they could construct a passage directly to the Main Material Plane. That way, they could more easily attract the fallen souls, and the empowered devils could finally achieve victory in the blood war.

Lynch did not understand why the devils did not fully devote themselves to building that tower. 'Perhaps deep down, they don't want to end this war. They have long become accustomed to the blood war and don't want to change anymore. This evil war has become part of their bone marrow, unable to leave.'

"That is the passage downward, dear." The Desire Demon quickened her pace, approaching the mage's body. "That is the Nether River and the Hell Falls. I don't want to wet my wings, so, dear, you must help me."

The mage did not speak, he simply nodded slightly.

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Introducing a book, fantasy genre "Bloodline of the Gods," by "Geng Su."

http://www.qidian.com/book/showbook.aspx?bookid=71607

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