Chapter Thirty-One: Death in Battle
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——Several minutes earlier——
"To think the first one to break through and arrive here would be you. You, who had already run away, actually dare to show up again?" The commander sat at the highest point, with monsters flanking him on all sides.
"Are you all still planning to keep up this act? Those soldiers are doomed; they’re of no use to you, so the one beside you is now useless as well. How much longer do you intend to keep him around?" Lancer ignored the commander entirely, addressing the monsters instead.
"Heh, is what you say true? Or are you simply here to sabotage our cooperation?" A female vampire lounged against the commander's body, questioning Lancer. Judging by her nearly “bursting” curves, Lancer suspected she was merely attempting to seduce him.
At this moment, though countless thoughts flashed through Lancer’s mind, his entire being was governed by combat instinct and the will to fight, allowing nothing to disturb his composure. His gaze was fixed intently on the “nameless” commander in the midst of the monsters.
"Really, how boring. But since this handsome young man wants you dead, little one, then let big sister oblige." Completely ignoring the commander’s look of shock and desperate pleas, she bit into his neck without hesitation, followed by the sound of slurping as if she were sucking jelly. The commander's body withered at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"All right, handsome, now that your target is dead, your mission should be complete, right? Come keep big sister company." The female vampire licked her lips, now even more alluring stained with blood, and spoke seductively to Lancer.
"Hmph~" Though Lancer was roaring inwardly, not a trace of emotion showed on his face. Only his grip on his twin blades tightened and his eyes grew ever keener.
"What a disobedient little brother. Ferguson, go bring this little one up to me." For some reason, despite the presence of many other dark creatures, the female vampire seemed to exert a subtle authority over them all. She perhaps had not yet heard that Lancer had already slain two vampire dukes, standing before him alone.
"It seems you vampires aren’t very well connected," Lancer suddenly remarked, seemingly out of nowhere.
"What do you mean by that? Are you suggesting our clan is inferior to the others?" Ferguson shouted at Lancer.
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"It looks like the stories are true after all—vampires do love to feud amongst themselves. Have you never heard, from any of your kin, that I’ve already killed two vampire dukes? I always assumed my reputation among vampires was fairly well known." Though Lancer now wore a cloak of “coldness,” his shameless nature was unchanged, and he wasted no opportunity to mock his enemies.
"Heh, little brother, do you think sowing distrust will help you now? Even if we do feud, we’ll wait until you’re caught before dealing with it." She finished with another lick of her lips.
"Come now, madam, you must be at least three or four hundred years old. There should be some basic moral standards even for a cougar, shouldn’t there?" He’d never courted a woman, but he knew how sensitive all female creatures were about their age. Whether born of his poisonous tongue or his cultivated talent for ridicule, he fired mercilessly at her sore spot.
"Hmph! We’ll see how you talk back after I’ve caught you." Her words echoed her earlier ones, but the grim tone couldn’t be concealed. "Seize him! Ferguson, I have no more time to waste." With that, she stopped speaking, and the middle-aged vampire who had just stood up fixed Lancer with a vicious glare.
"Boy, the princess has spoken. I don’t care what you’ve done, but don’t compare me to those impure-blooded weaklings. This will be your death day!" His eyes flashed red, nails instantly lengthening and bathed in blood.
"Be consumed by blood!" In a flash, he accelerated, leaving afterimages. Seeing Lancer standing motionless, Ferguson sneered. But Lancer’s next move left everyone stunned.
With a hiss, the twin blades at his waist were drawn in an instant, slicing the air and leaving an X-shaped rift before him. As Ferguson tried to dodge, he realized the “X” had forced the surrounding air to converge, trapping him completely.
"Ah!" In their very first clash, the first casualty among the vampires appeared. Lancer gave them no time to react; he drew the Sword of Thirst from his ring and thrust it straight into his own shoulder.
"What is he doing?!" In that instant, everyone froze, all eyes fixed on Lancer at the very front.
"Sword of Thirst, Caladbolg!" Though he was releasing its power as before, this time was different. Before, he had simply unleashed all the weapon’s strength, but now he triggered something greater—lightning itself.
Among nature’s limitless displays of might, lightning is the most common symbol of the unstoppable. This time, the vampires truly witnessed it: as the Sword of Thirst was driven into his shoulder, it transformed into a blaze of golden light. Without warning, a bolt of lightning struck the very spot Lancer stood, followed by a blinding flash. Even the vampire princess could not keep her eyes open. When they looked again, Lancer stood bare-chested at the arena’s center, arcs of lightning snaking across his body.
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Bang! Bang! Bang!...
But then, Lancer’s body suddenly exploded from within, blood blossoming in the air only to heal in an instant. This cycle repeated for a while before stopping, but now the aura around Lancer became wild and violent.
"What are you doing?! Are you trying to kill yourself?" As a vampire, she was particularly sensitive to the flow of blood. Now, before her eyes, Lancer’s blood was vanishing at a speed visible to the naked eye. She knew that even if they did nothing, Lancer would soon die. Still, she shouted, unable to comprehend why Lancer would do this. Was victory not possible by stalling for time until his comrades arrived? If the other knights joined them, some of these dark creatures might escape with their lives. But now, possessed by lightning, Lancer would never let them flee—and the price would be his own life.
"Seeking death? Quite right. My mission is complete. Now, let me make my final contribution for her, here at the end." Lancer could sense his time was short; at most ten minutes before his blood would be completely broken down by the lightning, and then his body would follow. With no words left to waste, he resolved to end it quickly.
With a speed nearly impossible to follow, he charged one of the monsters—a giant-eyed beast. A single straight punch landed squarely on its main eye, transparent fluids spraying in all directions.
A shriek erupted, the pain so great it could no longer float. Lancer didn’t spare it a glance, crushing it mercilessly underfoot.
"Now it’s your turn!" At this moment, in the eyes of the dark creatures, Lancer was the true devil.