Chapter 95: My Prestige Has Dropped! [Follow the story!! Votes!!]

"Roar~!!"

In the distance, along with the Forest Giant Atess came a furious roar.

A pair of thick, muscular arms spasmed and trembled, and ignoring the Two-Headed Giant Follen's pleas for mercy, forcibly tore one of his heads away, flesh and all, ripping it clean off.

Bright red blood gushed forth instantly.

Like a rain of crimson blood, watering every inch of earth beneath his feet.

Such a brutal and visceral scene—no wonder Isabelle was so terrified.

But was it truly so?

Looking at Isabelle, who still had not emerged from his embrace, how could Fulade not see through her little scheme at this moment?

Without hesitation, since the overall situation was settled, Fulade paid it no further attention.

He merely sent a sound transmission to Atess to spare the Giant general's life, then bowed and gathered Isabelle in his arms, walking toward the bedroom on one side of the corridor.

"Uh-hmm~"

"I can't take it anymore, Fulade, let me go."

A voice as faint as a trailing thread came from beneath a swaying platinum-white curtain.

Beads of blissful sweat kept dripping from her cheeks.

Along with the crisp smack of ppp sounds.

Time came to an abrupt halt.

Isabelle weakly released her arms, her body instantly slumping down.

Fulade looked at the fragile, utterly vulnerable Isabelle and shook his head helplessly.

"Lovely Isa, we've only just begun—you can't say you can't take it."

Lying beside Isabelle, looking at her fair, delicate little face now flushed with a hazy peach-pink hue, Fulade teased in a low voice.

"Are you a monster? It's terrifying. It's all swollen~!" Isabelle's gaze drifted, her small hands anxiously clutching the white bedsheets, she said with some shame.

"Ha, is that so? Let me have a look." As soon as Fulade said this, as if he really intended to check, it immediately frightened Isabelle into a loud cry.

Fulade and Isabelle fooled around for a while, and looking at the drowsy Isabelle, he said: "Sleep now, you don't need to worry anymore. I'll take care of everything here."

Looking at the girl who quickly fell asleep in his arms, a trace of tenderness rose on Fulade's face.

How could he not see that beneath Isabelle's strong exterior lay a fragile heart.

At this moment, she was likely treating him as her last lifeline, wanting desperately to hold on tight.

Looking at her small hands that even in sleep still clung tightly to his arm, one could see her inner turmoil.

"Ah, Fulade, why didn't you wake me? This is bad, this is bad, there are still so many things waiting for me to handle."

A startled cry suddenly rang out from the dimness.

Looking at the trembling, swaying fair skin, and that touch of crimson.

Fulade could not help but say: "Alright, stop swaying—ah, I mean stop panicking."

Holding Isabelle who was trying to sit up, Fulade reassured her: "Don't worry, I've already made arrangements. Your Uncle Aymont is keeping an eye on things."

Hearing Fulade's words, Isabelle finally felt at ease.

The obedient Isabelle lay back down on the bed, looking at the tall, slender, and deeply charming Fulade beside her.

She couldn't help feeling like she was starting to drool. Who said only men could be lecherous—pure nonsense.

Looking at Isabelle, whose eyes grew misty and quickly welled up with a layer of moisture in the dim surroundings.

Fulade lifted the corner of the blanket and started a second battle.

The battle continued all the way until evening.

Looking at Isabelle, whose eyes were hollow, like a fish out of water.

He did not torment her further.

Fulade rose, dressed himself, and said softly to Isabelle: "Rest well. When I'm done with my work, I'll come keep you company again."

After speaking, he gave Isabelle a gentle kiss, then turned and headed toward the prisoners' camp.

Tonight the moon was bright and stars sparse, a gentle breeze blowing, but it could not conceal the blood and gloom spreading through the air.

By now, Klovit City had already restored order.

Though the city was still licking its wounds, the atmosphere of panic had been well contained.

He arrived at the camp tents outside the city.

Led by Famic and Weiluona, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, Fulade walked toward the center of the camp, where the Two-Headed Giant general Follen was being held.

Oh, he probably shouldn't be called a Two-Headed Giant anymore, since his other, smaller head had already been ripped right off by Atess.

Looking at the Giant general Follen, tightly bound by layer upon layer of demon-binding chains.

"Submit to me, and your life will be spared."

Facing the dying General Follen, Fulade wasted no words.

A powerful pressure instantly enveloped the dying Giant general Follen.

Cold sweat slid down the Giant Follen's forehead. Under the horrified gazes of Giant general Follen and everyone behind him, a massive, terrifying crimson shadow suddenly materialized in the night.

As everyone's pupils contracted in extreme shock, Fulade's clothes burst apart, his figure swelling and distorting dramatically.

Savage, curving Demon horns pierced through from the top of his skull, and Demon bat wings covered in scales and sharp bone spurs extended inch by inch.

