BOOM!
As the team forcefully pushed open a heavy wooden door and stepped into the pitch-black church, its floors soaked with blood, Byron had already drunk all 108 varieties of Blood Brew made from Fourth Order Blood of Metamorphosis.
DRIP. DROP. DRIP. DROP...
He didn't know how many beast-transformed individuals he had slain along the way. The blood dripped from his sword tip too quickly, forming small streams on the church floor.
The special transcendent abilities of the 108 Blood Brews began to spread throughout his body as he continued his relentless slaughter.
His heartbeat sounded like a war drum. THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! His heartbeat echoed through the cavernous interior of the dark church, forcefully suppressing the sounds of gunfire and battle cries.
Each breath carried the scent of blood-tinted alcohol. His skin was flushed red, emitting a rich aroma of wine, mingled with a faint yet distinct, sweet, and cloying smell of blood.
