[Quick Transmigration] Tragedy protagonist every day

Wamir licked the newly grown fangs with his tongue. He had seen mutated vampires before. There were many low-level vampires on the battlefield, and quite a few of them died under his sword.But his mutation was completely different. He could clearly feel the change in skin color, but it was not pale without blood.The blue eyes are still transparent and bright, and even the two teeth that symbolize bloodlust are as small as two perverted canine teeth.The blood hole on the neck healed overnight, leaving only two shallow marks, which will disappear completely in a few days, "The recovery speed of the vampire." The young man sighed quietly.

It was so easy and quick to accept the mutated self, even Wamir himself felt incredible.

The boy lay flat on the grass, and he found that he didn't hate the sun very much. In the silent wind, he even felt a sense of satisfaction after recovering from a serious illness.Just last night, he experienced pain that he will never forget in his life. The blood burned under the skin, but his mind was still sensitive and clear.I closed my eyes and tried to recall, but there was only an empty sound of wind.

Wamir opened his eyes and saw Martha falling from a nearby tree branch. Her long silver hair took advantage of the girl's delicate face, like an elf in a fairy tale.The boy frowned and stood up. After becoming a vampire, although the strength of his body has not recovered, his senses have been strengthened a lot, but he still has no way to detect Martha's approach. This feeling is not good.

The education he received in the Holy See made him no stranger to Lingshou—a race that entrusted the fate of its people to the powerful, a parasite-like existence!

Masha came in front of Wamir, delivering water, changing dressings, and bandaging the same as yesterday, but today she brought an extra cup, and the red liquid in it made Wamir's throat tighten, of course he knew it was What, a group of human girls will not be kept in the castle for no reason. "I don't need it." The boy refused bluntly.

That is, at the moment when Wamir lost his mind due to staring at the blood, a soft finger stretched out to the boy's mouth, gently touched the newly grown fang, and even struck it very seriously. It's Martha's finger!Wamir's head went blank, and it took him a while to react, and he waved his hand stiffly to knock off the out-of-bounds finger.

This is another aspect of Martha. No matter how much Vamir despises the race of spirit guards, Martha's insensitivity fills him with righteous indignation, and he has a feeling of punching cotton.Like a person trying desperately to explain immaturity to a kindergartener, even he himself would feel ashamed.

Facing Martha's expressionless, glamorous and exquisite face, Wamir felt powerless for a while, not to mention that he had to admit that Martha was very strong, which was different from the domineering and powerful power possessed by the prince. Sha was like a ghostly shadow, a sound of wind in the wilderness.She is a haunting dream.

Wamir looked at the finger he had just knocked off, he knew that if the girl wanted to kill him just now, he would never run away.

And Martha didn't feel offended at all. She stared at the boy's newly grown fangs and collected the blood that he didn't want. She felt that one day he would need it.Standing up and leaving without nostalgia, the silver figure disappeared into the depths of the castle.

Wamir knew who she was going to meet. Thinking of the face of the man with black hair and black eyes, the teenager suddenly felt wronged. He stared at the flickering clouds in the sky with those vampire eyes.

In a sense, Mo Yu's goal has been achieved, and there is indeed a strange feeling between Wamir and Martha.

It's just that one has lingering fears, and the other is in the fog.

The desire to become stronger, like a seed, settled in Wamir's silent chest, but the established facts made him confused for a while.At this time, the young vampire did not expect what kind of glorious path he would embark on in the not-too-distant future.As if he didn't know that someone would forge a sharp sword in the dark and lay a solemn foundation for his future palace.

Wamir curled up, still thinking about the sweetness of blood, and was ashamed of the thought.Like everyone, he reluctantly admitted until the very end that those days that were once defined as the most powerless and disappointing were worthy of the loneliness of life itself and leaving without saying goodbye. —that was the silent hour of his life.