"Aaaargh!"
Tiansheng Zhankuang let out an enraged roar, stamping his foot as he activated Rage.
"Die, bastard!"
His eyes bloodshot, he leaped high into the air with the aid of Fly, violently swinging his greataxe toward the vampire suspended aloft.
Duke Brad smiled contemptuously.
"A laughable struggle."
The blood mist in the air churned, morphing into a cavernous, bloody maw that swallowed Tiansheng Zhankuang whole. Every drop of blood in his body was drained dry, leaving behind only a shriveled, wrinkled husk that plummeted to the ground.
Just as Tiansheng Zhankuang met his demise, several wooden arrows shot rapidly toward the vampire's heart.
*Whoosh—*
It turned out Tiansheng Zhankuang had only been drawing fire, while Singo's wooden arrows aimed at the heart were the true strike.
*Snap.*
Yet those arrows were caught effortlessly in a pair of pale hands, then snapped in two.
"How is that possible...?"
Singo couldn't help muttering to himself. He hadn't expected the boss to be this absurd—boasting not only potent spell-like abilities, but also unbelievable physical strength.
"Pitiful vermin."
A sinister grin appeared on Duke Brad's face as he spoke:
"I was once the most valiant general in all of Anzeta. I rode giant eagles across battlefields far and wide, invincible wherever I went."
"And now, I am an existence far more exalted."
"Did you truly think—"
"You were worthy of being my opponents?"
Duke Brad descended slowly. Surrounding him was not only a surging blood mist, but countless shadowy hands coiled around his form.
*Vampiric Touch.*
Anyone ensnared by those shadowy hands suffered unimaginable necrotic damage, their vitality rapidly drained away.
That vitality surged and flowed through the shadow tendrils, finally pouring into Duke Brad's body to nourish him.
"Cleric, give me a heal!"
"Cast Haste on me!"
Bazhe shouted toward Fengyun.
Yet before the words had finished leaving his mouth, a black tendril erupted from the ground and coiled tightly around him. His burly body instantly withered into a desiccated husk.
"I need a chance to ca—"
Before Charlotte could finish, blood mist engulfed him from behind, wrapping him tight.
Singo stood at the edge of the stone dais, drawing his bow to fire at the vampire once more, but black tendrils sprouted from the floor, coiling around him and dragging him down into the bottomless abyss.
The players scrambled desperately for their lives, dodging the horrifying blood mist and tendrils, while Duke Brad stood at the center of the dais, pacing lazily back and forth.
"I am the Lord of Darkness."
"I am the Sovereign of the Night."
"Trespassing here is the greatest mistake of your lives!"
His voice was hoarse and low, like the sentence of a god of death in the night, coldly pronouncing everyone's doom.
Countless bats and rats surged out of the dark, obeying the Sovereign of the Night's command, throwing themselves forward in relentless waves. One player was even gnawed to mincemeat by thousands of rats.
"Divine Smite!"
Mezrolash unleashed a slash trailing bloody light, severing the shadow tendrils striking from behind. The Aura of Protection enveloping him held back the corroding blood mist.
He raised his bloodstained greatsword high.
*Oathbreaker Channel Divinity: Dreadful Aspect.*
A burst of magical dread condensed and erupted outward, scattering the rats and bats swarming in from all directions.
Mezrolash glared unblinkingly, leveling his blade straight at the duke.
"I am going to kill you, vampire."
His pure black eyes were wide, glinting with a frigid light. Through gnashing hatred burned a tinge of madness, like an eerie ghost fire that even made Duke Brad feel a chill in his heart.
Duke Brad feigned thoughtful contemplation for a moment before breaking into a mocking smile.
"Oh? I remember you."
"The leader of the devilspawn, the pathetic scapegoat."
"Tsk. Back then, your wails and weeping lasted three days and three nights, bringing me boundless joy. Meanwhile, my righteous, valiant subjects vented their wrath to their hearts' content, soaking all of Northwind Keep in tiefling blood until even the moat ran red with gore."
Duke Brad's tone was breezy, as if he were recounting some delightful little trifle.
"Still, it was hardly a waste. Your kin died a worthy death, earning me the chance at glorious ascension."
"Everything was so perfect. The only regret was that you managed to slip away."
"Though now... that regret shall be remedied as well."
A smirk curled on Duke Brad's lips, and a crimson gleam flashed in his eyes.
