Chapter 616 - 616: Night of the Demons Part Four

Chapter 616: Night of the Demons Part Four

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

Midnight was drawing near. The skies were a murky darkness, overwhelming the ruins. The soldiers, still in their dreams, had no idea what was happening outside. Within the ruins were two silhouettes quickly circling a lone witcher. The silhouettes’ clothes were billowing, but they were quiet. Agile and elegant, the vampires leapt out of the shadows to attack the witcher and shrank back into the darkness right away.

The grass, trees, and walls were crushed under the battle’s impact. Blood and sweat spilled into the air, fused with one another. Claws and swords cut through the night air. A fierce Lambert stood in the center of the battlefield like a reef under the assault of endless waves. With his right hand, he swung his blade, and with his left, he cast his Signs, fending off his enemies’ attacks.

Higher vampires were far superior fighters than bruxae, however. They were incredibly fast, and Lambert couldn’t land any effective blows. If this was a one-on-one fight, he could at least defend himself, but he was outnumbered, and he couldn’t fight back.

“Stop resisting. It’s futile. You will only hurt yourself.” Natanis’ voice slithered across Lambert’s ears.

The witcher felt goosebumps crawling over his body. Furiously, Lambert spun around, swinging his weapon. A silver flash arced through the air, but he couldn’t even touch Natanis.

The higher vampire moved backward and floated away, as if she weren’t bound by any rules of physics. Her lustrous lips cracked into a sultry smile, her crimson hair billowing in the air. A gust of wind slammed into Lambert from the other side. Regis appeared out of nowhere, and he smacked Lambert’s back.

The armor of Quen shattered, and the remaining impact shoved Lambert ahead. Sweat flew everywhere, and he sneered. “You say you prefer peace, and this is how you show it? By ganging up on me?” He swung his blade at the claw that was coming at him. Lambert mocked, “Just you wait. My brothers will avenge me, and not just you two smack talkers. He’ll find your blasted Elder and kick its ass!”

The higher vampires reappeared in midair and hurtled down like meteors. Lambert quickly made Quen, but the long battle had exhausted him, and he was one step too slow. Natanis smacked his blade away and stopped his casting. Regis attacked from the back, grabbing the witcher’s wrists. He pinned Lambert on the ground, just like how the witcher did to the bruxa.

There was guilt in Regis’ eyes. “I swear I will do my best to keep you alive.”

“Eat shit, you hypocrites! Your Elder’s a son of a bitch! Nothing but a coward who doesn’t even have the guts to show his face!” Lambert cursed, his face tense. Regis pushed down on the back of his head, and Lambert’s eyes went wide. He fell limp and went unconscious.

Regis shook his head, sighing. He leapt into the air and turned into a swarm of bats. The higher vampire picked up the witcher and flew toward the tomb. Natanis turned into a swarm of bats as well and flew toward the soldiers. She had to uphold her promise and take these people away from Fen Carn.

***

On the slope where chamomiles grew, six silhouettes came closer. One of them raised his hand, and his crossbow string hummed. Bolts hurtled through the air, traveling hundreds of yards easily, like comets.

The swarm of bats going into the tomb exploded, and the unconscious Lambert fell to the ground. From the point of explosion, a man with black hair and silver eyes emerged. He held an ivory, bonelike sword in his hand, swinging it down like a meteor, hacking it away at Regis, who’d just reformed into his human form.

Regis snarled, his fangs revealed. When the sword came after him, he felt like the world around him was crumbling away. The weapon coming at him was something he could not escape. No one could, as if it were fate that he must die.

But it was just an illusion. The older a higher vampire was, the stronger their powers were. Regis had lived for more than 400 hundred years. He could react a lot faster than most beings in this world. A split second before the blade could hit him, he moved away. A lock of his hair was cut off, however, and mysterious energy burned it into cinders.

The higher vampire let out a scream of fury and fear, the shadow of a bat surfacing on his face. As if electrocuted, the higher vampire leapt back ten yards, and he looked at the swordsman who attacked him. He was young. And handsome among humans. His face was covered in signs that he’d taken at least some decoction before coming into this battle. His eyes were gleaming coldly.

Underneath his feet was the circle of Yrden, shimmering in luminescence. Behind him was a crimson outline that danced like flames. The crimson silhouette struggled and howled. One look was enough to fill anyone with despair, as if a mountain were raining down on them.

