"Bang!"

The mirror was broken and turned into countless blood-red butterflies flying in the air.

Every butterfly is like a drop of blood, accusing the cruelty of fate.

Cai Wen sat on the ground with his eyes empty, as if he had lost his soul.

"Girl, do you know? Destiny is like a net, no one can escape." Xi Wujiang's voice rang in her ears like a whisper from hell, "And you are destined to be my sacrifice."

He stretched out his hand and gently stroked Cai Wenshuang's cheek.

"Your bloodline and your soul will belong to me."

Suddenly, he turned his head suddenly and looked at another corner of the underground palace.

"who?!"

Cai Wen sat on the ground with his eyes empty, as if he had lost his soul.

Xi Wujiang's fingers gently stroked her cheeks, and her greedy and possessive eyes made her feel chills.

At this moment, a burst of rapid footsteps broke the silence of the underground palace.

"Be careful! This is from the God-killing Bureau..." As soon as Master Qingfeng's voice sounded, a silver light flew out of the mirror, piercing his heart.

Taoist Qingfeng's body trembled suddenly, blood splattered everywhere. He fell to the ground, blood was overflowing from the corners of his mouth, but his eyes were still wide open, full of fear and reluctance.

"????!" Guanglingzi's Cai Wenshuang felt a stern heart. Although her body was imprisoned, she could still sense the fatal threat approaching her.

"Girl, your mother was back then..." Lao Cai's voice was choked with a hint of sob. He suddenly rushed over and blocked the flying poison needle with his body.

The poisonous needle penetrated Lao Cai's back deeply. In the severe pain, his feet weakened and fell in front of Cai Wenshuang.

"Dad!" Cai Wenshuang's voice was crying. She struggled to get up, but found that she was still unable to move.

Lao Cai showed a loving smile on his face, and despite the bloodstains, his eyes were still gentle.

"Don't be afraid, girl, dad will protect you." Old Cai's voice gradually weakened, and his hand gently stroked Cai Wenshuang's hair, as if comforting her, as if saying goodbye.

Xi Wujiang's face became gloomy. He suddenly rushed forward and hugged Guanglingzi. The latter was coughing blood. Xi Wujiang's voice was cold and firm: "Loyal servant, you have indeed found the truth in the mirror I set up."

Guanglingzi's breathing was rapid. He struggled to look at Xi Wujiang, and Cai Wenshuang's pupils flashed in his eyes: "Master, now it's time to let the twins live in blood..."

Before she finished speaking, Cai Wenshuang gritted her teeth and threw the blood butterfly in her hand towards Guanglingzi.

The blood butterfly drew a blood-red trajectory in the air, piercing Guanglingzi's heart.

Guanglingzi's expression instantly solidified, and the blood butterfly nailed deep into his chest. He was nailed to the wall, and blood slid down his body, forming a shocking blood mark.

"Master..." Guanglingzi's voice was weak and full of reluctance.

The play is boundless

"You are indeed a smart person, a pity..." Xi Wujiang's voice was low and cold, and he reached out to touch Guang Lingzi's chest.

Xi Wujiang pulled out half of the blood-stained jade slip from Guanglingzi's body: "So you found the diary of Xi's mother." Cai Wenshuang suddenly pressed Xi Wujiang's heart into his heart: "Then let me see three hundred years ago..."

The residual soul of the mother of the opera emerged from the depths of the underground palace: "The twin bloodlines need to be integrated..." Lao Cai suddenly poured the last half bottle of medicine on the residual soul: "This is the magic potion you prepared back then!"

Cai Wenshuang saw the heart-wrenching scene of his mother in front of the scene: "Sister, only the child of my sister..." Xi Wujiang suddenly laughed: "It turns out that the God-killing Bureau is not at all..."

Xi Wujiang's hand, as accurate as an eagle's claw, slowly pulled out half of the jade slip from the bloody wound on Guanglingzi's chest.

The jade slip was mottled with blood, but there was a faint sense of ancient and mysterious aura.

"So... you found the diary of the mother of Xi." Xi Wujiang's voice was low and playful, as if he was enjoying an exquisite work of art, rather than facing the tragic death of the loyal servant.

Cai Wenshuang's pupils suddenly contracted, like two stars that were forced into desperate situations.

