Chapter 1818: Summer in Fools' Village (Part 30)_3

This time, it wasn't for cutting up food, but rather, for slicing up their own kind.

With the first scream, Azazel drew in a deep breath. With a light spread of his left wing, he brushed aside a Grand Mage who was fighting for possession. His victim slammed into the wall behind him, transforming into a mass of pulp.

Still, nobody stopped.

Forks plunged into eye sockets and dinner knives slashed across throats. The bloody rampage had truly begun. Everyone clambered onto the table, beginning to rip through their kin flesh with the most primal of weapons - fingernails and teeth.

"Zwrrrp!"

Blood splattered onto Azazel's face, painting from his cheek to his eye crimson. He closed his eyes, with droplets of blood sliding down from his eyelashes.

"How does it taste?" Shiller stood at the opposite end of the long table. His dark green suit almost merged with the surrounding foliage in the setting sun. He raised his glass towards Azazel and asked.

Azazel flicked out his tongue to catch the blood droplet slipping down. His sharp, devilish teeth became visible as he opened his eyes to look at Shiller with his goat-like pupils saying, "A sin so spicy, it would make even a demon cringe. Thanks for the hospitality."

Shiller leisurely stepped up to Azazel, setting his now-empty wine glass in front of Azazel's neck.

Azazel's eyes suddenly widened, he looked at Shiller in disbelief and said, "You knew that devils cannot refuse sin, so you lured my subordinates in this way!"

Shiller did not answer, his sharp poisonous fangs flashed and he rolled his glass towards Azazel a bit closer.

His words became darker, "Azazel, the scapegoat of the Lord, the first animal sacrifice, leave your blood and you can leave."

"Shiller, you are mad!"

"I told you, he's not Shiller anymore," Constantine's voice came from the door.

Azazel turned his head sharply, and Constantine was leaning against the door frame, casually stating. "I killed your followers. I told them I want to make a new pact, and none could resist the temptation of flaunting my soul in Hell. The beasts of Hell have a poor memory."

His gaze fell on the wreckage and bodies strewn across the table, speaking calmly, "I manipulated the lambs in Heaven and Hell."

"Now their hungry cries have become annoying. I think their master should start the slaughter."

"I've chosen a strong lamb from my flock to sacrifice, to make their master place them on the dining table. It's fair, isn't it?"

Constantine walked up to Azazel and said with a smile, "Since you've absorbed all of the top-grade sins here, you must pay up. Otherwise, let the devils kill me, then go to Heaven and spread the ugly truth about you reneging on your debts."

Azazel looked at Constantine in shock, then at Shiller, then back at Constantine.

Ten minutes later, Constantine lifted a cup filled with deep red wine.

He gently pressed the rim of his glass against Shillers, all the while savoring the blood-soaked scent as it slid down his throat. In his eyes, shaded beneath his hair, lay a madness that hadn't changed, and an unaltered indulgence.

With an unprecedented deep gaze, Shiller watched Constantine and said.

"Through you, I enter the City of Pain; through you, I enter into the everlasting pit of sorrow, Constantine."

"Through you, they enter into an irreversible crowd, Shiller."

"To Dante."

"To Dante."