Wow! The item-dropping rate is really high!-Chapter 992 - 689: The Out-of-Control Elf
In the cold cosmic void far from the main battlefield, several alien ships are silently drifting.
Their designs are completely different from human vessels, with slender, twisted, and elegant lines, like black branches frozen by the stars, or like some enormous and intricate keys.
There is no obvious glow from thrusters or portholes on the surface of the hull, only some obscure purple runes flickering like breaths, flowing gently.
Inside one of the largest ships, resembling intertwined thorns, the scene is starkly different from that of human ships.
There are no neat instrument panels or bustling officers, replaced by a grand, empty, circular hall that resembles both a temple and an arena.
The floor of the hall is semi-transparent, revealing the dim universe below and the distant explosions from the Mine Star battlefield.
The air is filled with a subtle blend of metallic fragrance, incense, and the faint hint of blood.
The grand war happening in the cosmic space seems irrelevant to them, as an unusual performance unfolds in the center of this hall.
Several tall, pale or deep-purple-skinned Dark Elves, dressed in extravagant and revealing battle armor with elongated ears, surround a bound and struggling giant star beast with Spiritual Chains.
They are not simply slaughtering; it is as if they are crafting some cruel form of art.
With gleaming spears, whip blades, or bare hands, they precisely cut and pierce through the beast's body, avoiding vital spots to prolong its agony.
The beast's wails, splattering blood, and the expression of lazy, delightfully intense concentration on the faces of its assailants create a bloody and eerie scene.
The other Dark Elf spectators, whether sitting or standing around, express low, satisfied admiration or picky commentary, as if enjoying a theatrical performance.
"The angle of the seventh vertebra was slightly less aesthetic than last time, Alice."
The male Dark Elf reclining on a throne decorated with bones and gems, swirling a crystal goblet filled with dark red liquid, commented casually.
"Hmph, it's the uneven flesh of this 'Starry Sky Worm' affecting my performance."
Alice, the female Dark Elf warrior, flicked the blood droplets off her whip blade, pouting in dissatisfaction.
Even though they were invited there, they showed no concern for the brutal war on the nearby Mine Star, involving the survival of millions.
The Peak Alliance's requests from those ants?
Merely invitations to a new "production" that might bring them some amusement.
They came not to "help" humans,
but to observe whether this "drama of destruction" starring the Bug Race is exciting enough to provide some fresh thrill to their long, mundane eternal lives.
Human betrayal, the evolution of the Bug Race, the struggle and collapse of a new force…these are quite good seasonings.
"What about that cornered little thing, the so-called 'King of Purple Orchid'?"
The male elf on the throne, known as "Prince Shadow Blade," slightly raised his eyelid.
With a slightly mocking tone, he seemed to peer through the ship towards the distant battlefield, "I heard he made quite a show on another planet last time?"
"A mere dying struggle." Alice sneered, "No matter how strong an individual is, in the war of races it is just a bigger ant. Watching him slowly ground to death by those ugly bugs might have a unique charm?"
A glint of cruel anticipation flashed in her eyes.
"Those bugs' methods of playing with prey are too crude." Another Dark Elf noble commented lazily, "There's no artistry... pure devouring, how tasteless. If it weren't for that one's interest in these bugs, I wouldn't bother coming to such a place."
As they talked, their eyes discreetly glanced towards a dark corner.
There, a high throne stood.
A slender figure was concealed within.
No one knows where that terrifying elf came from; they only know that around half a year ago, this figure, along with her so-called sister, suddenly appeared on their Dark Elf ship…
Their interests seemed detached from everything the elves were obsessed with, such as sex, art, skills?
She only wanted to fight…
Using it to suppress the increasingly uncontrollable urge within her.
No one knows what she desires, she never cares to communicate her thoughts with anyone.
She simply beat everyone into submission.…
…
"You can barely suppress it anymore…" The pale-skinned elf gently grasped her sister's palm.
Those hands wielding war swords, surprisingly smooth like her own.
An elf's body, impacted by pleasure, becomes increasingly alluring, as the replenished genetic information, once had but suddenly lost, makes this world's most beautiful treasure increasingly yearn for indulgence.
To repress these growing desires, she could only choose to numb herself with battle.
Yet suppressing it without relief will only intensify this forcibly repressed emotion… she can barely control it anymore.
Curled on the throne, the elf gently caressed her smooth thighs, even such minimal skin stimulation made her body tremble softly.
"I want…" The elf's eyes were blurred, murmuring indistinctly from her throat.
Even the mere overflow of desire made the elf standing nearby also feel a strange impact… a subtle blush surged to her cheeks.
