CHAPTER 1333: CHAPTER 1333: THE WEREWOLF LEADER KILLS PRINCE HARREN

Boom!

With a deafening noise, the shadowy figure of the Netherworld God, with a punch that dominated the world, suddenly halted.

A crack appeared abruptly on the fist, then swiftly spread!

Crack!

In an instant, the entire fist was covered in cracks, and then, unable to sustain itself, shattered with a roar in mid-air.

The violent force directly propelled the shadow of the Netherworld God backward, slamming into the ground behind, creating a massive crater.

The earth trembled, and dust shot into the sky.

Borgia and the others were all stunned.

A moment ago, that was supposed to be Prince Harren’s full strength attack, with no reservations.

Was it broken just like that?

Broken so simply like that?

Everyone couldn’t help but look towards Rob III.

This was someone who appeared very young, with eternally calm and deep eyes, seeming somewhat profound, but upon closer inspection, revealed a hint of dominance, as if born to be a king.

How terrifying this person must be!

The gaze of Rob III, however, was no longer on Harren, but looking towards the direction of the Blood Clan’s territory.

"A prince, who only barely learned some peripheral knowledge of the Netherworld God, is already so terrifying..." Rob III’s eyes seemed to penetrate through layers of space, "Then what about you? Hades, you who truly inherited the Netherworld God’s legacy, how strong have you become?"

He felt a sense of loneliness sincerely.

He was too strong.

In this world, there were already few who could match him.

Perhaps, only Hades among the Blood Clan could be a match for him.

No.

There should be another person.

Evil God!

The power of the Evil God, compared to him, seemed far inferior, but for some reason, Rob III had a feeling that this person might genuinely pose a threat to him.

Perhaps it was time to find a way, to thoroughly explore the true strength of the Evil God!

He was a cautious person, even with overwhelming power, reluctant to act recklessly.

"So, next, let’s have the Blood Clan and Sky Net have a good fight."

Rob III smiled, looking towards the distant giant pit, where Harren’s corpse lay.

A huge conspiracy had already matured in his heart.

...

In the deepest part of the vampire territory, there stood a grand ancient castle, emitting an atmosphere reminiscent of the Netherworld all year round. No vampire passing by would fail to show a look of awe.

This was the center of the vampires, the City of the Netherworld!

Hades’ domain.

At this moment, in the council hall of the City of the Netherworld, Hades, a woman with a cold expression, sat at the head of the round table.

In the other seats around the round table sat eleven elders of the Blood Clan.

This emulated the thirteen Ancestors of the Blood Clan.

At this council round table sat the people with the greatest authority in the entire Blood Clan!

However, this group, originally supposed to be composed of thirteen individuals, now only had twelve.

Because one of them was already dead.

And that was Harren!

The atmosphere in the council hall was heavy, and all the Blood Clan Elders remained silent.

An elder of Harren’s level, a mighty figure within the Blood Clan, had fallen—a rarity that hadn’t occurred for centuries.

When the Blood Clan discovered Harren’s body, he had long been dead, and his heart had been gouged out!

Moreover, around Harren lay the bodies of Borgia and other key Blood Clan figures. The loss was catastrophic.

The death of such a figure caused an immediate shakeup across the Blood Clan. Hades, the nominal overlord of the Blood Clan, convened this meeting to discuss strategies. The fall of a prince couldn’t be ignored!

The Blood Clan was determined to launch the most decisive retaliation!

But now there was a problem.

Who was the beast?

"Is there any doubt?" said one very handsome elder coldly. "The one who killed Harren was definitely the Evil God!"

The Netherworld God Hades looked towards the speaker, a terrifying presence within the Blood Clan, Dracula.

He lived in a castle perpetually surrounded by swarming bats, which bore the massive and heavy castle, making it float in the sky.

Every ten years, he would take a carriage transformed from bats to the human world to seek out stunning virgins and drain their blood dry.

Whenever he opened the carriage door, extending his pale hand and revealing his handsome face, no woman could resist his charm!

The women he chose were found as corpses the next day, their faces pale but with an expression of joy and satisfaction.

"It may not be the Evil God who killed Harren," Hades stated after a moment of silence.

"Lord Netherworld King, who else could the murderer of Harren be if not the Evil God?" another Blood Clan elder retorted coldly. "Harren controlled the Evil God’s subordinates. To help his subordinates break free from control, the Evil God has always tried to extract Harren’s heart. The discovery of Harren’s corpse without a heart proves this point!"

Hearing this, Hades’ brow furrowed slightly and looked at the speaking elder.

It was Nicola!

Nicola, known as the last vampire, was the most intelligent being within the Blood Clan, having invented countless things.

His research on electricity and magnetism directly spurred the Second Industrial Revolution, making him a historical figure of great influence.

Even among vampires, he held a very special status, important and respected by many.

"The Evil God may have had the intention to kill Harren, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he actually did it," Hades said slowly.

"Dear Lord Netherworld King, you are strange today," another elder remarked. "You seem to be constantly defending the Evil God. Isn’t that uncharacteristic of you?"

Seeing this person, Hades felt an even greater heaviness.

Vlad III!

Back then, Vlad III was a king of Romania, whose enemy, Turkey, ambitious and aggressive, sought to annihilate Romania.

However, when the Turkish army arrived beneath Romania’s walls, they could never forget the horror they witnessed.

Surrounding the walls was a row of wooden stakes, each one impaled with a naked body, and they were their own twenty-thousand-strong vanguard!

They had all been slain by Vlad III, in such a cruel manner, left lying outside the walls.

Blood streamed from the corpses, forming a crimson moat, with viscous waves of blood surging within.