Chapter 23:

“Sizzle! What was that, why was it so bright?”

The sudden burst of light in the Smuggler’s Woods caused a stir among the tense players.

That light and flame were completely different. If one had to describe it, it was more like the blinding beam of a powerful searchlight illuminating an entire area, making the surroundings seem even darker by contrast.

But Murphy was clearly able to see more.

He was also a spirit user of sorts, and Lady Femis’s notes recorded similar things.

“Solar Spirit! The most effective method against dark creatures, and one of the most mysterious and rarest forms of spirit energy. It seems the lady has run into a formidable foe.”

Murphy spoke in a low voice, and the other players, realizing their nefarious strategy had succeeded, immediately erupted in celebration, behaving as if they were fishermen watching clams and cranes fighting. They acted as if they only needed to wait for the two sides to exhaust each other before rushing in to seize any leftovers, and everything would be fine.

However, this joy did not last long. Only a few minutes later, Murphy’s keen senses, honed in the darkness, picked up faint signs of movement.

“Shh!”

He hushed the players, placing his hand on the ground and infusing it with spirit energy. Soon, the clear sound of hoofbeats entered his perception.

“Someone’s coming, move in quickly, they’ll arrive in about five minutes. Prepare to ambush!”

With a sweeping gesture from Murphy, the players quickly scurried back to their assigned positions. The vampire retreated into the darkness but gave Maxim a hand signal before disappearing.

The white-haired servant took a deep breath, pulled down his mask, and strode toward the players in the ambush circle.

He knew his duty.

He had to play the role of “Murphy” to ensure his master’s safety and seize this opportunity.

He had no complaints about this, while Murphy himself hid in the ever-present darkness, as the strongest fighter in the players’ group. He had to patiently wait for the most critical moment to appear.

Soon, twenty Goldflower Kingdom cuirassiers appeared on the abandoned trail in the Smuggler’s Woods. They were not wearing full armor, maintaining a lighter and more agile stance, each holding a cavalry rifle. They were leading the way cautiously.

Behind them was a heavy black wagon drawn by two horses, with armed footmen guarding the front and rear.

As they rapidly approached the ambush circle, the sniper Lumina, lying in the branches, began taking aim. Lady Femis’s spirit practitioners had camouflaged this area, ensuring that ordinary people could not detect their presence.

But just as the cuirassiers were about to reach the pit trap area, a voice suddenly rang out from inside the wagon:

“There’s an ambush ahead! You fools! Stop!”

“Bang”

Seeing the well-trained cuirassiers slowing down, Lumina panicked but did not fire recklessly. Instead, she immediately swiveled her gun and pulled the trigger.

The bullet did not hit anyone but viciously struck the rump of one of the draft horses pulling the wagon.

The spurt of blood and excruciating pain startled the horse, causing it to neigh and charge forward. The driver could not control the suddenly frenzied animal and could only watch helplessly as the wagon crashed through the cuirassiers and careened down the dimly lit path.

The poor draft horse stepped into a pit trap, tumbling head over hooves and getting impaled by the vicious wooden stakes within. The heavy four-wheeled wagon also violently overturned in the jarring impact, spilling the boxes it carried everywhere and tragically crushing several footmen beneath it in a muffled explosion.

“Got it! Quick! Open fire!”

Onboard Joy Stick, whose heart was in his throat, could no longer wait and shouted at the top of his lungs. His comrades in the trenches and the Six Dorm Brothers in the foxholes immediately poked their heads out, unleashing a chaotic barrage of bullets and crossbow bolts.

Their blind firing was unsurprisingly inaccurate!

But the sheer volume was enough, and the volleys from over a dozen people managed to bring down a few cuirassiers.

From the side wagons where Dump Truck and Bulldozer Man were stationed, the two old buddies grinned and activated their heavy automatic crossbows, taking advantage of the scattered cuirassiers to unleash a satisfying barrage of bolts.

These old-fashioned weapons were incredibly intimidating.

The hail of crossbow bolts swept across the convoy like a raging storm, ripping apart the unprotected warhorses and forcing the well-trained cuirassiers to take cover behind the overturned wagons.

Everything was proceeding according to Joy Stick’s tactics, finally allowing the anxious commander to relax.

