CHAPTER 80: THE VISCOUNT’S LAST DEFENSE

Corven didn’t want to waste time, Archivist was still vaguely protecting him from the sun, but when it runs out, he’ll be stuck in that city for a while.The heat was already brushing against his skin through the weakening protection, a constant reminder that every second counted.

"I’ve drawn quite a bit of attention..." he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. The faint soreness in his voice was half from frustration, half from the strain of keeping his powers steady. "I can’t exactly just undo all my fear mongering now."

And all his thoughts went to one thing, something that will both benefit him but will take a bit of confidence.It was reckless, dangerous even — but it would cement what the city now whispered about him.

Fully own the fact that he’s now quite literally a terrifying legend.

A vampire that can roam in the sun.

FWOOSH.

He flapped his wings, propelling himself upward to the sky, and the citizens saw it. The sudden gust rattled signs and sent dust swirling in the streets below.

A blazing silhouette in the sky, the crimson eyes visible through the flames, striking fear across the city itself.

"W-what the hell is that thing!?"

"It came from the slave hub!?"

Most citizens had one thought when Corven ascended, that this was karma, that their acceptance of their city’s corruption caused this beast to arrive at their city.

But in truth? They were just unlucky that they took the wrong family.

"Fire!" a voice rang out from afar, near the middle of the city.

A huge towering castle, one equipped with multiple trebuchet’s, ballista’s and even mages patrolling the battlements. The air near it shimmered faintly with heat and magic from its many defenses.

The moment the order was barked out.

FWOOSH.

All three fired out, hurling balls of fire at Corven. The projectiles left blazing trails that streaked through the air like burning comets.

"Seriously?" Corven grumbled.

He couldn’t dodge the attacks, not because he was unable to, but because dodging it would mean the attacks would instead land on the slaves, and that means harming the child he came to protect.

[Sanguine Manipulation 10x]

Ten tendrils of blood unleashed from his back, all propelling towards the projectiles, he wanted to stop them as efficiently as possible. The air vibrated with the crack of impact as blood met fire.

"Second line!" the voice rang out again.

It came from a commander in the castle, a lion etching embedded on his steel chestplate, he had golden hair, with dark eyes, an eyepatch covering the other. His voice was deep, carrying the authority of someone used to being obeyed.

"Ready! Fire!"

He yelled out again, a second batch of projectiles being unleashed. The sky flashed again as more fire lit the air.

The slaver’s communication scroll was the reason for their prepared counterattack; they opted to increase the defense on the castle itself.

Letting the communication scroll serve as a chance to fortify rather than save the person who sent the message.

An act of self-preservation.

But even then, the second batch of projectiles stood no chance, the tendrils of blood slicing and cleaving through the attacks.

When a tendril falls, another one replaces it. The rhythm of the strikes was almost mechanical — relentless.

’I need to take them out before they fire again.’

But before Corven could think, a sudden huge casting circle appeared below and above him, the circle shifting. The patterns inside moved like gears locking into place.

’Are they planning an orbital strike!?’

Corven thought to himself, there was no way he could block it, sure he can survive it, but for blocking it? That was impossible.

There was no way to avoid casualties when its cast. The mana pressure alone was already making the air heavy.

’Archivist!’He yelled out in his mind, and his class responded.

It immediately detected a group of mages that gathered, words floating around them. The syllables burned faintly in the air, pulsing with unstable energy.

"Lumos!"

Corven yelled out, his class responding to his verbal command, disabling the orbital spell.

CRASH.

The two casting circles cracked like glass, the remains of mana drifting in the air.

"What’s going on!? I ordered you to fire it!" the commander back in the castle shouted, confused at why their ace in the sleeve didn’t work.

The mages yelled out, as bewildered as him. "Something interrupted with the flow of our mana!"

"Damn it all!"

And that was the last word he could mutter before Corven descended.

CRACK.

He flew fast, kicking him straight in the chest as he landed on the battlements itself. The impact shook the nearby stone.

"Guh—!" the commander grunted, spitting blood from his mouth.

CRASH.

He was immediately sent flying, leaving a crater on the walls of the castle from where he landed, a clear warning to what will happen to the rest.

"B-Breach!" one mage yelled out, preparing a lightning spell in his hand. Sparks danced wildly as the spell charged.

Corven was a bit taken aback at the new style of combat, ever since he arrived in this world all he saw was shadow, blood, and raw power when it came to combat.

But now that he was in a different city, he could see how humans relied on a different magic system than vampires do.

’This world is more diverse than I thought.’

He could almost feel the difference in the mana around him, sharper and more refined compared to the raw, feral energy of vampire magic. Each city, each region, seemed to have its own signature in the way power flowed — and here, it felt like a blade hidden in silk.

CRACKLE.

A stream of lightning shot out, mimicking the properties of light.

"Crumble!"

[Bloodborne Charm Activated]

The stream of lightning immediately dissipated, the group of mages incapacitated immediately by the verbal command. Their staves clattered to the stone floor.

Corven’s abrupt evolution enhances his already effective persuasion abilities.

"Fire!" another voice rang out, this time from inside the castle itself.

And this time from small kill holes.

Dozens of arrows covered the sky, all aimed at Corven. The hiss of their flight filled the air.

’This place is ridiculously defended!’

[Sanguine Manipulation]

A single string of blood emerged from his palm, acting like a thin whip.

CRACK.

A single flick of his wrist and it broke the speed of sound, intercepting all the arrows that wanted to take him down. Splinters and arrowheads rained harmlessly to the ground.

"He-He’s a beast!"

"Fall back!"

"Send in the griffin rider!" the commander from inside the castle this time yelled out.

’A what!?’ Corven thought to himself, before another pest arrived.

’How much budget does this city have when it comes to defenses!?’

A sudden huge figure arrived in the sky, and just like its name, it was a griffin, with a rider at the top. Its wingspan cast a long shadow over the battlefield.

A simple name for a simple elite force.

But before it could even manage to get near Corven.BANG.

A familiar sound cracked in the air, Corven could see the bullet travelling in real time as it struck the side of the Griffin.

’Those three?’

He looked downward, and there they were, the three naive adventurers, this time outside the gate.

Fighting a horde of guards. The clash of steel rang loud even from his height.

It seems like they wanted to help Corven overthrow the corrupted viscount.

CLANG.

The tank blocked a swordstrike that was aimed for the gunman, almost taking him out. "Nice cover!"

He yelled out.

"Don’t get distracted!"

The elven priest this time shouted, casting thorny vines to emerge and cover the battlefield around them.

’I never expected to see something like this... it’s as if I’m watching a tabletop campaign happen in real life, and me being a random side character in their story...’

Corven shook his head. ’No, let’s not afford to get distracted.’

He turned his focus back at the castle, the griffin rider was incapacitated now, the mount and its rider crashed on the ground, leaving a crater.

For such an elite force, they were taken down quite easily.

’I need to find the viscount and make them stand down...’

Corven surveyed the castle from the outside, looking for unique blood signatures, and there it was, in the middle of the castle, surprisingly just at the front entrance on the middle floor.

The viscount was in his throne room.

And with him came more blood signatures, his elite guard aimed to protect him, but Corven could smell the fear within them.

’This won’t be a problem.’

CRASH.

He prepared his descent, gliding down at top speeds and crashing straight through the front entrance.

Sending the wooden large doors flying from his entrance.

"I came to bargain!" Corven barked, hovering in the air to make sure those who saw him would tremble in fear.

Because after all.

Fear is the best bargaining chip.