Professor Vampire.

Chapter 229: Chapter 229 The Hall of the Dead connects to hell.

"But why is that?"

Dracula frowned slightly as he looked at the flow of magic in his palm that was fading into the dark gray drapery.

There were no mutes in the Hall of Death, and nothing else but such an old and tattered archway, so the only thing that held enough energy to represent death was inside the archway.

But if this was the power from death, then why was it the same as the magic power in himself that originated from darkness?

With that, Dracula suddenly laughed softly.

"Whatever it is death or darkness, wouldn't it be better to take it back and see?"

Dracula could feel that although the connection between the magic power that was fused with the drapery and him had become much tantalizing, it was still within control.

Thus, he swirled his palm slightly, and as if a black hole had appeared at the position of his palm, he drew in the crimson magic in front of him, along with the dark gray fluid on the drapery, forming a gray-red intertwined vortex.

The drapery on the archway swayed without wind, and with the pull of the black hole in Dracula's palm, a thin wisp of smoke drifted out, gradually haunting the entire hall with a misty fog.

Dark gray smoke and crimson magic power parallel, did not enter Dracula palm, and the body of magic power slowly intertwined together.

In the next moment, Dracula's child hole suddenly contracted.

He felt that the total amount of magic power that he thought had long since developed to its limit, the energy that hadn't changed in the slightest for hundreds of years, actually had a slight tendency to grow out of nowhere!

The energy representing death on the archway could actually really be absorbed by Dracula and then turned into his own!

And Dracula could sense that there was another mysterious space behind the archway, in which there was an inexhaustible source of energy.

Dracula subconsciously took two steps forward, wanting to enter that space directly through the archway.

Unlike Voldemort, he didn't really think much about getting stronger or anything like that. But he would be interested in the changes he hadn't seen in a long time, and wanted to make some changes to this unchanging body. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

So Dracula took a step forward ...

"You don't want to get in there at this time."

Just as Dracula was about to take a step into that archway, a voice suddenly sounded behind him.

With Dracula's perception ability, it was surprising that he hadn't even noticed when there was another person here before.

He stopped his steps and turned back in surprise.

Only to see a figure standing in the mist, a gorgeous red cloak, a long hood covering his face, leaving no trace of skin exposed in the air.

This disguise, it really looks extraordinarily familiar.

Dracula: "..."

"I can hardly imagine being bored to this extent." Looking at the hooded figure in front of him, he had a strange expression, "Did you have to dress like that? It's not like I don't know who you are anyway."

"... Formality always goes a long way." The Hooded Man was silent for a moment, and said in a voice of molded lakes.

"... You're happy." Dracula clasped both hands to his chest and tugged at the corner of his mouth at him, "So tell me, why do you say I wouldn't want to get in over there at this point? In fact, you should know that I'd quite like to walk inside that archway."

"Not yet." The Hood said inarticulately.

"But why can't you make that clear?" The corners of Dracula's mouth twitched a little, "Can't imagine that I could ever become a riddler like you."

"There are many more things you can't imagine!" The hooded figure suddenly laughed softly, and Dracula could even imagine the corners of his mouth hooked up under that hood.

For the first time, he realized if others were just as angry as he was right now when they saw that evil smirk tickling the corners of his mouth.

"Idle nothing to sell what the secret it ..." Dracula took out the time converter from his coat pocket that he had just shunned from the time hall, and skimmed his mouth disdainfully, "It's not just a five hour period of time, can there still be what more than a thousand years have There can't be any big change that hasn't been seen in more than a thousand years?"

"Who told you I came back from five hours later?" The hooded man said tantalizingly, "As I said, there are still many things you can't imagine."

Dracula's child hole shrunk fiercely, and he stared dead at the figure in a gorgeous red cloak.

The outfit was a temporary purchase he had made at Mrs. Moggin's Clothing Store in order to fight his past self, and had never been worn again except when traveling through time.

It was obvious that the figure was again his future Dracula self.