He emptied his lead ammunition, grabbed a halberd nearby, and with a howl, leapt out of the trench, yelling excitedly amid the echoing volleys of the crossbows:

“Everyone, charge with your knives! Brothers, follow me!”

“What knives are you talking about? Can you be a little more sensible?”

Meow King also grabbed a pike and jumped out, mocking the overly enthusiastic Joy Stick while following his charge. He turned to Succubus Old Tune and Black Stockings, saying:

“It just doesn’t feel right without a battle cry.”

“Yeah, it’s lacking that flavor.”

Then, a blade thrust at him, forcing the assailant back. After blocking a few strikes with the staff at his waist, he drew his sword with his left hand, catching the staff blade in his palm to engage the enemy.

The arriving Maxim stood with sword in hand, eyeing the figure warily.

The pierced tall hat slid off and wobbled to the ground. As it settled, the assailant grinned, his eyes glowing eerie green in the night.

He appraised Maxim’s luxurious mail and weapons, nostrils flaring as his fangs protruded. Licking his lips, he said:

“You’re the Blood Vulture’s dog! A true loyal blood servant, I can even smell your beating heart. Your blood must be delicious? State your name, commander!

I’ll include it in my battle report.”

“Maxim Cena Vlad!”

The servant knew what this meant.

He recognized the assailant as a vampire, but not of the Blood Vulture Clan. So, following his teachings, he responded solemnly:

“Jed...no, progeny of Murphy!”

“Murphy? Never heard that name, must not be important in the Blood Vulture Clan.”

The assailant scoffed, adopting a unique sword stance, eyeing Maxim like a starving wolf spotting prey, and said darkly:

“Joban Marci Gongreau! Greyclaw Faction of the Wolfsbane Clan, progeny of Colando!”

Announcing one’s bloodline was a vampire custom.

The ancient tradition ensured every bloodline death was accurately relayed, with the survivor responsible for delivering the message.

As the words fell, the two attacked simultaneously.

Maxim’s swordsmanship was decent, but his physical attributes were clearly inferior to a true vampire. After just a few exchanges, he was on the defensive.

Yet Maxim remained unfazed, his attacks growing more vicious. Relying on his sturdy mail, he weathered the blows like a wolf pup on its first hunt, determined to inflict wounds despite injuries.

Maxim’s sword was soon knocked away, but he charged recklessly, grappling with Joban at the cost of broken bones.

The Wolfsbane bloodline realized something was amiss and kicked Maxim away. However, the chilling spirit binding that manifested behind him made retreat impossible.

“Poof”

At the moment Joban was restrained by the “proficient” level Dark Spirit Blast: Bind, the Blade of the Desire Clan, wrapped in cold spirit energy, fell from above as Murphy descended, its impact-enhanced thrust piercing deep into Joban’s back.

Completing the sneak attack, blood lingered at the corner of Murphy’s mouth, freshly consumed from an unfortunate cuirassier. The sated bloodlust made him even more vicious and combative.

This sneak attack would not kill an elite vampire.

Far from enough.

But it drew this dangerous foe’s attention, giving the players more time to handle the chaotic battlefield.

“Revnor Murphy Lessenbra, Blood Vulture Clan, Fringe Faction, progeny of Tris!”

His voice rang in Joban’s ear, following the ancient bloodline dueling custom of introduction, but then mocked:

“Why put on such airs of ancient bloodline, you pathetic Wolfsbane runt? You even botched the courtesy when fighting my servant earlier. No fancy clothes can conceal your wretched lower-class stench.

Come with me! Disgraceful brute.

Let the blood of eternal sin reach Heaven’s ears, witnessed by the Night Mother in this eternal eclipse.”

“Bastard!”

The stabbed Wolfsbane brute’s face contorted as his human guise shattered, revealing his true inhuman Wolfsbane vampire form.

A grotesque hybrid of bat and wolf, the “Wilderness Transformation” unique to the Wolfsbane Clan.

Joban’s wolf-like gaze followed Murphy’s movements in the darkness. Gripping his staff blade, he spread his small wings and glided over.

One bloodline had challenged another to eternal eclipse!

No self-respecting vampire would refuse, let alone with the centuries-old feud between the Blood Vultures and Wolfsbane. Plus, that guy was the summoner behind these summons.

Kill him!

This crisis would then resolve itself!

So, let the hunt begin!