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Chapter 150:



As the blade left its sheath, a bone-chilling cold gust rushed down, with delicate frost visibly weaving onto the slender sword blade, rapidly gathering to form a lethal spirit frost blade atop the transparent ice layer.

This cool entrance made Murphy blink his eyes.

He wasn’t sure if this was a weapon effect or a unique power of the vampire count before him.

Behind the Count of White Mountain, three Thorn Vampires also glided elegantly into the courtyard. However, compared to the Blood Vulture Clan, their small wings spread out looked quite laughable. Those short and exquisite Blood Wings made Murphy worry that they might break on the next flap due to the weight.

They could never support a vampire soaring freely in the sky. Indeed, flight was the privilege of Blood Vultures under the midnight!

“But it doesn’t matter, the little ones are quite adorable.”

Murphy raised his Desire Demon Blade and said to Maxim beside him:

“What a letdown. I thought we’d at least face a silver-rank powerful outsider, leaving us with a glorious record for our first encounter with other clans.”

Maxim didn’t respond, only slowly drawing out the black ceremonial blade of the tomb guards from his waist.

The two of them, master and servant, were about to face four aggressive Thorn Vampires, clearly outnumbered. However, neither Murphy nor Maxim showed any fear, not even calling for backup from Adele and the other six descendants.

The maid was still helping Murphy’s warriors covertly assassinate and execute the Blood Vulture traitors hiding in the city, ensuring their numbers would be reduced to a safe level before sundown.

That was a necessary task.

Adele and Maxim, who inherited Murphy’s blood, also seemed to have inherited Murphy’s unique trait, their aversion to sunlight was far less than other vampires, making their rapid movement at dusk possible.

“Release my servant! Sir.”

The Count of White Mountain strode forward, his voice cold amidst the swirling chill:

“Perhaps we can resolve this dispute in a more dignified manner.”

“The new Blood Vulture Grand Duchess has ascended to the throne. However, the Blood Vulture descendants dwelling in this city did not appear at Duchess Tris’s ceremony, making the regrettable choice between loyalty and rebellion.

All of this is your doing! It is you who have doomed the pitiful and shameful traitors to lose their lives tonight!

It is you who acted undignified first!

Thus, permit me to speak frankly, sir. I believe you lack the qualification to make such grandiose statements in my domain!”

Murphy kicked aside the severely injured Thorn Vampire at his feet, precisely kicking him into the waning sunlight reflecting through the broken window, causing the latter to let out a piercing scream.

Amidst the accompaniment of that scream, the vampire lord pointed his demon blade at the other party and said:

“You seem like someone in charge, so surrender! Come with me to the Crimson Citadel to face Grand Duchess Tris. If she chooses to pardon you, I have no objections.”

“Impossible.”

The other party advanced with his sword.

Negotiations broke down, prepare to attack!

“Kekeke!”

As the Blood Spirit vultures screeched and dived from above, the Astral Direwolves howled and pounced out of the shadows, reigniting the chaos in the courtyard.

The three attendants behind the Count of White Mountain wanted to protect their master, but Maxim stood like an iron wall before them amid the blood surge from the massive flapping of Blood Wings.

As Murphy’s descendant, he naturally learned from his master to enhance and place the tomb guards’ undead under his control. The Death’s Grasp he unleashed was identical to Murphy’s teachings.

Unfortunately, Maxim was still learning to perceive and precisely manipulate spirits.

His skill went awry!

Unable to bind the three nimble Thorn Vampires before him.

But it wasn’t a big issue.

With the Blood Vulture Spirit Revnor and the Astral Direwolf George assisting, the situation before Maxim was 3-versus-3. The tremendous bonuses from the Elite Template allowed the black iron-rank Maxim to fear no challenge.

As for the battle inside the house,

it was hardly worth mentioning.

Murphy’s unruly total of 104 attribute points was enough for him to proudly proclaim his invincibility at the black iron rank, which was indeed the case.

