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墨書 Inktalez
Not long after, the blood on the playground formed a massive and ominous inverted triangle ritual circle, its crimson lines extending like veins across the ground. Those cultists who had willingly offered themselves collapsed silently to the earth, their eyes vacant, their skin pale, as if their very life force had been drained away, leaving only hollow shells lying amidst the blood-soaked markings.
As the ritual circle was completed, a thick aura of malevolence began to permeate the air, shrouding the entire campus in a dark red haze, as if every inch of this land had been corrupted by evil power. The blood markings gradually emitted a strange red glow under the dim light, spreading like mist and infiltrating the surrounding buildings and corridors, even seeping into the hearts of everyone present, inducing an uncontrollable frenzy.
The students below began to emit low growls, their gazes becoming increasingly wild and hollow. Their eyes were gradually covered in bright red, their pupils disappearing, as if they were entirely dominated by some dark will. The will of the Blood Moon echoed relentlessly in their minds, oppressing their rationality and deeply embedding a singular ideology into their souls—only the strong survive, and the strong shall remain strong!
This phrase reverberated in their ears like an incantation, transforming their desires into pure predatory instincts. The students began to lock eyes with one another, filled with hostility and yearning, as if they harbored an uncontrollable hatred for everyone around them. Former comrades-in-arms now became enemies and obstacles to their "survival." As the influence of the Blood Moon deepened, their initial rationality had long since crumbled, replaced by boundless violence and rage.
Suddenly, a student let out a low roar and lunged at a nearby classmate, gripping his throat tightly with both hands, his knuckles turning white as he attempted to squeeze the life out of him. The assaulted student struggled desperately, pain etched across his face; however, he was quickly overpowered by this frenzied force and pinned to the ground. His throat emitted agonized cries but he could not escape. The surrounding students did not attempt to intervene; instead, they wore expressions of excitement, their eyes filled with mad desire as if they had spotted even more enticing "prey."
With the first wail echoing through the air, more students began to attack each other in a frenzy as if signaled to do so. Screams and roars rose in a chaotic symphony. Blood quickly stained the ground anew; the sounds of blades slicing through flesh and fists crashing against bones filled the air—cruel and unrelenting. Each person swung their weapons wildly at the nearest "opponent," plunging them into flesh as blood sprayed into the air like a gruesome feast that turned the playground into a hellish battleground.
James stood on stage, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he coldly observed this slaughtering frenzy that he had instigated. He knew well that the will of the Blood Moon had penetrated deep into these students' souls, ensnaring them in an addiction to killing and turning them into pawns under his control. And through this mad sacrifice, he would absorb even more power and become an unrivaled force.
On the playground, carnage spread like an uncontrollable tide; blood and echoes created a vivid picture of hell. James looked down at this chaotic scene with satisfaction before slowly turning around to face the terrified principal and other officials trembling in fear. A satisfied smile graced his lips while his gaze radiated cold contempt as if these paralyzed figures before him were nothing more than ants.
The principal stood rigidly, disbelief etched across his face as he stared at James. The professor who was usually humble and courteous now seemed to have transformed entirely; his eyes were icy and his face wore a smug smile that exuded an indescribable aura of evil. It felt as though all his blood had frozen at that moment; he could not believe what was unfolding before him nor comprehend how this once-revered scholar had devolved into such a monstrous figure.
"James... what on earth are you doing?" The principal's throat trembled as he spoke in a hoarse whisper filled with suppressed anger and undeniable pain. "How... how did you become like this? What is all this for? Have you gone mad?" His gaze was filled with fury mixed with an overwhelming sense of sorrow and disappointment as if he were looking at someone he once respected and trusted who had ultimately fallen into darkness.
Hearing the principal's questions only deepened James's smile; delight flickered in his eyes as if savoring the principal's current anguish and rage. He stepped closer with a coldly disdainful gaze that scrutinized like one would examine a broken toy. His tone was teasingly light: "You seem quite confused, Principal." His voice was low yet laced with mockery as if casually conversing without acknowledging the horror unfolding before them. "Do you not understand why everything has come to this?"
The principal's face grew paler still; he bit down hard on his lower lip while flames of pain and anger burned in his eyes. "James... you truly disappoint me." He murmured painfully, his gaze reflecting both disappointment and confusion as if unable to grasp why this once-gifted professor would willingly cast his soul into such dark depths. "Why are you doing this? Are you still even human?"
James let out a light laugh, his expression filled with a cold indifference. "Humans? I have long since looked down on such a lowly identity. You will never understand... Power, Principal, it is all about the pursuit of that supreme strength!" His icy gaze flickered with madness, and his tone carried an almost frenzied confidence. "Do you think morality and rules hold any significance? In the face of the strong, everything is just a joke."
Standing before the Principal, James's eyes were cold and arrogant, a hint of mocking amusement playing at the corners of his mouth as he slowly spoke, his tone condescending. "Principal, you seem noble, but hasn't human history already proven the truth?" His voice was deep and seductive, like a patient teacher explaining something, yet delivered in an utterly frigid manner. "Humans have always been selfish and self-serving. Whether in war, conquest, or so-called progress, it is fundamentally driven by endless greed."
James spread his hands slightly, his movements elegant yet detached, as if stating an undeniable fact. "No matter how fast technology develops or how dazzling civilization becomes, humanity has always pursued one word: strength." He narrowed his eyes, his tone slowing and deepening further. "Stronger, bigger, faster—this is the essence driving all human actions. People are filled with jealousy and admiration for the strong; the apparent peace is merely a means of mutual restraint. Strip away that layer of hypocrisy, and what everyone truly seeks is dominion, power, and the supreme glory of standing at the top."
The Principal's expression gradually shifted to one of shock and pain; his lips trembled slightly as if he could not believe that James could speak these words so calmly. Observing the Principal's reaction, James revealed a cold smile. "And you still fantasize about that so-called 'peace.' In reality, it is merely the strong choosing to maintain a facade of harmony for their own interests. Those useless wastes, the weak ones, even your so-called 'objects of pity'—to the strong, they are nothing more than bothersome debris on the path to ascendance." His tone dripped with disdain as if criticizing a naive error.
"Why should we protect those wastes, the weak, and the maggots?" James leaned forward slowly, his gaze piercing like a cold blade aimed at the Principal. "Under the will of the Blood Moon, only true strong ones deserve to survive. The strong survive; the strong remain strong—that is the law of this world. And I am merely its most faithful advocate."
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