Six-Armed Serpent Demon

Page 45

"... "

She rolled her eyes: "Not interested."

He grinned and said, "Scared?"

Her emerald green vertical pupils narrowed dangerously, and the sudden chill made Giderol, who was closest to her, shiver: "...Then let's gamble."

A series of gasps rose and fell around the table.

Patrick glanced around nonchalantly, taking in the many lustful and greedy eyes that had gathered around him with satisfaction.

He randomly pushed all his chips onto the nearest colored block, which had a "1" on it. This meant that all six dice must show a 1 for him to win.

He gestured to her, inviting her to place a bet.

She looked at him with a half-smile, placed her hands under the gambling table, then gently twisted her waist and lifted her hips, slightly bent over, and lifted her feet off the ground.

Standing behind her, Gidelorine stared in disbelief, while a small commotion broke out among the crowd around her.

When she resumed her sitting posture, a small piece of emerald green lace-trimmed fabric appeared on her snow-white fingertips.

She wrapped it around her fingertip a few times, gently pulled it to tie it into a bow, and then slowly pulled her finger out from the middle, thus forming a lace ring with a bow.

The still-warm lace bow ring was pressed down by her in the "".

With a deafening roar, the crowd surrounding table number thirteen began placing bets frantically. The winner would reap both wealth and beauty—where else could one find such a good deal? And it wasn't just them; many gamblers had also come from other tables.

In the blink of an eye, the chips on each colored block were piled up high and low, like a colorful fence.

Even the waiter responsible for throwing the dice started breathing heavily.

Patrick smugly surveyed the faces around the gambling table and stretched comfortably.

Her emerald green vertical pupils looked at him like two green lakes, only the water was icy cold and had no warmth at all.

She felt curious.

This man named Patrick disguised himself as a daring and lecherous pervert.

But in reality, she could sense that the frenzied emotions of the gamblers, fueled by incitement and stimulation, seemed to excite him more than her physical bets and the mountain of chips piled on the table.

Just then, a huge, scaly hand slammed heavily on Patrick's shoulder.

Dragon-blooded, Gululos.

“You’ve had too much to drink,” Gurulos said.

The imposing Gurulos, nearly two meters tall, lifted Patrick from his seat like a chick and tossed him aside. Without a second thought, he plopped down in Patrick's place.

"Settle this drunkard's chips and give him double."

As the dragon-blooded monster spoke, the ferocious and greedy little yellow eyes never left her face, body, or the lace bow on the table.

He didn't want to leave the stage so early, but the atmosphere suddenly changed.

Gurulos would not stand idly by and watch his prized possession become someone else's meal.

Patrick casually stood up from the ground, even dusting himself off. Before he could do or say anything, Gurulos's second-in-command blocked his way.

"Sir, this way please."

Patrick nodded obediently, a broad smile on his face, and followed his deputy to the chip exchange counter with ease.

His voice appeared in her mind through telepathy:

You're welcome, Ivy Beatrice

She took a sip of wine without making a sound.

The bronze dragon-like head of the opposite Gurulos shook, and with a flick of its giant hand, six yellow and white bone dice appeared in its palm.

“This set of dice was made from my brother’s dragon bones. We were playing dice to see who would win, but he was cheating on me behind my back. I got angry and killed him,” Gululos said. “To commemorate this, I had it slightly modified using golem craftsmanship. Young lady, do you know what this means?”

Dragons possess extremely high magic resistance in their skin and bones, while other dragons, though not as resilient, still inherit some of this resistance. The most prominent characteristic of golems is their magic immunity. Almost all magic and spell-like abilities have no effect on golems. "Anti-magic fields" are the core technology in golem creation.

"Waiter, please use this."

Gululos ignored the ashen-faced, swaying Gidroltin behind her, and looked at her with a lustful grin. "Don't waste time, roll the dice."

When the magic-immune dragonbone dice finished spinning, the number facing up was six ones.

The people gathered around table number thirteen were wailing in despair.

Gululos laughed loudly, looking only at her, not at anyone else: "You are mine now, young lady."

She sat blankly in the distance, saying nothing and not even changing her posture.

The towering dragon-like creature leaned its upper body over the gambling table. The wall of chips on the table collapsed with a crash as soon as it touched it, scattering them all over the floor.

