[Quick Transmigration] Tragedy protagonist every day

"pain."

It was Wamir's whisper,

The body that had just recovered couldn't bear such an impact, but in fact, it wasn't just the pain of tearing, there was also a sense of desperate suffocation that was even more unbearable.

Verita was taken aback by this, but immediately reacted and looked at Martha who had broken hair.

Moyu's other hand rested on Wamir's back, making the gesture look more like an intimate hug.Only Wamir knew that this was pure torture, to prevent him from moving around recklessly.

There was no struggle, no words, Mo Yu knew how to control his strength, his hand stopped an inch in front of Wamir's heart, it was painful, but it would not cause death.

In this extreme pain, Wamir couldn't help trembling all over his body, his mouth was opened wide, but he couldn't make a sound.

Then he heard the prince's calm voice,

"I've taken a lot of people."

The boy's eyes moved slightly.

"Most of them are very good and talented...Of course, luck is also very good." As if in a sad mood, his tone paused, but he continued, "But at the beginning, it wasn't like that... "

The hand on his chest moved slightly, and Wamir gasped in pain. He felt that he could speak, but he didn't ask for mercy. He understood the reproach in the prince's words, but he still wanted to hear him continue—that was The past of the person he loved!

"Some people were seriously injured, and some were ruined." The devil's whisper was extremely calm, even revealing regret, "...they have experienced pain," a simple and peaceful statement, "forced...to be different from you."

The cold hand withdrew from Wamir's chest, neatly and without any muddle.Wamir only felt a moment of inertia, as if his soul was also taken away.

The body landed on Mo Yu's left arm, this was the first time he felt such obvious emotional fluctuations from the prince.

"I adopted them and taught them. And they didn't escape..."

But you escaped!

The boy's lips moved, but he didn't speak.

In that newborn body, he felt his love was so close to his heart, but it hurt him so much that he couldn't cry at all.

----------Three years later------

Willita was lying in the attic of the old castle, looking at the dawn with a pair of green eyes, silently lamenting the passage of time, then got up and went back to her room, and picked up the potion that had just been boiled on the stove.

For the vampire, these three years were a real black and white reversal. Even he never thought that he would really adapt to this kind of daytime work life.

Turning around, I saw Martha standing at the door.

With short hair in full ears and soft facial features, she is no longer as delicate and cold as when I first saw her. She looked like an ordinary and beautiful girl next door when she stood still. Verita grinned, "Go to the conservatory."

Martha nodded in agreement.

All I saw along the way were plump and beautiful blood maids. Three years ago, after Martha lost her hair, she couldn't cope with the complicated daily affairs in the castle, so she bought a group of slaves of inferior blood, and carefully trained them to replace them. She took over Martha's previous job as the castle's maid and blood slave, and Verita has long since stopped working as a hemostatic agent.

The flower house is built in the courtyard of the ancient castle, a corner where few people disturb.Back then when he was preparing potions in the old castle, he planted some flowers and plants casually, but he never thought that they would bloom so well, so he took care of them carefully and even built a greenhouse.

What is rare is that Martha likes it here, spending three years among medicinal herbs and flowers.Thinking of this, Willita smiled slightly.

What happened back then was related to him, so his behavior could be regarded as compensation.

Martha sat down on the wicker chair in the greenhouse, and Verita came up behind her, took out the potion prepared in advance, and wiped it along the ends of her hair little by little. "It will be fine, at least it will grow faster."

Martha nodded slightly.

Verita paused for a while, after three years, he even learned words to comfort others.

Three years is not a long time for a vampire, but the changes are real. The castle is changing, he is changing, and Martha is changing.

But the one that has changed the most... is Vamir.

The heart-wrenching calamity back then angered the high-ranking prince, and the momentum of killing and sweeping spread throughout the major families, so much so that he is now glad that he chose the right side back then. Now the war is at a stalemate, and there is a faint truce between humans and blood races It's a good time.

The green eyes stared at the young man walking outside the aisle in the distance. It was a young, excellent vampire. The firmness in the blue eyes was like the frozen lake in the late autumn night, and the dazzling golden hair, In the slight wind, there is also a sense of neat and stern beauty. It is the sword forged by the blood prince with three years of time.

Zidian Qingshuang can change the color of Fengyue.

However, the flaw of the famous sword is even more tragic.

Under the sunlight, white light was faintly reflected on Wamir's neck. It was the collar that the prince personally put on for him three years ago. It was made of silver with French engraved inside. It was extremely exquisite, but it still could not change the role it represented And humiliation, if you leave the castle without permission, you will suffer from burning until you decapitate and die.

Velita had thought that a dispute would be inevitable, but she never thought that Wamir would accept it frankly.With a dedication-like sacrifice, docile, obedient, hardworking, and desperate, he completed the training assigned to him by the prince on time, and even exceeded the limit. He had already read more than half of the books in the secret room, and his eyes, like lakes, began to freeze , he is more and more like a sword.

But if that kind of ice melts, what kind of feelings will it reveal?Verita didn't want to guess that indifference was more kind and more conducive to life than caring more often.

Wamir signaled a blood maid to go with him, and the girl bowed and left with him.Velita had been told not to use hemostats, and what Vamir was doing was the most normal thing for a vampire.

Watching the disappearing figures of the young vampire and maid, Verita wondered, "What the hell is Vamir now?"

But he didn't want to ask absent-mindedly.

Then he heard Martha's cool, sugary voice answer him.

"Blood slave."