Chapter 72: Blood Hook (4)
“Whatever… don’t think anyone’s getting out of here alive.”
As the scroll unfolded, a mana barrier shot up, sealing off the entrance to the banquet hall. Ronan gripped his sword and charged towards the vampires.
The distance closed in an instant. A vampire acting as the vice-captain shouted in a bewildered voice.
“Jegiral, kill him!”
Some vampires, regaining their senses, raised their arms, targeting Ronan. It was an attempt to use magic to restrain him. Just then, a vampire attempting to cast a spell vomited blood and collapsed.
“Blood Erosion… Urgh!”
One by one, other vampires also convulsed and spasmed, failing in their spellcasting. The vice-captain shook the fallen vampire’s shoulders and asked in frustration.
“What’s happening, everyone?!”
“Our… our mana isn’t gathering…”
The vice-captain’s eyes widened. Indeed, the mana in the banquet hall was dispersing or flowing backward before taking concrete magical form. He belatedly realized the existence of devices that disrupted mana, which had been prepared to confront Jhordin. The vice-captain cursed under his breath.
“Damn it, someone go and get rid of those damn things!”
It was a complete reversal of roles, as he fell into his own trap. Several vampires who were positioned at the rear rushed into the banquet hall. The moment he turned his head again, with a swoosh! Ronan, who had approached unnoticed, thrust his rapier into the vice-captain’s mouth.
“Aaargh!”
The vice-captain screamed, but instead of retreating, he lunged at Ronan, chewing on the rapier as if it were a mere toothpick. At the tip of the sword that pierced through the back of his head, blood and brain matter splattered. Ronan furrowed his brow.
“You sure do fight like a bastard.”
“Human!!”
The vampire vice-captain swung his arm. His claw-like fingernails were deadly weapons on their own. Ronan dodged by lowering his head and lifted his sword diagonally. The rapier sliced through the vice-captain’s cheekbone and skull, exiting outside. The vice-captain let out a scream.
“With wounds like these, I won’t die!”
“Oh, really?”
Ronan spun the rapier once, readjusting his grip. He inserted the rapier fifteen times into various parts of the vice-captain’s face, each strike in a different direction. The mangled face was now covered in red lines. With one swift kick, Ronan knocked the vice-captain’s body, which had collapsed like a deflated balloon, away.
“Guah…!”
The convulsing body slumped.
Crack!
Ronan stomped on a bone fragment of unknown origin with his heel and commented.
“Looks like he’s dead.”
The six parts that made up the head continued to twitch but showed no signs of regenerating. It was one of the techniques he had learned from a past life. If regeneration was troublesome, simply slice them up beyond recovery.
“Commander!”
After the leader, now the vice-captain had fallen as well. The eyes of the vampires around widened. Without delay, Ronan rushed at a female vampire who happened to be nearby. In times of chaos and fear, he needed to minimize the number of enemies.
Swoosh!
In an instant, Ronan’s strike sent the woman’s arms flying into the air.
“Kyaaaah!”
Blood splattered, and her once beautiful face contorted like a demon. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to make her convulse like the vice-captain, but unfortunately, that was too troublesome.
Ronan reached for a stake at his waist. Just as he was about to thrust it into the woman’s chest, two handsome vampires blocked his path.
“Attacking a lady, are you ignorant of chivalry, sir knight?”
“Then why don’t you step aside?”
Ronan twisted his body. With his left hand, he pushed the stake he was holding into the vampire’s chest.
Thud!
The stake pierced the vampire’s heart, and his white eyes turned pitch black.
“How dare you—!”
“Why is a filthy monster’s offspring talking about chivalry…”
The impaled vampire on the wooden stake contorted in agony. It was an instant death sentence. Suddenly, a chilling breeze rustled through, echoing in Ronan’s ears. Ronan twisted his head, and
Swish!
An ominous strike narrowly grazed his cheek.
“Did you just dodge that?”
The expression on the other vampires’ faces turned to bewilderment. In his hand was a sharp saber. It was unnecessarily ornate, but it looked like a good sword.
It made Ronan wonder, did mosquitoes use any form of swordplay? Out of curiosity, Ronan decided to employ the Imperial Swordsmanship’s first form.
Swish!
A vertical slash intersected with the vampire’s saber.
“Ugh!”
The vampire’s stance instantly faltered. It was evident that, despite their superior physical abilities, they had never wielded a blade before. Grinning with disdain, Ronan swiftly severed the vampire’s neck and impaled the crumbling body on a stake.
“Ah, what a waste of a good blade.”
“Who… who are you…?”
A female vampire quivered in fear as she muttered. She was still regenerating below her elbow. Instead of responding, Ronan swung his arm, and
Thud!