He relished seeing the despair and anguish in the eyes of mortals. Clearly, Mezrolash was brimming with both, and Brad would personally snuff out the tiefling's hope of vengeance.
"I will kill you."
"Kill you..."
Mezrolash swung his sword again and again, severing the relentless shadow tendrils, forcing his way step by agonizing step to within a dozen paces of Duke Brad.
Wounds emitting wisps of necrotic smoke broke open across his body as vile power greedily consumed his life force, but Mezrolash's face was completely numb, entirely heedless of the pain.
His wife and child struggling in the flames seemed to materialize before him. The wronged souls of countless slain kin seemed to appear before him, crying out in unison:
*Kill him.*
Watching the tiefling draw nearer, Duke Brad's pale face flushed with excitement.
"Yes, exactly like that. An iron will, shattered sanity, the intoxicating glimmer of vengeance..."
"Only to be plunged into the abyss by my hand..."
He eagerly licked his lips. Blood steeped in such despair required meticulous cultivation; it was as sweet as the richest vintage.
"Come then, kill me, devilspawn!"
"Hahaha! Do you crave revenge? Want to slaughter your mortal enemy?"
Duke Brad spread his hands carelessly.
Mezrolash surged forward in a single stride, bringing down his blade with all his might. The greatsword, blazing with bloody light, cleaved straight toward the vampire's neck.
The wet sound of steel tearing into flesh rang out.
Duke Brad made no move to dodge or parry, letting the blade slice through his skin and bite deep into the meat of his neck.
Blood sprayed violently.
It even splattered across Mezrolash's face.
Yet Duke Brad simply gripped the blade with his bare hand and yanked it out of his neck by brute force. As the bloodstained greatsword was pulled free, the wound on his neck closed at visible speed, restoring itself completely.
He idly turned the bloodstained greatsword in his hands.
"Very good. Put a bit more strength into it."
"However, an attack of this caliber is nowhere near enough to kill me. After all, I am an immortal existence."
A smile spread across Duke Brad's face. He eagerly anticipated the familiar expression of despair, regret, and terror dawning on Mezrolash's face.
But Mezrolash showed nothing of the sort.
His earlier fury seemed to have been a mere disguise.
Instead, the tiefling's expression turned eerily calm. His pitch-black pupils stared fixedly at the vampire before him. "A long time ago—roughly seven years ago—I began pondering how to kill you."
"You are powerful, with virtually no weaknesses."
"Yet you are too arrogant. You look down on all mortal creatures... and even on your enemies."
"What?"
The bloodstained greatsword flared with an intense magical radiance. It was a spell Mezrolash had spent years scouring all of Anzeta to find, sealed into the blade specifically to incapacitate the vampire—
*Otto's Irresistible Dance.*
Under the spell's influence, Duke Brad began shuffling, swaying, and tapping his feet in place, looking thoroughly ridiculous.
Yet Mezrolash did not dare relax for an instant, knowing full well the terrifyingly powerful vampire could break free of the spell's binding at any moment.
"Alger!" Mezrolash roared.
At this moment, two men who had once regarded each other as mortal enemies joined hands against their dreadful foe.
A resonant eagle's screech pierced the darkness as Alger, who had been lying in wait for so long, finally revealed himself.
Holding a wooden spear dipped in holy water, he dove down at breakneck speed.
Alger's golden eyes, now slitted like a dragon's, burned with an endless fury ready to erupt. The Alger of the past was long dead; what survived in this world was the minion of an evil dragon, a Redscale Conqueror born for vengeance.
He would slay this vampire who had slaughtered countless innocent lives.
He would put an end to this tragedy.
*Thwack!—*
With the wet crunch of a spearhead piercing flesh, the wooden spear burst through the vampire's back, impaling the heart that should have ceased beating long ago, yet still harbored boundless evil power.
The holy water soaked into the wood scorched the vampire's thoracic cavity, hissing and sizzling with intense heat.
Brad Lakeman was pinned firmly to the ground by the wooden spear. His head drooped, blood trickling from the wound, and the dancing steps of Otto's Irresistible Dance came to an abrupt halt.
"Hah... hah..."
"Mezrolash, is it over?"
Alger landed the giant eagle on the ground. Overwhelmed by tension and adrenaline, he panted heavily, his breath carrying the scent of sulfur.
"I'm afraid it is far from over."
"Listen."
