BLOODY LOVE'S
Episode 161

"We found the sign of the Little Lord!" hans in the distance. The other workers led by Harold and Finnian immediately ran up to him, as did Rolan.

Marco had just stepped foot when the pain pierced his waist, making him frown in pain.

Lady Chantall pretended to be observing the contents of her bag, stifling the urge to get close. He actually wanted to get to Marco, fill him up, or rebuke him to sit down again, but he knew it was stupid. The man's self-esteem was too high that the little sympathy given to him would definitely be considered an insult.

But when stubbornly Marco still tried to step, Lady Chantall rushed over. "Argent," he whispered politely as he pulled the wooden chair beside him. "I think you'd better sit down before you fall and embarrass yourself."

Marco only glanced at him a glance, then leisurely walked across the hall as if he were in his most excellent condition.

Lady Chantall patted her own forehead softly and made a silent swearing. Inevitably he became sorry for just expressing his feelings. He should be able to choose the right time and place, not in a horrible place full of blood and corpses like this. What if it keeps Marco away from him? He was afraid to think about that possibility.

"Argent!" Lady Chantall chasing. His bare feet tracked the pool of blood and he slipped down towards the pile of corpses.

Marco turned his head, watching how the woman immediately got up quietly, tidied up the woolly robe that had once blazed over, then continued walking like nothing had happened.

"Where are your shoes?"

"Lost. Left in the cursed room earlier," muttered Lady Chantall, unwilling to recall the room where her expensive papal bone corset was damaged. "Do you want Scholomance published in the papers when we get back? Reveal that they're responsible for the disappearance of the people at Bjork?"

"Could only. Close the mystical section, stressing that this heretical sect uses humans as sacrifices in their practice. There's no need to say about their success in making golems."

Lady Chantall nodded her head, pleased that it meant the two of them would still continue to work together in the future. They had reached the court of the hall, looking at the flashpoint of the torches of the workers who were moving in search of the mark of Jose. "Why did Robert betray?" he murmured, more to himself.

"She did not directly betray him" Marco felt it necessary to make clear that Lady Chantall was not making any unnecessary moves forward. "He wants to conduct an intrusion and investigation in private. There may be personal motives here. Maybe Scholomance did something to him or his family."

"Tumben you're being soft on him."

"To be honest I almost broke his head." Marco shrugged and gave an excuse, "he's still useful. He was very influential in Bjork. We can still use it."

We're. The choice of words made a big smile on Lady Chantall's lips. "Then what about me?" suddenly he felt bolder. She tucked her hair behind her ears, making sure that her appearance still looked pleasing to the eye. "What do you think of me?"

"I thought I heard you say you didn't demand an answer?" reply Marco indifferently.

Thas right. Lady Chantall bit her lower lip. He didn't want an answer. He just wanted to get his heart out and answer why he could not betray Marco. But the longer he felt the feeling in his chest instead of receding or becoming calm, but instead, it increased and rose. He wants answers. He wants them to discuss his feelings. He wants certainty. If they are rejected, they will return as usual. If Marco had not thought anything of them, he would have used every gap and opportunity to get closer. "I don't demand answers" he said slowly, turning his brain. "But that doesn't mean I won't ask."

"What is the purpose of asking what else but demanding an answer?"

Marco frowned. He crossed his arms in a close pose, but one of his hands went down to his waist, clutching the still-painful wound there. His feet are also broken.

"No," he answered, concentrating on breathing in order to control the pain. "There's no time for that one-minute thing."

Lady Chantall nodded softly, inwardly humming happily. Of course there is no time, he thought, since long ago he was always busy with problems for the sake of problems every day.

"I thought you were dating Stuart" said Marco, only to recall that the two had always been seen together on several occasions.

"Neighbor! Where's there!" Lady Chantall said quickly and upset. His cheeks are red. "I like the guy who—“

The shrieks and screams of the guests in the hall drowned out Lady Chantall's sentence. The flames on the indoor torch moved wildly, then shrank to almost fainter. Room temperature drops below zero degrees.

The workers who were still within the hall immediately retreated, forming a living gate around Marco. Gerald stood guard at the front with two axes in hand, his eyes staring around cautiously.

Then the figure appeared from the direction of the hall opening that was heading towards the long corridor towards the castle, a figure that moved in wild twitches and crawled on the floor. Golems. The creature sniffed for a while in the air, then crawled straight past the corpses piled up to the side of the room.

Gerald exclaimed as loud as a thunderclap, awakening his workers frozen in fear, then he himself ran forward while swinging his axe. But the golem leapt into the wall of the hall and ran with all four human hands, charging towards Marco.

Lady Chantall swiftly pulled out her holy water from the bag and splashed it towards the golem—which then roared with a strangulation like an injured animal.

"Vade retro satana—" Lady Chantall did not have time to finish the prayer, the golem was already creaking furiously and lunging towards him.

Everything is like walking slowly. The golem's face was peyot and strange, with something resembling white powder flying from all over its body while jumping. The foul aroma strikes strongly, stabbing the nose until it hurts, just like the smell of chili. Lady Chantall was still clutching her empty glass bottle, stunned. He tightened his jaw and prepared for the oncoming attack.

Then the face turned even more and fell to the floor in front of him with the sound of wet meat slamming. Marco stood slightly in front of him, already grasping an axe.

"This creature," said Marco, swinging his weapon again, crashing the head of the creature on the floor into two pieces, "can't die! So burn him and smash him into a little poop!" He lifted his face up, staring at his workers who were fixated in horror. "Why silence? This beast scares you?"

After hearing the ridicule, some people slowly recovered. Gerald moved forward first, dragged the creature into the courtyard, and chopped it with an axe. The creature squealed in many voices: women, children, babies, men, sometimes whimpering like puppies. But Gerald kept swinging his axe with the face of the plate, unaffected. Following his example, the workers gathered while dragging their weapons.

"The golem is after you" said Lady Chantall stiffly, still struggling to shake off her hunger. If he were alone with the creature, he would have fainted. The white-white that he thought was foreign powder turned out to be maggots. The decomposing beast splattered on the floor, at the spot where Marco dropped his host. "I swear, he lunged here when he saw you! If you recall, the golem also came to you when we first met here. What are you really doing?"

"Come," said Marco in an apathetic tone. "Maybe the golem is also in love with me." He threw his axe on the floor. He snatched the object from one of the workers who were staring beside him earlier, but now it was only a burden. His waist is getting sick. Blurred vision.

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