A silver streak pierced through the air, penetrating her heart. The approaching vampires froze in their tracks.
“Drina!”
“Those aren’t the moves of a mage…!”
“Damn it, is it still far from complete?”
In less than five minutes, over half of them were incapacitated. It was the first time such a thing had happened since the foundation of the Blood Hook. Ronan corrected his stance and aimed his blade at them.
“Don’t think you’ll leave here alive.”
As Ronan was about to charge once more, jubilant shouts came from behind.
“We did it! It’s been lifted!”
“Finally!”
Suddenly, the vampires’ faces lit up. Ronan raised an eyebrow.
“Lifted? What did they lift?”
“Hahaha! You’re finished now!”
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A scarred-faced vampire shouted with glee. Suddenly, Ronan noticed that the chaotic mana, which had been scattered all around, was beginning to flow normally again. He pursed his lips.
“Ah, I see.”
“Blood Spear.”
A spear made of blood flew towards Ronan. He rolled to the side just in time to dodge the attack. Before he could even get back on his feet, a barrage of blood arrows shot past him, narrowly missing his throat.
“Ugh!”
It seemed like they had deactivated some sort of mana-disrupting device. The tide had turned. The vampires swung, threw, and detonated weapons made of blood at Ronan.
The terrifying aspect of blood magic was that it could spawn consecutive attacks from the spots where blood had landed. In a way, it resembled Shullifen’s Stormblade.
Missed blood formed puddles on the ground, and from there, thorns and arrows sprouted to continue the assault. The frenzied vampires were wreaking havoc.
“Hahaha! Look at him running like a scared mouse!”
“You think you’re winning?”
However, having access to magic wasn’t always a boon. Ronan chuckled softly. All the projectiles from the blood magic abruptly halted in mid-air. It was as if time had frozen. The vampires’ faces froze in confusion.
“Wh-what’s happening?”
“What’s going on?”
Whoosh!
Suddenly, the projectiles transformed into droplets, coalescing into a sphere and began sucking towards one corner of the banquet hall.
The vampires simultaneously turned their heads. A bizarre creature, unlike anything they had ever seen, was hanging from a torch sconce, its four wings folded.
“Wha…?”
Blood was being absorbed into the body of the hunched creature, and the vampires were trying to shout something.
Thud-thud-thud!
The creature’s wings unfurled, and hundreds of blood orbs were shot towards the vampires.
“Ahhhhgghhh!”
The swiftly approaching orbs pierced through their bodies, sending bones and flesh soaring through the air. While not fatal, they were immobilized. The blood orbs, fueled by the blood they drew, transformed into bullets and shot back towards the creature.
“Guess it’s proving its worth.”
“Beah!”
It seemed like Ophelia had taught Cita well. Ronan, with a smug grin, charged once more towards the vampires. He knew that Cita’s bullets were striking their vampire targets with pinpoint accuracy.
-Thud!
“Ugh!”
-Thud!
“Kiaaaargh!”
Ronan scoured the banquet hall, driving stakes into the chests of vampires who were turning into beehives. Occasionally, some overly persistent ones received precise, relentless slashes from his saber, reaching the limit of Lamancha’s sharpness. Vampires who realized that the tide had completely turned started fleeing, their backs turned.
“R-Run!”
“The entrance is blocked!”
The barrier sealing the entrance remained intact, impervious to blood magic or any attempts to break it. It was only natural, given that it was an advanced spell prepared to restrain Jhordin.
As the vampires desperately attempted to escape, they found themselves trapped in a nightmarish banquet hall, their fate sealed by an unlikely alliance between a skilled swordsman and a mysterious creature hanging from the torch sconce.
“Ugh!”
With An echoing thud! Silver stakes, flying from behind, pierced through the backs of the vampires, precisely piercing their hearts. Vampires who suffered this fate were silenced before they could even let out a final scream.
“…Is it pretty much over?”
Ronan stretched and yawned. There were no more vampires in sight who were still moving. The two that had just died seemed to be the last.
“This asshole is still alive…”
Zwei lay unconscious, with his arms and legs severed during the battle. Regeneration was proceeding slowly due to the torch burns Ronan had inflicted.
Thud!
Ronan kicked his side, and Zwei’s body flew towards the wall, colliding with it.
“Kuh, ugh…! Wha-what happened…”
“Are you coming back to your senses?”
Ronan chuckled. Zwei’s face turned thoughtful as he looked around. Silver stakes were deeply embedded in the corpses scattered all around. Zwei, belatedly regaining his senses, screamed.
“Ah… Aaargh!”
There was no one left alive except for the two of them. Ronan, crouched down, pointed his stake at Zwei’s throat, and spoke.
“Extract the Essence of Pure blood.”
