Don't confiscate my identity as a human race-Chapter 1134 - 785: A Blessed Moment with the Black Sun Tyrant_6

```

[The Blood Clan has become aware of your presence and has also discovered your weakness.]

[You will now choose:]

[A. Engage in wanton destruction]

[B. Launch a surprise attack on the Blood Realm]

[C. Flee with all your might]

[D. Intervene personally]

[You are very weak.]

```

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

Without a moment’s hesitation.

Lanci chose to head to the Blood Clan’s lair for a direct confrontation.

Before even taking a step toward the South Bank,

the surrounding scenery abruptly changed.

As the world spun, he and Talia both felt weightless, realizing they had been dragged into a barrier.

Buildings and trees around them plummeted upward, the howling wind whistling by their ears.

He was falling rapidly, with the upside-down view of the cityscape before his eyes.

Countless buildings embedded in the darkness, some upside-down, some tilted, defying the laws of gravity, with ornate wooden structures intermingling with castle-like stone walls, flickering with the mingled brilliance of dazzling and crimson light.

Lanci’s eyes were wide open, certain that he was plummeting fast.

"Is this... Blood Moon City?"

Talia’s heart raced, realizing that their journey to Tiberius was nearing its final scene.

But she had not anticipated that the legendary Blood Moon City would now appear before her eyes.

In an endless descent, a vast but deserted city gradually came into sight.

Layer upon layer of houses arranged tightly, creating intricate geometric patterns of concave and convex angles.

The entire city seemed to stretch hopelessly toward the sky while helplessly plummeting toward the core of the earth.

"..."

Lanci continued to fall; although he could have escaped upward, he resolutely chose to plunge downward, piercing through the layered buildings as if accepting the Blood Clan’s invitation for battle.

He grasped the silver-white mask and placed it over his face.

The Pope had shed his disguise and was ready for battle.

After what seemed like an eternity of floating, he was enveloped by an immense palace.

He saw vast corridors vanish unexpectedly, reappearing elsewhere, doors shifting positions to lead to entirely different spaces, and staircases winding endlessly without a terminus.

Here was a slender corridor, with doors on either side opening and closing, revealing chilling scenes—some rooms holding surging Blood Seas, others pitch black, capable of devouring everything.

The air was laden with an almost imperceptible scent of blood, making Lanci’s nose wrinkle slightly.

He knew it was the aura of the Blood Clan.

Suddenly, an ornate sliding door opened before him.

Stepping through, his fall began to slow.

Lanci surveyed his surroundings, finding himself gently landing in the center of a circular square in the royal palace.

It resembled an altar.

Or a tombstone prepared for someone.

Around the square stood thirteen massive stone pillars, each inscribed with a gemstone totem corresponding to an Ancestor.

When his feet finally touched the ground, he took a deep breath, feeling the myriad Magic Powers of the Ancestors of the Blood Clan.

"Welcome to Blood Moon City, Saint Polante Pope."

A mocking voice echoed around, like the declaration of a deity.

The owner of the voice emerged gradually from the fog at the edge of the Blood King Palace Square, seemingly bottomless.

He looked no different from a human boy of about twelve or thirteen, dressed in a pure black velvet suit, the lapel embroidered with the golden crest of the Honing nobility.

His features were delicate, his skin porcelain white, his soft brown hair falling to his shoulders.

At first glance, he appeared to be nothing more than a wealthy youth from Saint Trier, but upon looking directly into his eyes, one would find bottomless red orbs that concealed an age far beyond his appearance.

"I really didn’t expect you’d come here. I’ve been so well-behaved in the Huo Ning Empire for all these years."

Duke Rashar, the Third Ancestor, spoke with a faint smile on his lips, as if mocking the foolishness of the world.

The Pope in the silver-white mask did not exchange another word with the Third Ancestor.

He released a blazing orb of light into the sky from his palm, illuminating the entire Blood Moon City as bright as day, countless glistening points of light converging rapidly above, forming into an enormous curtain of light stretching over the city.

Find more chapters on novelbuddy

"Don’t get violent right off the bat, Your Holiness."

A purple-red magic barrier swiftly formed around the Third Ancestor, blocking the light net.

The two forces of Magic Power collided violently in mid-air, erupting into deafening roars.

Saint Polante Pope’s veins throbbed on the back of his hand, struggling to maintain the Light Magic.

Gradually, the clash ended without effect.

"So much for the invincible Saint Polante Pope."

Duke Rashar, the Third Ancestor, muttered quietly.

A magic array formed beneath his feet over several kilometers, its released Magic Power surpassing the outburst of Magic Power from the Pope a moment ago.

A sky filled with purple-red light swirled crazily above the Blood King Palace, turning into a series of crimson serpent chains that flew towards the Pope’s shield of light, causing the air itself to become stagnant.

The Pope accelerated his Spell, forming a rock Seal Shield before him.

In the confrontation with the Third Ancestor Duke Rashar, the stone shield began to show fine cracks, teetering on the edge of collapse.

Dazzling light burst forth from the Pope, weaving together into thousands of light rings in the air, carrying an immense force that swept straight towards the Third Ancestor Duke Rashar.

The two destructive forces clashed fiercely in the void, the whole Blood King Palace resonating with a thunderous rumble.

The Spell of both sides disintegrated in an instant, causing the greatest scale of nullification.

Blood trickled from beneath the Pope’s mask as he gasped for breath.

```