Hunting College

Across the dark red high threshold, the first thing that caught Matthew Cullen's eyes was a huge French window.

The window was closed tightly, and the blood-red velvet curtains were hung on both sides by golden hooks, which looked like the long hair of a woman, gentle and moving.

Through the bright windows, there is a lush silent forest in the distance, and the bustling pedestrian street of Beta Town nearby. Between pitching, dynamic and static are fascinating.

Two huge portraits hang on the white stone walls on both sides of the French windows.

The man on the left turned to the right, sitting diagonally in a wide, high-backed square chair, as if overlooking the world.

The top of the back of the chair is a sculpture with a fuzzy shape, which looks like an eye; the man wears a dark red cylinder cap on his head, his upper body is wrapped in a crimson velvet shawl, his lower body is covered in a deep shadow; his The two arms are neatly placed on the arm of the chair, the left hand is pressing a thick hard-shell book, the right hand is naturally drooping, and the ring finger is wearing a gold ring. There is a huge gem on the ring. The gem is not clear. The color can only vaguely feel a heavy sense of vicissitudes being bound inside.

The man on the right turned to the left, looking mockingly at the sky above his left, with a cynical smile on his mouth, but his eyes were cold and cold.

He wears a golden curled wig, draped to the left and right, revealing a smooth, high forehead. His face was pale, and a section of the same pale floral wrinkled-collared shirt appeared on his chest. The collar was embroidered with golden patterns, which seemed to be an ancient spell. He is wearing bright leather shoes, stockings and tights, holding a long sword at his waist in one hand, and holding a tall wooden cup in the other, with the mouth of the cup facing down, and the bright red liquid in the cup is about to fall.

Matthew Cullen took a deep breath, did not speak, and first saluted the two portraits respectfully.

The man sitting in the chair on the left is Tony J. Black, the oldest patriarch of the Black family of the nobles under the moon; the huge book he is pressing on with his left hand is the oldest rule in the vampire world-the Code of the Moon.

The man holding the sword on the right is the patriarch who revitalized the contemporary Karen family, a legend among vampires, John Hugh Karen. The wooden cup he grabbed at will on his right hand is the holiest holy grail of the blood clan. The legend holds the ancestors. Container of original blood.

The two portraits were blind to the etiquette of this younger generation, and there was no wave in his eyes. This made Matthew even more admired-it seems that only this way can match their noble status.

He bowed, motionless, waiting for the portrait to speak.

"If you are waiting for these two old immortals to speak, you can stand up straight." A clear voice broke the tranquility of the lounge, and smiled: "This is an oil painting by mortals, not by a magic painter. , They are not the shadows of two old men, but just piles of oil paint."

Matthew Cullen stood up straight in surprise, and couldn't help but examine the two paintings carefully.

The lifelike eyes and vivid expressions are almost the same as real people.

But there is no magic wave in the portrait, it is really just two oil paintings.

"The splendor that can freeze this moment... It's... a regrettable talent." Matthew murmured, his eyes full of unbearable.

In his opinion, the person who drew this picture possessed a talent that the wizards admired, but this talent appeared in the fragile mortal again, which made people sigh.

"So, you came today to sigh about my two paintings?" The clear voice reopened, jokingly.

Matthew Cullen finally reacted.

The only person who can speak at will in this lounge is the owner of this room, his long-standing cousin, Friedman Black Cullen.

Matthew raised his head and glanced quickly.

Not far in front of him, in front of the tall French window, there was a large maroon wooden table.

The desk was filled with heavy magic books, various exquisite magic instruments, and an hourglass for timekeeping happily flipping somersaults.

There was a thick armchair beside the table, and a tall figure was lying lazily on the armchair swaying slightly. He was holding a book in his left hand, and his right hand came to grab a fruit from the fruit plate next to him from time to time.

At this moment, the owner of the house leaned forward, revealing platinum-gold hair and light blue eyes.

These eyes coincided with Matthew's line of sight.

Matthew hung his head quickly.

"It's a great honor to meet with you, Sir Friedman." Matthew put his hand on his chest, and saluted stiffly, his voice trembling from tension: "I would like to represent Count Angley Cullen and Lindsay O. Countess Brian Cullen, I greet you and wish you a good day."

Angley Cullen is Matthew's father, and Countess Lindsay O'Brien Cullen is Matthew's mother.

For these old-fashioned pure-blooded vampire nobles, you can't expect anything useful in their rigid minds besides these tedious etiquette.

Hearing the greetings from the guests, the owner of the house reluctantly put down the book in his hand, stood up, and walked to Ma Xiu.

"My father is here, I hope everything is well." The owner of the house, Sir Friedman stood up, took Matthew's hand, and gave him a firm hug.

His tall body blocked the sunlight outside the window and cast a heavy shadow in this spacious living room: "Seeing you, I can't help but think of the scene of attending a winter hunt in Badmington last year. Everything seems to have happened yesterday. ."

"Yes, Sir." Matthew didn't expect that he would get such a hug at all, and his excited face was a little flushed-this is rare for vampires: "You killed in Worcester Lodge The demon fox in the world left a deep impression on everyone."

"If you stay in the first university for a few years, I believe you can shock the eyes of more antiques in the family." Jazz said witty words that did not match his identity, and scratched his platinum hair with some annoyance, complaining. : "Ah~www.readwn.com~ these dull guys, the guests will not take the initiative to entertain them... I have to send them to the Alchemy Research Institute for refitting."

Matthew raised his head in surprise.

"Please forgive me, cousin Karen, I don't want you to feel that I was rude before talking." Sir Friedman gave his cousin apologetically: "The house is a bit small and the servants are not professional... "

"In the harsh place of the First University, it is very difficult to make up a spacious living room and a few well-educated servants...especially the living room, when you are under the strong restrictions of the First University, Few people can use superb spatial magic skills."

"Moreover, the school has too many rules that do not allow us to bring our own servants, so we had to use these dolls to get together."

Matthew showed a dazed look, and shook his head repeatedly, indicating that it didn't matter.

A servant brought a high-necked glass bottle and two Burgundy glasses, which contained a bright red viscous liquid.

Another servant brought in a high-back chair decorated with a badge, and at the same time, took the coat that Matthew had handed him, and walked out quietly.