CHAPTER 120: WHY WON’T YOU JUST DIE ALREADY?!

As the explosion finally stopped echoing from the underground, the ancient castle above trembled faintly, its walls groaning as loose stones cracked and shifted. Outside, the dark sky stirred with the frantic cawing of crows, scattering in a black swarm as if fleeing from something.

The yellow flames and dust slowly settled down, the smoke curling in the air before fading to reveal the underground.

The stone floor was scarred with craters, small blasted holes marking the devastation. And among those blasted holes there lay a figure, twisted, broken, almost... riddled with holes.

One leg missing entirely, the other barely hanging to his body by shreds of flesh. His torso... partly gone, torn apart as if something monstrous had bitten it off.

His arms dangled, barely clinging to what was left of his frame.

Half of his face had been obliterated, the remaining side a grotesque mask of torn flesh and exposed sinew. One eyeball, half-lidless, rolled weakly in its socket, twitching without control.

... This was Dracula.

Step...

Step....

A weak, steady sound of footsteps echoed through the ruined cavern. Dracula’s half-rolled eye shifted sideways, sluggishly dragging its gaze until it fell upon the figure emerging through the smoke... Leo, walking toward him.

Leo’s body, though his clothes were burned and torn, stood almost fine with few scratches and bruises. He had survived what should have killed him a hundred times over.

Leo stepped forward slowly until he stood towering above the almost-destroyed body. He watched closely as the shredded flesh of Dracula twitched, attempting to mend, the unnatural regeneration... but it was slowed.

Thu!

Leo spat directly onto Dracula’s ruined face. The last working eye flinched. A low, cruel smirk touched Leo’s lips.

"Do you... know the reason you lost?..." His voice was low, "Because you’re arrogant.

You believed I, a mere mortal, could never harm you. You thought yourself untouchable. That arrogance blinded you... and that’s where your downfall begins."

He knew Dracula’s arrogance well. He had seen it, every action. Anyone who looked at him could tell what kind of man he was—a tyrant who thought the world beneath his heel.

That arrogance was the reason he had fallen.

When Leo threw the cards, it had never been random. Every flick had purpose, every angle calculated. He threw exactly as Dracula would expect... first a single card, that barely touched him. That single act was bait... fueling Dracula’s pride, making him believe Leo’s efforts were pathetic and futile.

Then came the real strike. Cards with stones bound to them, carefully hidden on the underside, so that when they fell, the stones would land unseen.

Dracula had watched, amused, entertained by what he thought was a desperate struggle. He had savoured it, enjoyed the ant crawling before him.... Exactly what Leo wanted him to believe.

That was Leo’s trick. That was his art. He wasn’t just a thief who stole shiny things. He was a thief of opportunity, one who studied his prey, who anticipated every movement, every weakness before executing his plan.

Though there had been mistakes, small hiccups in the chaos, it didn’t matter. In the end, Leo had still brought Dracula to ruin with nothing but his wit and the enemy’s weakness.

He had already witnessed how the green stone reacted when surrounded and blasted... With that knowledge, he connected the pieces, set the trap, and detonated it all—bringing Dracula down with him.

Leo’s hand pressed against his stomach. Even though his wounds had healed enough to let him stand, his body was still screaming. Pain couldn’t be erased so easily. Healing covered the flesh, but agony lingered deep in the muscles and bones. That kind of pain could not be shrugged off. It needed time...

"....n..."

Dracula’s healing lips moved slowly, forming broken words. He muttered something, but the sound was too faint to hear.

Leo smirked. "What? I couldn’t hear that," he taunted. He pressed his boot down hard on Dracula’s shattered face, grinding him into the dirt with a haughty smile. Lowering his tone to a cruel whisper, Leo added,

"An eye for an eye... and pride for a pride."

He then bent down, picking up a large stone from the rubble. He hovered it just above Dracula’s ruined head.

Dracula’s eyes widened, trembling, as if in the last shred of resistance.

THUCK!!

The stone came crashing down, smashing into his skull. His twitching, broken body stiffened... and then stopped moving altogether.

Leo stared at the corpse for several seconds before finally turning his gaze away... toward the cloaked figure lying nearby, her body drenched in blood.