As soon as the two clashed, the noble’s sword emanating chill in the Count of White Mountain’s hand nearly slipped out.

This guy is so strong!

Is he really a Blood Vulture who can only fly, or a ferocious Wolfsbane?

The Count of White Mountain took a step back, sword sweeping horizontally to parry, but Murphy pressed forward instead of retreating.

Facing the frigid sword blade, Murphy charged forward, and at the moment of being struck, he noticed the other’s sword trail and transformed his entire form into a scattered flock of bats, perfectly dodging the blow.

Heh, nimble little bat!

“!”

The Count of White Mountain sensed danger.

This young man immediately invoked the unique heritage of the Thorn Clan. Just as the Blood Vultures had the privilege of soaring the skies, the Thorn Clan also possessed a mysterious power inherited from their origins.

As Murphy reappeared from his agile bat dodge, he closed in with shadow steps and thrust his demon blade into the seemingly younger vampire, drawing forth a gushing stream of icy blood. Preparing to land a second strike to cripple this kid, he suddenly felt a searing heat erupt within his mind.

As if a mental bomb had exploded, leaving him dazed and confused in an instant.

At that moment, Duchess Tris’s earnest reminder to him before leaving the Crimson Citadel surfaced in his mind:

“The Thorn Clan are the Descendants of Envy, with envy’s blood flowing through their veins, allowing them to sense and manipulate others’ emotions. Besides their heightened ability to perceive emotions, these Envy Descendants also possess the Midnight Blessing of ‘Emotion Ignition.’

Therefore, when facing them, you must remain sufficiently calm! If your emotions become too intense, they may find an opportunity to deal a fatal blow to your mind.”

“Bang!”

Taking advantage of Murphy’s daze, the Count of White Mountain, clutching his abdominal wound, thrust his frigid noble’s sword towards Murphy’s heart with precise and ruthless force, clearly practiced from a young age and with his own sword art comprehension.

However, staging a reversal was not so easy. Murphy’s Desire Demon Blade howled, breaking free from its wielder’s control and slashing towards the Count of White Mountain in a precise defensive sword form.

This counterattack foiled the latter’s offensive, forcing him to retreat continuously under the Gale Storm-like barrage of strikes from the demon blade.

Astonishment flashed in his gray eyes.

This isn’t right!

I clearly knocked him out and gained the advantage, so why has my situation become more perilous after he was dazed?

Hey!

You vampire over there, are you kidding me?

How can your sword fight better than you? So, are you actually just a human vessel binding this demon sword? Knocking you out triggers the second phase, right?

“Emotion Ignition, what a despicable ability!”

Murphy regained clarity a second after being dazed.

He shook his head, the lingering emotional burning in his mind making him extremely uncomfortable. The mental damage and tearing even spread to his body, causing a twinge of pain in his chest, akin to the unbearable ache of a breakup.

He looked up, watching the Count of White Mountain being driven back by the Desire Demon Blade’s relentless attacks, flexing his fingers to summon his Night Claws, but with no response.

The setting sun shone through the window, mere minutes before nightfall. In that brief transition when sunlight had yet to depart and night had not arrived, the hunting claws bestowed by darkness would not answer the midnight child’s call.

So Murphy stepped back, raising his hand to channel spirits in the form of Death’s Grasp, precisely binding the Count of White Mountain’s ankles and lifting him into the air before slamming him violently to the ground. Seizing the opportunity, Necessary Evil accelerated past the Count’s neck, releasing the intoxicating aroma of delicious blood.

The demon blade, driven by the thirst for fresh blood, became even more frenzied, emitting an ominous hum at an ever-increasing speed, like dark lightning repeatedly assaulting the Count of White Mountain’s precarious sword defense.

“Making a stranger’s heart ache on our first meeting, you truly are a man of profound sin!”

