Chapter 398: The Human Who Drinks Blood
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 398: The Human Who Drinks Blood
Hilde had been observing the Regressor throughout their journey. Tyr, ancient and powerful but even more so well-known, was practically a walking natural phenomenon. There was no need to know more about her, so Hilde kept me and the Regressor in her sights at all times, even running minor tests to gauge our reactions.
Her observation was akin to research. Appearance, origin, personality, voice and speech patterns, gait and Qi Art. She meticulously observed and studied every detail, then deconstructed it to overlay it onto herself. She relentlessly delved into the unique traits that defined a person, then used her superior acting to deceive others.
In the process, she sometimes uncovered the other person's hidden secrets. It was thanks to Hilde playing her part that she had discovered the Regressor's gender.
'Shei's weakness is clear. Interpersonal combat. Not in world-shattering battles where powers clash, but in fights among mortals, she's only slightly talented.'
The Regressor was certainly strong. But perhaps because she relied on the power of her relic, she had openings when fighting humans. They say it's hard to catch a chicken with a butcher's knife meant for a cow; how much trickier must it be to catch a small human with the sword of sky and earth. That was likely why the Regressor had struggled against Sunderspear Patraxion and Gunmaster Historia. Even more so if they had reached the Axiom.
Hilde hadn't reached the Axiom, but she had once been a Crusader. Her faith had gifted her miracles comparable to the Axiom.
…Unfortunately for her opponent, Hilde's faith was mutable, resulting in a Holy Sword that could change its form at will.
“…In that case~.”
Two daggers flew swiftly, as if to hook onto the Regressor's arms. One blocked the hand holding Jizan instead of the sword itself, while Chun-aeng met her hilt, locking them in a contest of strength. Within breathing distance, an advantageous range for daggers, they relentlessly exchanged blows and techniques. Just as the Regressor, having barely managed to cope, prepared to counter using the Heavenly Counter Domain...
'I' am Historia. The Gunmaster of the Military State. Pseudo-Explosive Discharge Domain.
A flinch. The Regressor's experience reacted before the Heavenly Counter Domain could. It was a dizzying sense of déjà vu she had experienced repeatedly in previous timelines.
This fighting style, always keeping the enemy at the point of her blade, was Gunmaster Historia's primary method of combat. Historia, a master of gunblades, used gunfire as her trump card to gain the upper hand. It didn't matter if she actually fired. By demonstrating the powerful gunshots derived from her Explosive Discharge Domain and keeping the muzzle aimed where it could fire at any moment, she could force her opponent into a disadvantageous position.
And now, Hilde was perfectly executing Historia's combat style. The Regressor, sensing this, twisted her body and infused Qi into Chun-aeng. At the same moment, Hilde's Holy Sword erupted in a flash of explosive light. The two blades extended, grazing past each other. The mid-air collision altered the swords' trajectories.
“…This is the Gunmaster's—!”
“Hoh. You're quite skilled at dealing with this, aren't you?”
It was different from Historia's technique. Instead of the Explosive Discharge Domain, she used her body's elasticity and the Holy Sword's explosive power. Instead of speed, she tore at her opponent with sharpness. The reach was also shorter; if the Regressor had been just two steps further away, it wouldn't have connected.
Different, yet the underlying principle was nearly identical. So much so that even the Regressor felt a sense of déjà vu.
“This is just the beginning~. Focus! If you miss again, this Holy Sword will be found embedded between your eyes!”
Lunken charged straight into the crowd. No more warnings. No more bestial roars. He prioritized the Progenitor's command over the ecstasy of battle. He swung his arms wildly, trying to sweep away as many people as he could.
Humans were dying. Azzy had no intention of allowing that. She howled fiercely and lunged at Lunken's back….
“I have no time to play, Dog King—!”
Just then, Lunken suddenly lifted a half-dead Guardian of Thunder and held him out. A crumpled human dangled in his massive hand. With a broken arm and a crushed leg, he was no different from a corpse, but he was still alive. That alone was enough to halt Azzy in her tracks.