Mezrolash stared at the corpse-like vampire, his brow deeply furrowed, his voice grim.
Alger snapped to alert, drawing the Everburning Greatsword from his back, surveying their surroundings warily.
"He is everywhere..."
"Let our blood boil within His body..."
"Let us embrace the glorious ascension..."
The chanting of the vampire spawn continued, growing ever more plaintive, ever more wretched.
The heavy chains still bound them, the bloody light still tethered them to Duke Brad, and even the sinister magic array beneath their feet pulsed with an uncanny vitality.
Suddenly, one of the vampire spawn bound to a pillar—a hulking, morbidly obese figure—burst apart, turning into foul, viscous blood.
Before dying, he muttered, "I shall attain eternal life within His immortal flesh!"
That was Telaviv Lakeman, the duke's second son, the famed Corpulent One, symbol of Gluttony.
Immediately following, the gory spray flowed along the bloody light into Brad Lakeman's body. His gaunt frame swelled tall and burly—he had absorbed Telaviv Lakeman's Constitution.
Finally, what Mezrolash and Alger feared most came to pass.
He revived.
Or rather, he had never truly died.
The wooden spear trembled along with Duke Brad's body.
A deep voice echoed through the bunker.
"Hahaha..."
"Such magnificent power."
"Centuries of lying dormant, all for this very moment..."
The once corpse-like Duke Brad actually rose slowly to his feet, ripping the wooden spear from his chest with his bare hands.
As he pulled it free, flesh and blood rapidly filled the wound. By the time the spear was completely removed, the bloody hole in his chest was fully restored.
Having absorbed the ascension offerings, he had shed the vampire weakness of a stake through the heart, becoming an absolute, truly immortal monster.
Duke Brad grinned.
"Fortunately, this power has not disappointed my expectations."
By the time he finished speaking, Duke Brad's body had swollen to three meters tall, allowing him to look down upon Alger and Mezrolash. His scarlet eyes brimmed with greed.
Sniffing the scent of blood in the air, he recognized his former subordinate.
"Oh? It's actually you."
"Alger Yeoman, once my most trusted hound. I thought you had died on Storm Heights long ago. I had originally intended to turn you into an immortal being as well, to serve me for all eternity. Alas, you missed your chance."
"Yet you are merely a hound. How dare you... turn and bite your master?"
Alger's half-dragon face instantly twisted with rage, his golden slitted eyes ablaze with fury.
"Brad Lakeman, you destroyed everything I had."
"I will kill you!"
Duke Brad approached unhurriedly, exuding an overwhelming aura of oppression.
"So you found out?"
"Poor little creature. I had intended to tell you the truth just before turning you. What a pity I didn't get to savor your agonized expression back then. Otherwise... I would have been beside myself with joy."
"You bastard!"
Mezrolash severed another shadowy tendril striking at him and shouted harshly, "Don't let him provoke you! Hurry and destroy the spawn, or his power will only keep growing!"
Snapped back to reality, Alger vaulted onto the giant eagle.
Yet it was already too late. A vampire spawn bound to another stone pillar, this one slender and shapely, detonated into foul, viscous blood.
Before dying, she moaned loudly, "I shall find fulfillment in His eternal desires!"
That was Lilani Lakeman, the duke's second daughter, symbol of Lust.
The bloody spray once again coursed along the crimson light into Brad Lakeman's body. An uncanny light danced in his scarlet eyes, and he seemed the very embodiment of desire—he had absorbed Lilani Lakeman's Charisma.
Duke Brad gazed at Alger.
"Your struggles are quite amusing."
"Since that is the case, then carry your endless hatred and become my faithful hound once more, Alger."
In his scarlet eyes flashed the magical glow of enchantment.
*Dominate Person.*
"No!" Alger roared.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying with all his might to resist the spell.
Yet no matter how unyielding his will, he could not overcome a spell infused with the cardinal sin of Lust. Alger once again fell into Duke Brad's thrall, reduced to a marionette on strings.
"Die!"
His eyes vacant, Alger swung the Everburning Greatsword straight at Mezrolash beside him.
Weaponless, Mezrolash could only dodge frantically. Under Alger's superb swordsmanship, wounds accumulated across his body, and his expression grew increasingly grim.
*We cannot go on like this.*
*Still, Master should be arriving soon.*
So he thought, clutching in his palm a crimson crystal that had already been shattered.
Chapter 137