His voice was emotionless, devoid of any feeling. Zwei, spitting out saliva that had landed on his face, uttered a curse.
“You cursed bastard! I’ll tear you apart and kill you for sure! In the deepest pits of hell…”
Ronan wiped the saliva from his face and thrust the stake into Zwei’s thigh.
Thud!
A chilling scream filled the banquet hall as the stake pierced deeply into the vampire’s flesh.
“Kuuaaargh!”
“Extract the Essence of Pure blood.”
The wounds darkened as they healed. Zwei didn’t respond. Ronan sighed and drove the stake into Zwei’s left eye. Zwei’s limbless body writhed like a fish out of water.
“Ugh… Ah… Aaargh!”
“Extract the Essence of Pure blood.”
The pain was excruciating, and Zwei’s screams echoed through the hall as his essence was slowly drained.
“Aaaargh! Kriiieeek!”
“Extract the Essence of Pure blood.”
“What…What have you done until it’s come to this point?!”
“What?”
“Dammit! You clearly said you’d help capture Jhordin Stonesong! But why… why…”
Out of nowhere, Zwei began babbling incomprehensible words. Ronan raised an eyebrow. Had the stake pierced his brain or something? It was the moment Ronan pulled out the stake that had been impaled in his eye.
“Damn it.”
An overwhelming surge of energy, unlike anything before, washed over Ronan. He noticed that Zwei’s gaze was directed not at him but behind him.
Ronan slowly turned his head. Except for the scattered blood, organs, and the corpses of mosquito bastards, there was nothing else to be seen. The only people left lying on the table, who had been the vampires’ meal, were three individuals, groaning in agony. Suddenly, Cita’s feathers fluttered with agitation.
“Wh-what…?”
The blood spread across the banquet hall was being absorbed into Cita’s body. Its four wings vibrated rapidly, as if preparing for something. Ronan’s eyes widened.
“Cita?”
“Aaaargh!”
A magical circle appeared in front of Cita. Without any warning, a projectile shot out towards the stone table.
Kwaang!
The compressed blood exploded, creating a crimson cloud.
“What the hell are you doing all of a sudden…”
Ronan was about to say something when the thick blood cloud cleared, revealing a human figure within. A man, wearing a flipped hood, was sitting on the stone table. His ominous voice echoed through the banquet hall.
“Disappointing.”
Unconsciously, Ronan clenched the stake. He immediately realized that the one emitting that ominous presence was this man. Ronan steadied his breath and spoke.
“Who are you?”
“Who… am I?”
He was clearly one of the people brought here as prey. The man slowly turned towards Ronan. Behind his thin hood, crimson eyes glowed ominously. His voice resonated once more.
“That’s the question I’d like to ask you, Impostor. Where is Jhordin?”
Ronan remained silent. The man stood up, and the restraints that had bound his hands and feet had somehow come undone. Zwei, in a bewildered voice, stammered.
“I-Is he… an impostor?”
“I expected more from you. I was curious, so I followed when you said you’d make Jhordin one of your own…”
“Damn it, answer me! Is that creature an impostor?!”
Ignoring Zwei, the man took a step forward. Ronan gripped the hilt of his blade. It felt like facing a force of nature rather than a living being.
“Guess I’ve got no luck…”
Ronan gritted his teeth. It was a sensation similar to when he faced Brighia. At that moment, a familiar voice whispered in his ear.
“Step back. He’s not an opponent we can handle.”
“What?”
Shaaak!
In an instant, a bluish hemisphere engulfed the approaching man. Blood and shadows from all directions turned into blades and pinned the man inside the hemisphere. Finally, a massive maw made of shadows swallowed the hemisphere whole.
“…Ophelia?”
All of this had happened in less than two seconds. Ronan turned his head. Ophelia, whom he had clearly said couldn’t come, was standing beside him. She had her eyes narrowed, and there was no trace of her usual gentleness. She stared down at the spot where the man had been.
“Yep.”
“Why are you here? When did you start following us?”
“I was worried, so I’ve been following you from the beginning. But more importantly, hurry and get the Essence of Pure blood and let’s get out of here.”
Her tone was completely different from usual. There was no trace of the usual softness in Ophelia’s face. She chewed her lip and muttered.
“Why is that man here…”
“Who is he?”
“He is Varsaac von varshava, The younger brother of the Shadow duke.”
“Shadow Duke?”
He had heard that name before, probably when Cita was being trained. Ophelia compared Cita’s talents to the Shadow Duke’s childhood.
“Yes. He’s the one who rules the world of the night…”
Ophelia was about to continue speaking when,
Kwaang!
Suddenly, the ground exploded, and a black shadow burst into the air. There was no time to react. The man with the flipped hood landed in front of the two of them.