Regis’ opinion on witchers had changed. Such power. He’s stronger than the first witchers who were born hundreds of years ago.

Roy looked around. He saw Lambert unconscious and Triss sleeping among the chamomiles. They were breathing. He heaved a sigh of relief and looked at the higher vampire before him, his eyes twinkling.

‘Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy

Age: 427 years old

And then Roy held a beautiful sword against her neck. Natanis, a higher vampire, was a hostage, and it only happened in mere moments.

“No, stop! Do not hurt Natanis!” Regis snarled. He’d lost his cool.

“Then stand where you are and don’t move. To be honest, I’ve slain a higher vampire who broke the rules before. The immortality you pride yourselves upon means nothing to me,” Roy warned, observing the lady before him. A lock of red hair brushed against his cheeks, and he caught a whiff of fresh scent.

The Queen of the Night was about two hundred years old, her stats lower than Regis. She too was weakened and suffering from loss of blood. Now she was under Fear’s effect and couldn’t move.

Roy nodded. Behind him, a crimson cross, sea-blue whirlpool, and a purple ball appeared, all shining with mana. The mutated longhorn, frost atronach, and Roy’s illusion clone appeared. Quickly, they took the unconscious Lambert and Triss to Roy, standing behind him.

“I am a fair person. Since my companions are unharmed, I shall return your lover to you.”

To Regis’ disbelief, Roy pushed Natanis’ silky back, and the higher vampire was reunited with her lover.

“Take my advice, you two. If I can defeat you once, I can defeat you twice. And more if I have to, but you will find mercy to be sparse should that day come. So don’t make any rash moves.”

Regis and Natanis exchanged a look, their faces turning a shade of green, purple, and red. No human had said something so brazen to them before. It was almost laughable, but they knew this man could really kill them.

“Who are you? Why do you seem to know me? And why did you come here?”

“I am Roy of the witcher brotherhood. Some people are born with more knowledge than everyone else. Through the stars in the skies and the trajectory of life, they can glean information invisible to the naked eye.”

Regis was still looking shocked. Roy smiled. “If this were another place, I’d have shared a drink or two with you, but for now, I’ll cut to the chase. I didn’t come to this elven burial site out in the wilds to make enemies out of you. I need you to hand over Erin of Kent and Gaetan of the Cat School. Don’t worry, I will not hurt them.”

The higher vampires were shocked. How did this man find out about that? It’s top secret.

“Don’t try to cover it up or lie to me. You people would never go this far just to bring a couple of corpses back home,” Roy answered, seeing through their question.

“No.” Natanis pursed her lips and shook her head. “You do not know how important Erin and Gaetan mean to our clans. I cannot hand them over to you.”

Roy looked at them calmly. “Then tell me your secret and I will decide for myself what to do. I am a reasonable man.”

A swarm of crimson bats came from afar and landed beside Regis. They then transformed into a man and a woman. The man had black hair, a pair of blue eyes, and a face the color of clouds. He didn’t have outstanding looks, but the gaze in his eyes left a deep impression on Roy. There was the wisdom of an elderly man and the obstinance and naivete of a young man. He felt... like some sort of conflicted fusion.

The woman had a necklace hanging around her neck, a gigantic gemstone embedded in it. She was like a noblewoman. They stood with Regis and Natanis, glaring at the witcher.

***

Dettlaff, the Beast of Beauclair. Orianna, the noblewoman of Toussaint. Ah, so it’s them. But I’m not surprised. They’re part of the Garasham tribe living in Toussaint, and they’re either lovers or good friends. It’s not surprising they’re up to a conspiracy.

Dettlaff’s back arched like a beast ready to hunt, and he snarled. “Witcher, you trespassed upon private land, pointed your weapons at us, and now you insult us? You wish to fight until death?”

“Oh, so we’re playing a numbers game, are we?” A sarcastic voice traveled through the air, and four silhouettes landed beside Roy.

Kiyan, Felix, Eskel, and Lytta looked at their enemies sharply. Felix caressed his silver blade covered in gooey higher vampire oil. There was a desire to fight flaring in his eyes. “Never ran into a higher vampire once over the last few decades, and now we’re facing four at once. This is big. If you’re trying to gang up on my companion, then you’ll have to fight us too.”

Everything fell into an eerie silence, like the calm before a storm. Tension was rising, and a battle was incoming.

***

Aiden took Dawo on his back, sneaking into the elven tomb to look for his daughter.