She suddenly exerted force, and her slender palm contained the power of landslides and cracks. She suddenly pressed Xi Wujiang's heart into her heart!

"Then let me see what happened three hundred years ago!" Cai Wenshuang's voice was determined and shrill, like a sad song composed in blood.

At that moment, time seemed to freeze.

Xi Wujiang's heart is closely connected with Cai Wenshuang's heart and mouth, and is connected with blood.

A strange resonance flowed between the two, as if to swallow each other's souls.

"Boom..."

Deep in the underground palace, there were dull roars, like the roar of an ancient giant beast, and like a sign of the collapse of the world.

An illusory figure slowly emerged.

It was the remnant soul of a woman, her clothes fluttered, but she couldn't hide the resentment and madness that filled her body.

It is the residual soul of the Mother of Mother! Three hundred years ago, the woman who planned the God-killing Bureau!

"Twin bloodlines... need to be integrated..." The voice of the remnant soul of the opera mother was intermittent, as if coming from the Nine Nether Hell. Every word was filled with endless curses and resentment.

She seemed to want to tell the final secret of the twin blood contract, but her words were interrupted by a sudden change.

"Swoosh!"

A sound of breaking through the air was sharp and harsh.

Lao Cai, the always taciturn mountain village man, burst out with amazing power at this moment.

He used all his last strength to splash the only half bottle of medicine in his hand at the residual soul of the opera mother!

"This is...the magic potion you prepared by yourself!" Lao Cai's voice was hoarse and trembling. Every word seemed to be squeezed out of his throat, with blood foam and despair.

The medicine drew a strange arc in the air, and it was accurately sprinkled on the remnant soul of the Mother of Mother.

"Sizi..."

A creepy sounded like a red soldering iron, baked on the flesh and blood.

The soul of the mother of the playboy let out a shrill scream, and her figure began to twist and dissipate.

"No! No! I hate! I hate!"

The voice of the mother's soul became weaker and weaker, and eventually turned into a wisp of blue smoke and dissipated in the underground palace.

At the same time, Cai Wenshuang's mind was like a flood that broke into the dam, pouring into countless broken pictures.

That was the memory from three hundred years ago, the memory of the Mother of Mother!

She saw a young woman kneeling in front of another woman and cried heart-wrenchingly: "Sister! Only let the younger sister's children... only let the younger sister's children... only to... only to... only to..."

"What can I do?" Cai Wenshuang's heart was so painful by this sudden scene.

She wanted to know the answer, and wanted to know what happened three hundred years ago, which made the opera mother so crazy and so desperate.

However, the picture came to an abrupt end.

The opera Wujiang suddenly burst into laughter, and the laughter was filled with madness and ridicule.

"Hahaha... it turns out... it turns out that the God Killing Bureau... it's not... it's not for..."

He seemed to understand something, but his words stopped again.

What is not? What is the truth of the God Killing Bureau?

Xi Wujiang's laughter became lower and lower, and eventually turned into a strange silence.

His eyes became empty and confused, as if he had lost his soul.

Cai Wenshuang's heart was full of doubts and uneasiness. She wanted to ask, but she didn't know where to ask.

Just then, a slight vibration suddenly came from the ground.

One hand, a pale, dry, blood-filled hand, slowly stretched out from the ground, grabbing Xi Wujiang's ankle tightly... The earth made a low, hoarse roar, shaking the ancient stones of the tomb.

Dust fell like rain from the vaulted ceiling, and the flashing torch lights began a weird dance, casting strange shadows on the shaky walls.

From the cracked land, a hand—a skinny and covered with the dirt of time—was pulled out.

The nails were long and broken, covered with residue from hundreds of years of soil, and the skin was tightly tied to the bones, and the color was like parchment.

This is the hand of the commander of the Dark Guard, or rather, the only remaining part of him—a uneasy soul, bound to this evil place.

He stood up dragging his body, his body a piece of decay and ghostly energy, his eyes flashing with cold blue light.

A giggling cough came from his ruined throat, the sound was like dry leaves rustling on the tombstone.

"…The real container…is…” he said hoarsely, his voice echoing in the tomb.

He stretched out a trembling hand and reached out toward...who?
Chapter completed!