Chapter 1569 - 90: Butcher’s Pit

The fear of the believers towards the Blood Tax officers was almost ingrained in their instincts. Normally, just one or two Blood Tax officers were enough to make them take a detour, and today, so many Blood Tax officers descended, instantly throwing the scene into chaos.

"Do not let anyone escape, and try not to let anyone bleed."

The Night Race coldly issued orders, his gaze toward the believers filled with disgust, yet he couldn’t do without this group of believers, not even a drop of blood could be wasted.

The Blood Tax officers exchanged glances. They might have once had a conscience, but in this desperate Land of Eternal Night, those with a conscience usually did not survive long.

The team pushed forward, compressing the believers’ space, forcing them to retreat again and again, the dark crowd squeezing together.

Some Blood Believers let out terrified screams, unclear of why the Blood Tax officers had come, but they saw the Night Race in the crowd, those scarlet pupils were so striking, easily distinguishable.

Other believers noticed this as well. Before this, they suspected the Blood Tax officers had come to arrest some tax evader. The Night Race’s presence made them realize the situation was far beyond their imagination.

Melissa, perched on a pillar, naturally noticed this too. A cold sense of despair permeated her heart.

Melissa knew that even with timely Blood Tax payments, the Blood Citizens’ safety was still not guaranteed. In the old city, Melissa often saw large-scale arrests of Blood Citizens by Blood Tax officers. A few times, she used her frail body to hide in the ruins and escaped them, but once she was unfortunately caught.

Luckily, the Blood Tax officer, Devon, let Melissa go, even telling her the reason for their actions during a subsequent chat.

"The Blood Tax officers regularly conduct cleansing operations, targeting elderly, sickly, and those unable to continue effectively producing Blood Tax."

Devon did not tell the fate of those Blood Citizens, but Melissa could guess. The outcome of such events was only twofold: either mercilessly squeezed into blood and flesh, or massively converted into Bloodthirsty.

To ensure the population of Blood Citizens in the old city, after each cleansing operation, a large number of new populations were migrated in. Some, like Devon, were The Imperfect, from the so-called Land of Secrets, while others were ordinary people from various unheard-of places.

A painful wail interrupted Melissa’s thoughts. At the front of the team, a believer was struck down by a Blood Tax officer’s baton, falling heavily to the ground, sobbing endlessly.

The crowd’s commotion paused for a moment, then erupted with greater intensity, scattering, fleeing, wailing nonstop, yet no one dared to confront the Blood Tax officers. Fear, like blood, had deeply rooted in their bones and flesh.

Melissa saw someone break the windows on both sides, trying to escape through them. But as soon as they leapt out, they were beaten down by waiting Blood Tax officers outside and dragged away one by one.

"For... the sun!"

Suddenly, the Priest on the high platform roared, raising the bloodstained, tattered Scripture, pointing at the Night Race and shouting.

"The Angel of the blazing sun will punish all of this!"

The believers stared blankly at the Priest, his words seemingly possessed with Magic Power, penetrating the depths of the believers’ souls, awakening the last of their humanity and dignity.

First, a believer rushed at a Blood Tax officer, his movements clumsy, yet he managed to knock down the officer. Then, a second believer inexplicably took down a torch from a pillar, hysterically screaming as he smashed the burning flame onto the Blood Tax officer’s face.

The flames ignited on the Blood Tax officer’s face, burning the skin, metal cutting through fragile flesh. The first drop of blood fell onto the ground, emitting a pungent, nose-wrinkling smell.

The Priest’s eyes were bloodshot, he excitedly shouted, "Sacrifice! For His coming!"

In an instant, his words ignited the church, some fervent believers rushed at the Blood Tax officers, wildly wrestling with them. Others, despite not mustering such courage, banded together, climbing out through the windows, attempting to confront the Blood Tax officers outside and escape.

Melissa was not swayed by the frenzy. After all, she was not a believer, just unlucky enough to have stumbled into this place. She hid behind a pillar, warily observing the scene, seeking a chance to escape.

"Sacrifice!"

The Priest cheered, reaching into the vat of fresh blood before him, vigorously scooping it up and splashing wave after wave of blood onto the believers.

The precious blood soaked the believers, its sticky stench evoking their primal battle intent, driving them further into madness. Yet to the Night Race, such acts were meaningless, only intensifying his anger.

"What a waste..."

The Night Race wiped his cheek with his fingertips, seeing a smear of blood on his fingertip.

His previously calm expression suddenly turned furious. The Night Race stopped wasting time, his red pupils becoming increasingly dazzling. Simultaneously, the Ether’s glow reflected on his body.

Instantly, silent shrieks swept through the church, expanding in a cone shape, hitting all the believers before him. It seemed countless phantoms rampaged through their minds, tearing their spirits and blood vessels.