It seemed she had somehow... escaped from the blood pool.

Leo walked closer and crouched down beside her. "Oi? Are you alright?" he asked, his voice softer now.

There was no reply. His brows furrowed—until he noticed the faint rise and fall of her chest. She was alive... just unconscious.

Relief tugged at the corner of his lips, and he smiled faintly. "We won..." The words had barely left him before his throat burned sharply. A sudden, violent cough tore from his chest. He looked down at his hand... thick, dark blood dripped from his palm.

He frowned bitterly. "M-Maybe I should check into a hospital... later," he muttered, forcing out a sigh. His eyes scanned the chamber. The only way out was the rope he had used to descend earlier. If he wanted to leave, he would have to climb back up... carrying her.

Leo tore a strip from his ruined clothes, binding her tightly to his back. He secured her arms and legs around him like a makeshift piggyback, tying the fabric to hold her weight in place.

"Argh..."

Groaning, he pushed himself to his feet.

His legs trembled violently under the strain, veins bulging painfully along his calves and thighs.

The strain that they were put on... was hurting him still.

Leo winced, his face twisted in agony... Step by step, he carried her toward the rope.

"That’s... long," Leo muttered bitterly as he finally reached the base of the climb, staring up at the dizzying height of the floor above.

He tightened his grip on the rope, but before pulling himself up, he checked her again—securing her hands and legs around him, tying them even tighter so she wouldn’t slip when he climbed.

Then, gritting his teeth, he began. Slowly, hand over hand, Leo pulled them upward. His legs twitched with pain, his muscles screaming, yet he endured, climbing higher despite the strain.

"Just a little more..." he muttered between ragged breaths, his tone strained, groaning as he reached halfway up the rope.

That was when it happened.

The rope below him jerked violently, a sudden tug that nearly pulled him off balance. Leo’s eyes widened. He looked down—

And froze.

Dracula.... Or what was left of him. His skull smashed, half of his face mangled beyond recognition, yet his eyes still glowed with that same dangerous crimson.

His hands gripped the rope, his torso—what little remained—hauling itself upward. The rest of his body was gone, but still... he climbed?

"SHIT!! WHY WON’T YOU JUST DIE ALREADY?!!" Leo roared, shaking the rope desperately. But every movement made his own grip falter. His body trembled under the strain, and instead of falling, Dracula only climbed faster, dragging himself upward like some horror out of a nightmare.

Leo’s fingers burned, the rope biting into his skin. He gritted his teeth, extending one hand higher, then another, forcing himself to climb faster and faster.

Below, Dracula ascended, his half-destroyed body scraping against the rope.

A shiver ran down Leo’s spine.

"Little closer... little closer..." he muttered to himself, desperation pushing him forward. He dragged himself upward, muscles screaming, every nerve on fire... until finally, with one last pull, he reached the floor above.

Thud!

Leo’s hand slammed against the floor, his trembling face reddened by blood as he pushed himself up, trying desperately to climb out when—

Thud!

Dracula’s cold hand clamped tightly around his leg. Leo flinched, snapping his gaze back. Dracula’s ruined face was already starting to mend, grotesque flesh stitching itself back together. His lips moved slowly, voice rasping through broken teeth. "Hah... Hahha... Mon..." he muttered something inaudible.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!!" Leo cursed, thrashing his leg wildly. He kicked against the grip, but his strength was failing, his limbs quivering with exhaustion. The rope beside them strained under the struggle, fibers snapping one by one, creaking dangerously as if ready to break.

Leo’s eyes widened in panic. He gritted his teeth and roared, "Come on!!" His chest expanded as he inhaled, desperate to use his technique—

"Cough! Cough!"

He choked, spitting sticky blood. His body betrayed him. His technique refused to answer.

Behind him, Dracula’s voice crawled up from the pit like a curse. "Come... with... me..." The sound was guttural, echoing through the chamber.

Leo’s face turned pale. His arms shook violently, his grip slipping from the edge. He could feel himself falling, pulled into the abyss along with Dracula when—

"Caught you!!"

Leo’s eyes widened in shock. Lifting up, he saw... Ophis!