When his figure stopped swelling and growing, he stood nearly thirty meters tall, clad in crimson bone armor, wisps of blood-flame slowly burning from the crevices and grooves of the armor, radiating boundless might.

Not only were Fulade's direct subordinates behind him shaken beyond measure.

Even General Follen before him flashed with a deep despair.

The stronger one's power, the more one could appreciate the terrifying gap between them.

Giant general Follen, who had originally dismissed Fulade with contempt, saw the last shred of hope and resolve in his heart instantly shattered after witnessing Fulade's full-power Demon transformation.

"Level Three—Level Three! It's actually a Level Three creature!" A profound shock filled the pale face of Giant General Follen at this moment.

Level Three creatures were not so easy to break through—let alone Level Three, even for Level Two, Follen had spent nearly three hundred years before barely breaking through.

Not to mention the legendary Level Three Life Tier—that was something he would not dare to dream of even in his wildest dreams.

Fulade naturally had not reached the legendary Level Three.

But the feeling he gave Giant General Follen at this moment was already no different from Level Three.

Fulade certainly did not care what was going through Follen's head at this moment, and instead extended his hand straight out.

Oh, to be precise, it could no longer be called a hand—"Demon's Claw" would be more fitting.

The Demon's Claw, sharp and brimming with power and wicked beauty, clamped fiercely onto Follen's enormous skull and lifted it up with ease.

Looking at the "little bean sprout" before him, whose face was filled with terror and who kept trying to struggle.

Fulade gave a disdainful cold laugh.

Yet faced with this scene, Follen, taking it all in, interpreted it as an entirely different meaning.

The Demon gave a wicked smile, its sharp teeth like swords radiating gleams of cold light, threads of saliva continuously stretching and dripping between its teeth.

Its bright red long tongue, covered in dense barbs, seemed to be anticipating today's delicious dessert.

In an instant, Giant General Follen—whose fighting spirit had already crumbled and whose state of mind had developed a crack—was immediately seized by the fear of being eaten alive and flayed.

Although they Gantuva Giants also liked eating humans raw, that did not mean they could accept being eaten alive themselves.

Naturally, Fulade had no idea about everything Giant General Follen was thinking.

Otherwise he would absolutely have given it a big slap, letting it know the importance of civilized dining.

At the very least, you'd have to wash it first, roast it over a fire, then sprinkle on some cumin!

I can't be as disgusting as you people—who do you have to learn from but the little Japanese, with no regard for hygiene!? The exceptionally sharp fingertips pierced Follen's skin, and threads of crimson blood slowly flowed out, blurring its vision.

Fulade looked at the Giant General's about-to-piss-himself expression of terror after seeing his Demon form revealed, and could not help but laugh with even greater disdain (wickedly).

However, Follen's near-collapsing mental state at this moment actually made what Fulade was about to do next more convenient—that is, imprinting a slave brand.

This was also Fulade's way of facilitating future control over the Giant race; moreover, Giant General Follen was also a considerable fighting force.

As the incantation was chanted, powerful spiritual power, accompanied by a wave of blood-colored magic, surged into Giant Follen's mind.

Upon Giant General Follen's forehead, a complex magical rune was rapidly taking shape.

Giant General Follen seemed to realize what was about to happen, and could not help but struggle even more violently.

Sensing Giant General Follen's mental will beginning to show fierce resistance, thereby affecting the nearly complete slave brand, Fulade gave a cold snort.

Powerful spiritual power instantly slammed into Giant Follen's sea of consciousness.

"Boom—!!" As an invisible airflow dispersed between the two of them, the Giant General spat blood and instantly fell into a coma.

And at this moment, the final spiritual brand was also completed.

"Bang—"

Dust billowed in all directions as Fulade casually tossed the slave-branded Giant General Follen onto the ground.

"Treat its injuries, and after he wakes, have him return to Gantuva and make the remaining Giants all surrender."

"These Giants are all my assets—if too many die, I'll be very heartbroken."

Between his words, he had already regarded those Giants who had fled back to Gantuva as his private property! Only at this moment did Famic, Weiluona, Alide'anna and the others behind him finally snap out of their shock.

As Fulade dispelled his Demon transformation, his expression calm, he drifted away unhurriedly.

Without paying the slightest attention to the shock in the eyes of his high-ranking subordinates, who wanted to speak but hesitated.

Although some of them knew that Fulade was manipulating the rise of a faith-based sect behind the scenes.

But they had never looked into it in depth, and only a glint of understanding appeared in Weiluona's eyes.

Previously, Weiluona had been wondering why Fulade wanted to develop the Blood Flame Church, worshipping a deity she had never heard of.

Although she had vaguely guessed before, it was not until this moment, seeing Fulade's transformed form, that she completely understood.

Only, as Fulade departed, when he passed by Amelia, a trace of puzzlement flickered through his eyes.

Huh, who is this woman, why is she looking at him drooling—that's way too out of line!

Until a gentle breeze blew past, a thread of coolness brushed across the skin—damn, I let my guard down! (End of this chapter)