The God Of Cells In League Of Legends - Chapter 26 IXTAL 13 WITH FLOWERS

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Tomorrow I don’t know if I’ll make another chapter!

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The dampness of Tonnika’s market and the heavy odor of the crowd often drove shoppers to make hasty decisions, but Hatilly was mesmerized. She had spotted a strange matted bud surrounded by wilted red leaves, a specimen she had never seen before.

“You won’t want this one,” said the old florist. “It’s a very rare midnight zoquid. It was brought from the southern jungles where sunlight never touches the forest floor. It’s more for alchemists and potion specialists…”

The merchant then tried to draw his attention to a bouquet of sapphire roses. “These are from Ionia. I prepared them myself to grow on Kumangra’s rugged soil … Or maybe you like some moon pearls?”

Hatilly didn’t listen. Anyone could see the beauty of the sapphire roses and the pearls of the moon. But this zoquidea had an exotic beauty, similar to that of the craked native lilies of the Serpentine Delta or the cadaverous tulips. She and Cazworth were great lovers of rare flowers.

“I’ll take the zoccid.”

With a confused expression, the florist received the gold placed in the palm of his hand. Then she wrapped the button in a damp silk nest and placed the package in Hatilly’s hands. She saw that the air roots clung to something hard and white like chalk.

“What is it?”

“The zoquids are rooted in foreign objects,” said the merchant. “This is a piece of bone.”

By candlelight, leaning over his antique desk, Cazworth made notes in the margins of his book. He only raised his head when Hatilly placed the ceramic pot on the table. The strange zochoid, half buried in a mound of wet earth, already seemed happier, with its livelier green and red tones.

“A seedling for the blossoming of a businessman.” Proud of herself, she kissed his cheek. He smiled and turned to examine the specimen.

“When you said you needed flowers to brighten up the place, I thought they would be colorful.” Cazworth jabbed the plant with the feather. “What curious thing is that?”

“An exotic gift to celebrate the opening of Kumangra’s newest commercial establishment … Cazworth Exotic Items.”

Cazworth pulled his wife into his lap.

“Well, if you’re saying this is a rarity, then it deserves a reward.”

He kissed her tenderly. A single petal opened, revealing itself in the dark room.

“It’s starting,” said Hatilly. “Will you stay up all night?”

“Probably. I still need to stamp several invoices; the other partners are still worried about shipping routes…”

Hatilly yawned.

“You don’t have to keep me company, my dear wife. Go to bed. I’ll wake you up when your flower begins to open.”

“Thank you, dear husband.”

Hatilly woke up with an itch on his heel.

Here so close to the jungle, there was always a lot of ant. She kicked off the nuisance and, still half asleep, turned to the empty pillow beside her. Cazworth had not come to bed.

The insect was insistent and was now climbing up his ankle. She took off the sheets and saw that it was not an insect but a vine that snaked through her fingers, tangling at her ankle and up her leg.

The fright and panic roused her completely.

She started to kick, but couldn’t make the rods loosen her leg. They tightened even more, biting at his flesh. She plucked them with her nails and the thorns made her hands bleed.

The snaking stems formed a trail beneath the bedroom door, from which sprouted aerial roots that climbed the bed frame. She immediately remembered Cazworth.

Armed with her lamp and sewing scissors, Hatilly followed the vines down the hallway of the mansion. Their thickness increased as she walked toward her fountain from Cazworth’s office.

She had to force the door several times to open it. Hatilly didn’t know what to expect, but he certainly didn’t imagine that.

The room was completely covered with flowers from floor to ceiling. An exaggerated profusion of color danced in the flickering lamplight. Exotic seedlings ran down the walls and their finger-shaped leaves heaved as if they were breathing. The flowers seemed to mock her in the darkness, displaying their colorful petals as signs of fire. They had all sprung from a single dark core: a huge closed flower bud, dropped near the hearth, where Hatilly herself used to read while Cazworth worked. There were scattered pieces of pottery and earth. The zoccid had grown too large.

From its pulsing petals emerged all kinds of bulges. Hatilly just thought of running to set the house on fire and burn that terrible bouquet. But not without Cazworth. The vines had curled around the chair legs, the table legs, the legs of the…

Your husband.

Still sitting in his chair, Cazworth was completely covered with a twisted mass of leaves. Barefoot and slipping in the foliage, Hatilly made it to him. She began to frantically cut the strangling vines, but each cut only made them squeeze even harder and produced little thorns that pierced her and her husband. The blood began to drain. As soon as the drops fell, the flowers of the zoccidea rushed to the blood to feed.

Hatilly managed to release a pale, icy hand from Cazworth.

A smell of decaying corpse flooded the room. With tears in her eyes, she stared at what was left of the couch where the bud of the zoccidea was blooming.

The odor got stronger. Hatilly had noises. Giant petals dripped in colorful layers, with striking red and green elongated petals adorned with black tips, revealing a woman in place of the stem. Her hair was blood red. His flesh looked like leaf. Vines and petals enveloped her in deadly beauty. She opened her eyes. They looked like panther eyes, squinted to see their prey better.

The woman who had bloomed from the flower stood up.

Hatilly then held the scissors like a dagger.

“Do you want to prune me yet?” Said the thing, in a deep voice that seemed to swallow Hatilly.

“Who are you?”

“The flower you so wanted to see bloom.”

Suddenly the odor disappeared. There was no smell of death anymore.

Hatilly inhaled sweet fragrances; orange blossoms, the scent of sapphire roses, the fruity aroma of the cráquem lily, the musk of the moon pearls, the delicate wisteria notes. There were many secret flowers; Somehow she knew their names and they smelled of colors her eyes had never seen before. A name came to Hatilly’s head…

Zyra

“Thank you for the beautiful garden,” Zyra said, nodding at what was left of Cazworth. “You took good care of me, but we need more nutrients. To make the soil more… fertile.”

Hatilly saw images of a world covered by a colorful and deadly bouquet. It was a beautiful swirl of soft, agitated tones that choked cities. There were no graves, no war, no money… Hatilly was breathless. She didn’t even feel it when the vines pulled her down, nor when the thorns buried themselves in her flesh, tearing at her skin, shedding her blood.

“Enter the ever-blooming garden …” Zyra whispered through the stems and petals. “This is where death blooms, you don’t want to miss this beautiful color show, do you?”

Hatilly didn’t answer, because he already had the flowers.

Zyra was basking in the blood of her victims.

when suddenly a big explosion!

BOOM!

a great wave of energy begins to mirror across the continent

Zyra feels a horrible shiver down her spine as if death are ready to take her soul to hell!

“Zyra” what is this?

What overwhelming power is that?

……………………………………

leave a comment please!

send stones of power !!!!!

send presents too!

If you don’t give it a grade, it discourages me a lot.

rate the work to keep me motivated!

…………………………………………..

ATTENTION!

If you are paying to read this NOVEL!

YOU’RE BEING STOLEN!

you’re dumb?

…………………………………………….

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did you like the soap opera ???

Here I drop more chapters than on another site!

…………………………………………….

https://www.webnovel.com/book/15691739605652205

…………………………………………..