“Woof! Woof woof!”
Azzy just jumped up and down, barking, her face filled with terror. As if begging him to stop the slaughter and turn his attention to her.
But Lunken ignored Azzy's cries. To faithfully carry out Tyr's will, he chased after the fleeing humans.
“I'll deal with you later—!! After I've fulfilled all of the Monarch's commands!”
As Lunken followed the Progenitor's will, darkness gradually enveloped him. The darkness, a power of the Progenitor that protected vampires from the cursed sunlight, bestowed its grace upon him. With the darkness, his blood energy would not be harmed even under the sun. He felt no resistance as he moved through the faint sunlight.
Able to draw out his full power, Lunken used it to carry out the Progenitor's command. Blood raged like a storm.
At that moment, Valdamir raised his greatsword. Clad in crimson blood energy, he took a step forward to begin the slaughter. With that single step, the space where humans could survive shrank. The sharply refined, swirling blood energy was like a storm of blades.
Amidst the carnage, Valdamir murmured calmly.
“You seem to have had a pleasant meeting.”
That was the end of his reflection. It was time to work.
Valdamir kicked off the ground. A red mist blurred, and in the next instant, he was in the middle of the crowd. The Guardians of Thunder who had approached to protect the Thunderarch flinched at the sudden appearance of the giant figure, and before they could react, they were swept away by a strike from the crimson greatsword. Blood crashed like a wave. Within the storm of blood energy, the only one who managed to react to the Lord Sanguine was the Thunderarch.
[…Lord Sanguine!]
The Thunderarch swung a bolt of lightning with her charged arm.
Her body, momentarily one with the lightning, shot forward at a similar speed. A sacred thunderbolt, condensed and condensed until it could burn even blood energy to black ash. Knowing that no ordinary power could kill an Elder, it was an attack the Thunderarch had prepared by intentionally closing the distance, even at the risk of being caught. Divine punishment was unleashed to smite the Elder.
The very power that moved Claudia was wielded to kill a single vampire...
But Valdamir moved a step faster. He inserted the hilt of his greatsword inside the Thunderarch's arm and gave it a slight twist and push. The greatsword acted as an axle, spinning them around. Their positions shifted, and the Thunderarch's attack missed, piercing empty air. The pure white lightning flowed down the Cloud Waterfall. The city's power vanished in vain.
No matter how strong the power, if the one wielding it is human, it can be overcome with human skill.
Valdamir, the Lord Sanguine—a swordsman called a genius from birth, who had gained power and experience by receiving original blood even after death—had already reached the pinnacle of human skill through pure technique alone. He didn't need to block the immense power with his body; he simply redirected it. And even that was just a tiny fragment of the Lord Sanguine's skill.
[Ah.]
They were on different levels. His power and skill were far superior. If an undying beast also honed its skills, how on earth was an ordinary human supposed to fight it?
The exhaustion after unleashing her power. Valdamir exploited the unavoidable opening that appeared before she could recharge. He gripped the spine of his greatsword and gave it a short push. She tried to defend, but her arm was twisted out of position. With a single, fluid motion, he neutralized her defense and tore into her body.
The Thunderarch's shoulder was split halfway open, and crimson blood soaked the greatsword's blade. She hastily tried to grab the flat of the blade with her other hand to push it away.
“Tougher than I expected.”
That was his only comment. If she was tougher than expected, he just had to use more force than he'd planned. Valdamir's greatsword drew in blood energy and ate away at the Thunderarch's body. Blood Codex. Like a blade pressing down and melting ice, the greatsword pushed through her arm. It was only a matter of time before it cut all the way through.
Just then, the Lord Sanguine's Qi Sense picked something up. An irresistible, immense flow was crushing the space he occupied. Though he was a moment from killing the Thunderarch, he pulled out his greatsword without hesitation and raised his arm to block the unknown attack.
Boom. His arm, covered in blood energy, exploded. Amidst the scattering blood, a small, cloth-wrapped fist was visible. Valdamir realized his opponent's identity and narrowed his eyes.