Murphy tossed out a flirtatious remark, casting Spirit Blasts in various forms to continuously disrupt the retreating Count of White Mountain’s sword techniques, allowing Necessary Evil to “play” to its content while brushing up on his spirit skill proficiency.

He also periodically summoned Astral Realm creatures to charge forward, further overwhelming the Count.

Within 30 seconds of battle, the Count’s luxurious leather armor had acquired several dangerous wounds, and his icy blue cloak was tattered like a beggar’s “ceremonial outfit.” This young foreign vampire had realized he could not possibly win this fight!

Although this Blood Vulture vampire shared his black iron rank, his combat prowess was at least twice that of the Count!

The Count had fought with all his might, yet his opponent remained unperturbed. As a wise man of noble status in this situation, he knew what to do.

Of course, it was to flee.

No, it was a strategic retreat!

“Bang!”

The chilling noble’s sword swept forward, a unique sword art as crisp and elegant as a winter breeze, once again deflecting the Desire Demon Blade.

The Count of White Mountain stepped back, raising his left hand, a cold radiance floating in his palm. With a deep breath exhaled forward, it manifested as a frigid wave freezing all before him.

Murphy even saw visible snowflake-like spirit particles swirling in the air.

The frost rapidly froze the ground where it touched, even temporarily encasing the soaring demon blade in mid-air, causing it to drop to the ground with a thud, unable to fly.

“This is definitely not a power the Thorn Clan should possess! Nor is it a power vampires can acquire! This kid is a bit odd.”

Murphy kicked the window beside him, gracefully leaping through the shattering glass without a hint of clumsiness, avoiding the frozen ground. The Count of White Mountain performed the same maneuver, and after releasing this formidable control spell, he grabbed his frozen attendant Vesta and leapt out the window.

At this point, Maxim had already floored one of the three Thorn Vampires in the courtyard. The remaining two, seeing their master retreat, knew it was time to withdraw.

They escorted the Count of White Mountain in a gliding retreat, but behind them, Murphy and Maxim’s massive crimson Blood Wings suddenly spread open in the final moments of dusk.

Night had finally fallen.

The mother’s blessing fell equally upon every vampire, allowing the Thorn Clan to accelerate their escape.

However, upon hearing the thunderous flapping of wings behind them, the three realized they had made a fatal, hellish mistake.

Attempting to glide away from Blood Vultures capable of soaring the skies?

Was this truly a tactic you seriously considered, or were you trying to make Murphy and Maxim laugh themselves to death, giving you a chance to escape?

“Bang!”

The pursuers behind struck like meteors, with Maxim “death-dropping” at over twice the speed of sound like a vulture preying, violently colliding in a bat-like strike that slammed the two Thorn Vampire baron escorts to the ground.

Finally able to manifest in the darkness, the crimson claws crisscrossed like curved blades, precisely and ferociously piercing through their armor and into their flesh, instantly ending the battle. The two who were attacked didn’t even have time to transform into bats and flee before being beaten to near death.

The ancient claws with true damage were that overbearing!

“Swish swish swish”

The sound of massive wings flapping stirred up the wind on this street. Before the Count of White Mountain, Murphy descended slowly, his hands also transformed into the ferocious Night Claws.

He hovered a few inches above the ground, completely blocking the count and his servant’s escape route.

“Your Highness, go!”

Vesta, whose legs were still self-healing, loyally protected his master, but alas, before he could finish his words, a humming black blur charged from behind with a ferocious collision that could tear through walls.

Carrying the humiliation of being toyed with and its temper frayed, the greedy blood-craving demon blade Necessary Evil instantly accelerated three times, piercing through Vesta and the Count of White Mountain’s bodies at a lightning speed even Murphy couldn’t discern.

Hot blood spilled into the night, but the young man already showing despair still gripped his sword in defiance.