He reached out and grabbed the pale arm of the seemingly distraught red-haired beauty. With a gentle tug, he lifted her off the gambling table, hoisted her onto his shoulder, and swaggered toward the back door of the casino lobby.

Stunned, Gideon stood frozen for several seconds before shouting and chasing after him.

But he had only taken two steps when a figure flashed in front of him. Gurulos's second-in-command blocked his path expressionlessly, then punched him in the stomach.

Gideon's features contorted as he knelt on the ground, slowly curling into a ball.

Gurulos's second-in-command took the holy anti-magic greatsword "Mand of the Spellbreaker" from his back, and then ordered the lizardman slaves who had rushed over: "Throw him out."

Watching Gidelortin being dragged away by his legs by the lizardman slaves, who were wailing in agony, the deputy turned to all the gamblers.

“The hotel apologizes for the disturbance just now,” the deputy raised his voice slightly. “Each guest will receive ten chips and a drink, complimentary. However, if they want more chips, they will need to exchange them for real money themselves.”

The hall was immediately filled with joyful laughter and enthusiastic applause.

The free ten chips and a glass of wine were enough for everyone to forget the minor unpleasantness from earlier and the red-haired beauty being carried away by the security supervisor.

Once everything was back on track, the second-in-command looked down at the greatsword "Mand of the Spellbreaker" in his hand and gently drew the blade a short distance. Its cold light was dazzling.

"What a fine sword," the lieutenant thought with delight.

Although he was not a paladin, but merely a member of a noble family, that did not prevent him from using it.

But when the deputy turned around, he was surprised to see that Patrick, who had just been driven out of the hall by Gullus, had returned at some point.

Patrick stood with a grin next to where "Ivy Beatrice" had been sitting, and reached out to pick up the emerald green lace bow ring from the "" color block.

Facing the cold-faced second-in-command of Gurulos, he still wore that same gentle smile that never changed.

But beneath the smile, there always seemed to be an indescribable hint of mockery and ridicule.

Patrick deftly picked up the lace bow ring with two fingers and hastily gestured the insignia of a bronze dragon on his chest to his deputy. This was a common greeting among the bronze dragon paladins.

Good night, sir. May the bronze dragon protect you.

After doing this, he stuffed it into his inner shirt pocket, and before putting it in, he brought it to his nose and sniffed it.

He then curled his ring and little fingers, his extended thumb forming a right angle with his straight index and middle fingers. He raised his hand to his forehead in a gesture of greeting to his deputy, which resembled some kind of aiming and shooting motion, before turning and leaving with a fake smile.

The top floor of the hotel.

Gurulos carried his spoils to his private lounge in the hotel, rampaging through the crowd and attracting the attention of many.

"Miss Beate" had completely given up resisting, quietly resting on his broad shoulders, as docile as a big white sheep.

This further fueled his inner turmoil.

"I need to rest for two, no, three hours."

Gurulos impatiently ordered the lizardman slave who opened the door to his lounge, "No matter what noise you hear, don't disturb me."

He laughed heartily, his huge hand stroking the spoils of war carried on his shoulder.

The emerald green silk dress was so light and silky, and the two huge, fleshy breasts inside were so firm yet plump, that he couldn't help but slap them hard.

The woman's suppressed moans were filled with humiliation and forbearance.

All of this made Gurulos feel as powerful as a god.

He was extremely anxious as he carried his spoils into the lounge.

The carved door closed silently behind him. Before closing the door, the lizardman slave thoughtfully set the lock to be locked from the inside.

The giant dragon-like man hurriedly carried the woman toward the soft, large bed.

But after taking only three steps, he sensed something was wrong. His yellow eyes first showed confusion, then were filled with horror.

The woman on my shoulder suddenly feels heavier than a stone!

He tried to throw the woman off him, but it was too late.

He didn't know when, but the woman's two long, white, python-like legs, which he so desperately desired, merged before him, extending further and further, their snow-white skin covered with jet-black, shimmering scales. The serpentine body beneath her waist, supple and boneless, coiled around his waist and legs, wrapping around him tightly, layer upon layer, and tightening its grip. And it kept gaining weight!

The bones in his shoulders creaked under the pressure.

Gurulos almost cried out, but he could only manage half a shout before the immense weight pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe.