“The Saintess?”
“…”
His tough body couldn't withstand it for even a moment. It wasn't due to power or skill, but some kind of miracle from another dimension imbued in that fist. Valdamir, calmly assessing the situation, adjusted his grip on the greatsword's hilt and struck Feruel. The concise yet powerful attack, delivered as if by second nature, drove into Feruel's abdomen….
Thud. The greatsword, which had seemed to pierce her, was simply repelled. Despite carrying enough force to demolish a building, it didn't leave a single scratch on Feruel. Her skin wasn't even dented. The all-out strike from the strongest of the Elders could not change the outcome of her self-prophecy. Feruel's existence was already a certainty.
“In that case, I cannot kill you. It must be your fate.”
Valdamir accepted this fact. His mountain-like movements changed. He lowered his stance and held his greatsword short. It was too early to say he was planning to flee; his fighting spirit hadn't faded. Seeing the blood-soaked tip of his sword still pointed at the humans, Feruel clenched her fist and spoke.
“Fate... can be changed. Just as it is twisted now. But a vampire, a cursed being like you, has neither the power nor the right to change it.”
The immortality of an Elder was formidable, but not as perfect as the Progenitor's. If his head was blown off, his heart crushed, and his body minced and scattered into the sunset-lit sea, he would have no way of surviving. The target was the Lord Sanguine. To crush that cursed, strongest of vampires. Through her self-prophecy, Feruel caught up to the version of herself she had seen in the future.
An irresistible blow that words like 'strong' or 'hard' could not begin to describe. It was already fate, a truth. Before that attack, Valdamir….
'No! I have to stop the Lord Sanguine! No matter who else goes...!'
...yielded.
He did not resist Feruel's irresistible prophecy. He inserted his own body into that flow as an axis. As Feruel's fist was about to crush his arm, he used his body as a lever to redirect the force in another direction. Because their wills clashed, the crimson greatsword moved in a trajectory no one could have predicted. Spin. The red greatsword swung in a wide arc as it fell.
At the end of its path was the Thunderarch. The angel of lightning, gasping from her wounds, noticed the greatsword approaching as if to split her head far too late. She no longer had the strength to block it.
The greatsword cleaved through the Thunderarch's body. The blade dug in at her shoulder, reached her chest, and then pulled free. There was not a shred of hesitation in the cut. Instead of fighting the unkillable Feruel, Valdamir kept his distance as if fleeing, ruthlessly harvesting the lives of the wounded. Feruel's prophecy was entirely her own. It could not perceive the fate of the Thunderarch. Feruel, having lost the Thunderarch in vain, looked at Valdamir and shouted.
“Fight me head-on! If you truly wish to escape your terrible fate!”
Valdamir ignored Feruel's taunt. As if she wasn't even worth talking to. Instead, he answered by lifting his leg high and stomping on a human groaning at his feet. Warm blood splattered onto Feruel's face.
An enraged Feruel unleashed a series of fatal blows, but Valdamir responded calmly.
He simply took any direct hits. A punch that was too strong would simply pierce through Valdamir's body, failing to stop him. Even with a hole punched through his body, the Lord Sanguine silently continued to harvest humans.
If she tried a wide swing, he would sense it with his Qi and use its power against her. If Feruel tried to shatter his greatsword, he would twist it slightly. He would protect his head and heart, even if it meant sacrificing other parts of his body. Even as Feruel destroyed his body, he regenerated and calmly slaughtered the Guardians.
The Regressor's judgment had been correct. No one here could stop the Lord Sanguine. Above all, his slaughter was concise and efficient, making it both fast and quiet. Unlike Lunken's chaotic screaming, the humans Valdamir passed were left lying on the ground with a single cut somewhere on their bodies. And this was while Feruel was right on top of him.
Meanwhile, the Regressor, the only one who could possibly hold back the Lord Sanguine, was tied up by Hilde, who had similarly revealed all her cards. At this rate, no one would survive.
…And that was why Peru made her move.