This stubborn attitude further enraged the Desire Demon Blade, prompting it to repeatedly pierce through them three more times in the next second, and on the fourth execution strike, it precisely impaled the Count of White Mountain’s heart, ravenously devouring the delicious fresh blood of the Thorn Clan.

“Enough!”

Murphy flashed forward, gripping the hilt of Necessary Evil.

He rebuked:

“I need him alive!”

The demon blade had gotten carried away.

It even resisted Murphy. The vampire lord narrowed his eyes, invoking the admin system’s antivirus program.

Of course, it was just a bluff.

This thing couldn’t activate itself without coming into contact with the chaotic spirit entities of the sub-space.

However, as the familiar purifying aura emanated from Murphy’s fingers, the blood-crazed demon blade immediately became as docile as a quail, allowing Murphy to smoothly withdraw it from the Count of White Mountain’s heart.

“Go!”

Murphy waved his hand casually.

The demon blade that had just tasted the delicious fresh blood obediently hovered by his side, while chaotic silhouettes of the Blood Vulture traitors soaring through the night sky appeared behind its master.

The vampire lord spoke in a low voice under the whistling night:

“In my name, slay the rebels. Leave only ten to be executed! The rest of the blood essence is yours.”

“Hum”

The Desire Demon Blade instantly became ecstatic.

It swayed in the air, seeming to praise its new master’s generosity and magnanimity. While in Salrokdar’s hands, it never had the opportunity to execute Blood Vulture members at will and steal their blood essence.

This greedy, bloodthirsty blade obediently circled Murphy a few times in a fawning manner, as if saying, “You’re not a bad guy.”

Afterwards, it accelerated in the air, transforming into a dark meteor with a gloomy screech, disappearing into the night sky, and within the first second of taking flight, it slew a Blood Vulture traitor attempting to fly out of Bataxin City.

It even understood tactics!

The demon blade’s tactic was to bully the weak and fear the strong!

Since it was still quite weak, it would first target the weaker traitors to sate itself, before collaborating with Murphy’s servants and warriors to ambush the stronger ones.

“Ah, under Salrokdar it was like a rampaging blood dragon, crushing all defiance. But in my hands it’s become a gluttonous but obedient hound, only daring to bully the weak.

Of course, I don’t think this is my problem.”

Murphy sighed.

He used his ferocious Night Claws to lift the Count of White Mountain’s pale chin, raising his weak face to look into those gray-blue eyes with crimson specks.

In those young eyes, he saw despair and resignation, anger and unwillingness, pain and release, as if already prepared for eternal silence.

Murphy tilted his head and said:

“You were also recently turned, weren’t you, Count?”

“How-how dare you say that?” The Count of White Mountain clearly wanted to preserve a shred of dignity, defiantly retorting.

However, Murphy laughed and said:

“If you were an experienced vampire, you would have known to flee upon seeing my Necessary Evil. Yet you charged like a naive youth.

Either you’re too young to recognize this midnight sacred blade.

Or you’re a fool.

Which conclusion should I believe?”

“Necessary Evil?”

The weakened count suddenly realized, letting out a low, pained laugh. He said:

“So it’s the legendary Desire Demon Blade, no wonder. But isn’t the new clan leader a lady? Why is this Grand Duchess’s proof in your hands? Who are you? At least…at least let me die understanding!”

“Don’t worry, you won’t die.”

Murphy pressed down on his shoulder with his left hand, his right claw smoothly piercing his opponent’s heart. With a sudden force, he split open the vampire’s heart, leaving this Count of White Mountain, whose identity was clearly questionable, weakened under the midnight.

He whispered in his ear:

“My name is Murphy! Revnor Murphy Lessenbra. I am the lord of this land beneath your feet, displeased by being offended. I am the Count of Kadman, and the future Governor of Transia.

Foreign Count, you make an excellent bait, perhaps luring out someone more important.

Sleep now, failure.

Tonight’s humiliation is not your fault, you performed perfectly.

You were simply too weak, that’s all.”


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