But he couldn't tell exactly how long ago his future self had returned to the present from.

If it wasn't five hours, was it a day? Or a month? Or even a year or even many years?

If his future self had really returned to the present from many years later, was he only here to stop his past self from walking through the archway?

What is inside this archway?

"Tell me, why won't you let me in?" Dracula asked bluntly.

"Haven't you ever thought about it? What the 'Hall of Death' really means." The Hood said softly.

"Doesn't it mean that the power of death is stored in it?" Dracula furrowed his brow, "I was wondering why it was like my magic and the power of death came from the same source."

"But why didn't you think of how, with the powers of those wizards, they would be able to store such a large amount of the energies of time, the universe, love and even death?" The Hooded Man asked rhetorically, "With their level of research that isn't even trivial?"

Dracula fell silent.

"Think about it, the Department of Mysteries has been around since long before the Ministry of Magic was founded." The Hood said, "Or rather, the reason why the Ministry of Magic was established here was for this Division of Mysterious Affairs."

"So ... what exactly is in here?" Dracula asked softly after a moment of silence.

"The drapery keeps fluttering without the wind, and that's because life is dying in the world every moment of every day." The Hooded Man said, "And the gradually descending stone steps that surround the perimeter of this space signify the gradual aging of life ..."

"Haven't you figured it out yet? What kind of place is the world behind the archway?"

Dracula looked back at the old and dilapidated archway, and a trace of dawning realization gradually flashed in his eyes.

"I didn't realize that this archway was so important that it was worth trying to find a way to travel back across time to prevent myself from entering." He suddenly laughed, "But have you ever thought that the more people discourage me, I am inclined to want to go in and take a look even more!"

Before the words were finished, without waiting for the Hooded Man to react, Dracula suddenly turned around and incomparably and decisively took a step into the dark gray curtains inside the archway.

A single step changed the sky and the earth!

The first thing that caught his eyes was a large sea of umbrella-shaped, curled petals and leafless flowers.

An endless number of manzanitas.

Dracula had a few planted by Dobby in his office, and Andros had dozens of them in his secret realm at the top of Mount Olympus, but it had never been as shocking as this kind of red petals that spread over the earth.

The sky had also turned completely dark gray, in stark contrast to the brightly colored flowers on the ground.

There was no sun in the sky, and a gloomy world floated in front of the eyes with a muffled, shallow light shining from nowhere.

At the end of the sea of flowers, a tall mountain peak abruptly lifted up abruptly from the crimson ground, all of which looked like they were stained with scarlet blood and water, and stretched out in sheets.

In the eerie purgatory, endless skeleton silhouettes floated in midair, struggling to move their mangled bodies from time to time.

Seven or eight huge mountains of withered bones stood tall, and endless rivers of blood-colored water rolled between the corpses and bones ...

In the center of this space, there was a figure sitting on a throne of corpses and bones, behind him there was a pitch-black cloak hanging down, countless skeleton skull-like shadows piled up on the hem of the cloak, constantly struggling, wailing, all the time wanting to drag the owner of the cloak into the surrounding rivers of blood, but it was just like an ant shaking a tree, it was difficult to move the slightest bit.

Even with Dracula's experience of more than a thousand years, he never thought that he would see such a scene one day.

His eyes can not help but haunt some inclination, slowly raised his feet, in a sea of flowers that can not be seen at a glance strolling towards the distant throne of bones.

Dracula wondered what kind of person would live in such a hell.

Could it be that there was really a Grim Reaper in this world, just like the legend of "The Collected Tales of Shion Pidou"?

This kind of feeling that disturbed the inherent cognition constantly stimulated Dracula's nerves, making his eyes only have an ounce of interest in the new environment, without the slightest bit of awe and fear of the unknown.

As Dracula continued to go deeper and deeper, the cloak on that throne of bones slowly swung up.

The figure on the throne raised his head, revealing a pair of dark gray, unfocused eyes.

There was barely a bit of flesh and blood on his face, only a face made up of dried skin and bones, practically indistinguishable from a normal skeleton, only much more ghastly and imposing.