Unable to breathe, Gululos's vision blurred, and he couldn't muster any strength. He stood there for another two seconds before finally giving in and collapsing to his knees.

Blood rushed from his small head into his large head.

Gurulos let out a silent roar from his chest, took a deep breath, his eyes turned bloodshot, and activated the violent power within him.

Gurulos's adventurer class is Barbarian.

The dragon race endowed Gurulos with extraordinary physique and strength. When he enters a high berserk state, he can lift thousands of pounds as if they were nothing, making him a strongman capable of lifting heavy objects.

He once tore a person in two with his immense strength during a rage.

However, he was frustrated to find that the increased power from the higher level of berserk was completely useless.

The giant snake that was tightly wrapped around his body weighed at least four thousand pounds!

The woman's cold laugh lingered in his mind.

This show was originally intended for another person who was courting disaster.

First came the cold, clear voice from the gambling table, then gradually merged with other voices, and when he said the last word, it was as if hundreds of women's voices were whispering in his ear.

[You don't show up when it's your turn, but you bump into me before it's your turn.]

She manipulated the giant serpent's body to increase the tightening force.

—You made me waste my "mortal body" ability and I even owe that bastard a favor, you idiot!

The bronze dragon's head suddenly bulged out its eyes.

The telepathic words had barely left his lips when a sudden, excruciating pain shot through his entire body. He heard the sounds of his shoulder blades, collarbone, arm bones, left ankle bones, and his right kneecap, which had been slamming into the ground, shatter.

[Spare me, spare me!]

Bad Blood didn't have time to think about who he was communicating with telepathically; he only knew to eagerly use the communication channel to shout and wail at the evil spirit.

I submit!

Gurulos felt five or six slender, jade-like hands slowly reach out from behind him, gently stroking his dragon face, arms, and chest. If it weren't for the terrifying weight on his body that could crush him like an eggshell at any moment, he would have been completely captivated, but now, he was terrified out of his wits.

I ask, you answer.

The demonic chorus echoed in the Badblood Barbarian's mind, carrying an unquestionable firmness.

Gurulos nodded frantically.

Five minutes later, the six-armed serpent demon knew everything he wanted to know.

Chapter 54 The Battle of the "Red Forest" Temple (Part 1)

Early morning, sixth level of the lower city, the bronze dragon temple "Red Forest".

Looking out, the iron-gray, golden-roofed palace buildings are surrounded by shades of crimson, near and far. The deep red grass, the light red shrubs, and the dark red tall trees create distinct, layered reflections on the purplish-red painted surfaces of the garden corridors and floors.

After finishing his fasting prayers, the dragon priest Ocdoranto hastily changed into a wide white robe trimmed with gold flowers, revealing dragon-like claw-like feet beneath the hem. He strode through the temple's corridors. All the acolytes he encountered along the way, whether dragons or humans, bowed to him. Ocdoranto ignored them all, continuing on his way.

Octolanto passed through three arched columns and turned into the quiet depths of the temple's gardens. There stood a solitary courtyard.

The entire courtyard, formed by magic such as "turning mud into stone," is a single, square, open-air bath surrounded by a large colonnade. The bath is steaming hot, and the surrounding area is adorned with countless exquisitely carved statues of tigers, leopards, and angels. Some statues serve as outlets for the pipes supplying cold and hot water, while others are used as supports for placing plates.

Bathed in the morning light, an exceptionally large dragon sat comfortably in the hot water in a corner of the bath, its two thick arms casually resting on the edge, its eyes closed in bliss. Several scantily clad human maids surrounded him, using iron brushes to polish the bronze scales on his body and files to trim the dragon claws on his fingers.

Hearing Ocdorantho's footsteps, the dragon in the bath tilted its head slightly. The seven or eight gems embedded in its forehead and brow bone reflected the setting sun, flashing across Ocdorantho's face.

"Just say what you have to say. Anyway, for a loser like me who can only loaf around and wait to die, there's no worse news."

The dragon didn't open its eyes and said lazily.

Ocdoranto stopped at a distance, bowed to the dragon, his voice slightly trembling with excitement. "Honorable Thunderswallower, I have just received a message from the Top City. You have been pardoned and reappointed as diplomatic ambassador, responsible for facilitating the tripartite talks with the Samarachi and Enser people in five days."

The dragon species known as "Thunderswallower" opened its eyes.