"Coal Ball!" Norton looked up and called softly.
The vampire bat that had followed him for over eight years had indeed developed a certain tacit understanding with him.
Hearing Norton’s call, Coal Ball released its hanging claws, fluttered its wings, and flew onto Norton’s hand.
The vampire bats in this world didn’t look very different from Earth’s vampire bats; at most they were slightly larger, able to fit in a human palm.
But the size difference wasn’t much—only a few centimeters at most.
The energy content in blood was extremely low, so they couldn’t grow very large. Otherwise, even if they fed all day they still couldn’t meet their energy needs.
Besides, it was precisely because these bats were so small that they weren’t suitable as God’s size; otherwise Norton felt the “vampire” name would probably refer to a completely different species.
Norton stroked the little bat perched in his palm, tapping its skull with his finger.
Then he extended his finger, ripped a piece of flesh off his leg with his nails, and placed it in front of the bat.
No choice—no blood is just that troublesome. Luckily the procedure didn’t hurt, and the torn flesh quickly healed the next moment, or Norton wouldn’t have dared try this."Try your best, Coal Ball. If you really die, I’ll take good care of your wife and kids!" Norton said, reluctant, as he patted the bat’s head in his palm.
He didn’t really want to experiment on Coal Ball, but Coal Ball had been alive the longest among his bats—no one expected it to live many more years. It was better for the old bat to die than for its newborn grandson to perish.
If it didn’t die, though, it would probably have an excellent growth effect.
Norton didn’t know whether his flesh had any use, but he suspected it likely did. Even if it didn’t, it shouldn’t be too harmful—otherwise the Wolf King would have died when he bit Norton’s flesh, and those werewolves and monsters wouldn’t have gone crazy trying to hunt him Norton.
That was the main reason he was willing to try this on Coal Ball.
"Eeek?" As if it understood Norton, the black bat even raised its head to look at him.
"Eat up—this is the flesh of Norton the Grand Duke!" Norton pushed the meat toward the bat, watching it eagerly until Coal Ball looked slightly nervous.
Maybe Norton’s flesh actually had some attraction, or maybe Norton’s intense stare made it anxious.
The little black bat finally hesitated, lifted a paw, pawed at the meat in Norton’s hand, and then extended its tiny tongue used for licking blood to taste a bite.
Norton’s eyes were full of expectation.
It seemed Norton’s flesh indeed had a strong effect; or perhaps Coal Ball simply couldn’t handle the intense potency.
After that lick, the bat’s body suddenly began to stretch in a bizarre way. Its legs, covered in skin membrane, kicked out with difficulty, and the body that had lain on Norton’s palm began to arch upward...
"It works!" Norton’s eyes gleamed, fixed on the bat undergoing the transformation in his palm.
"Thud!" A small black scat dropped onto Norton’s hand, and the bat’s arched body folded back down.
"Damn it!"
Norton exploded in anger!
He snapped his finger and flicked the bat’s skull hard.
He didn’t use much force, but Norton’s strength was considerable now; the flick still made Coal Ball squeak twice, rubbing its head like a human.
Watching the bat flutter back up and hang from the rooftop, Norton inhaled deeply, flicked the bat droppings off his hand, and shoved the piece of flesh he had torn into his mouth.
This was meat that even the werewolves coveted—he couldn’t just throw it away and accidentally nurture some terrifying thing.
After all, that’s how novels and movies do it; Norton would be cautious.
This attempt had failed, which made Norton suspicious.
He had initially thought his flesh attracted werewolves, but now he wasn’t sure. Could it be that because he’d fed on the Holy Knights’ blood, he was attracting these monsters?
Too bad there were no Holy Knights around to bleed for testing.
But he could be certain of one thing: his flesh had no attraction for bats.
Then this vampire truly was garbage—how did it have no miraculous abilities at all?
Not to mention, the ability to gain memories by drinking blood was common among vampires; he didn’t even have that?
Norton was bitter about this because that was the ability he wanted most!
If he had it, he would have sucked Bishop Doxia dry to acquire all his secrets through memory.
After all, the Church building had all sorts of God portraits—he still didn’t dare to enter.
...
The sun sank gradually.
The corpse lying in the clock tower showed no unusual changes.
Maybe because Norton had already drained all the blood, there was no sign of the legendary corpse twitching—what a pity.
Two streaks of crimson dimly flickered in the dark loft, bringing a hint of horror.
Norton remembered his own resurrection had only been separated from death by a few hours.
This corpse still showed no abnormal signs; clearly it was irretrievably dead.
So he still didn’t have infection ability.
What about the bat that had licked his flesh?
Norton lifted his crimson eyes and looked up at the loft ceiling.
Coal Ball still hung quietly from the ceiling, just as lazy as ever. Even though night had fallen, it didn’t move a bit.
No movement...
Norton fixed his gaze on the bat hanging from the ceiling.
Coal Ball was completely motionless, not moving at all—not even the usual licking motions. Norton couldn’t even hear its frantic heartbeat anymore!
Damn it—the bat was legendary for a thousand heartbeats per minute!
"Did I poison it with that piece of flesh?"
Norton hurriedly stood up, walked swiftly to where Coal Ball hung, and reached out to check.
He touched it gently.
A hard feeling came through; with a crisp crack, Coal Ball fell from the ceiling into Norton’s hand.
Norton focused his eyes and looked.
"It’s all dried up!"