"What a dense darkness." The skeleton didn't open its mouth, but an obscure and terrifying voice came out from amongst its body, "It's really rare that such a dense darkness didn't even seek my help in the current world, but instead came directly here."

"Oh?" Dracula raised his eyebrows, "So ... many people with darkness can still seek your help?"

"That's for sure, without my help, how would they have gotten that kind of power that is so strong that it shouldn't belong to the world." The skeleton stood up proudly, raising his arm in a wave, his cloak flung far behind him.

Surprisingly, instead of being as withered and bony as his face, his figure was extraordinarily robust, and coupled with his tall height, he was able to simply give people a sense of oppression that came right up to their faces.

"You mean, your power does not belong to the world?" Dracula asked with interest.

"I was never meant to belong to what you call the world." The skeleton said, "Since you have come to this heaven and earth, don't you still understand what I am?"

"Is that so." Dracula shrugged, "So there really is such a thing as a Shinigami, I always thought that Pidou guy made it up."

"Since you know that I'm the God of Death, it's just as well that you don't submit to me, but you still don't know how to respect me?" Dracula's indifferent attitude made the God of Death a little angry, "Aren't you afraid of death, mortal?"

"Afraid of death?" Dracula snorted, "I'm rather tired of living a long time ago, if you can help me to die, that counts for you."

Death: "..."

He scrutinized Dracula with dark grey eyes, his expression growing somber.

"So it's the damned race of Blood, you have the purest Blood blood flowing in you ..." Death's voice was icy cold, "It's really disgusting."

"What's wrong with the Bloods?" Dracula frowned, "Isn't the Blood race one of the ordinary races in the magic world?"

"A commonplace race?" Death sneered, "It would be fine if that were true, but unfortunately ..."

Before the words were finished, he suddenly skipped over the previous topic, "Blood race brat, it's true that I don't have the means to kill you. But I can completely imprison you here for eternity, so that you will never be able to escape this place!"

The God of Death probed his hand forward. As he moved, it was as if the entire space rotated with him, and an incomparably strong pressure acted on Dracula's body.

It was rare for Dracula to feel such a strong pressure, and the corner of his mouth hooked up a smile instead.

"Truly worthy of being a Shinigami, it's really different from those earthlings in the present world." He laughed recklessly, "Hahahahaha ... is exciting enough!"

The blood-red light in Dracula's eyes flowed rapidly, and countless dark energies erupted from his body, and even the power of death that permeated this space merged with Dracula's own magical power, blowing the cloak behind him to a hunting sound.

His wings suddenly stretched out, Dracula dashed into the air, driving a blood-colored river around his body constantly swirling, surprisingly short period of time to call on the surrounding power and the entire space of the oppression of the stalemate.

"It's useless, Blood, this is my home ground!" The God of Death hissed in a cold voice.

In the next moment, an even more violent aura suppressed.

Dracula frowned and turned his head to look at the direction he came from. There should have been an outdated archway hanging with dark gray drapery standing in the middle of a sea of flowers, but it was empty at this moment.

"Heh, I'm not interested in staying here with you for the rest of the day." Dracula's form drifted back quickly through the air, avoiding the area where the power was at its peak, before summoning a ghostly dark moon behind himself.

"It's no use, this isn't the world you're in, your space magic won't work." Death laughed maniacally, rolling up an even more manic storm.

However, right at this moment, a strand of magic power intertwined with gray and red suddenly surged out from the shadow of the dark moon. It was as if the Dark Moon, which had never been able to contact the outside world, had a coordinate in the endless mist, and instantly made an orientation!

When this wisp of red and gray intertwined magical power appeared, the Death God's skull-like face changed drastically.

"This is ... this is ... this kind of ability is in no way something you can possess! This can't be ..." he muttered, "Why ... the Blood ... "

Without hearing exactly what Death was saying, Dracula disappeared into the sea of bright red flowers along with the ghostly moonlight.