On a tall hybrid warhorse, clad in heavy armor, Aramar gazed from afar at the vast stretch of the demon army’s formation, his brows slightly furrowed, his mind puzzled.

Sigismund… actually gave up the defensive advantage and range amplification of the Scarlet Spire, choosing instead to lead his entire army out for a fair pitched battle?

His original plan was to use “war chariots,” those long-range weapons, to harass the opponent until Sigismund was forced to come out. The harassment had only just begun, yet the other side abandoned defense.

Aramar admitted that Sigismund’s army was overall stronger, but not overwhelmingly so.

In a direct clash, Aramar also had a decent chance of winning.

There was no way Sigismund didn’t know this.

Had the commanding general been replaced? Or was there a trap he was unaware of?

With the intelligence in hand, Aramar considered many possibilities, finally turning his gaze toward Eleanor’s forces.

If there was a hidden trick, the only possible “surprise force” would be that incompetent female vampire.

Even now, she remained stationed far in the rear, coldly watching from the sidelines.

Originally Aramar thought it was personal grievances being carried into the battlefield. Now it seemed… perhaps it was a show for him to see.

“Send word!” Aramar ordered the messenger beside him. “Triple the number of scouts. Watch Eleanor’s forces like a hawk! Any movement at all, report immediately! Until my orders, the front lines hold steady—no advancing!”

At the same time, before the demon army’s formation—

The elite demon soldiers had already formed into attack lines. At the very front were savage beasts in chains, snarling restlessly, their growls interwoven with the clanging of weapons and armor, filling the air with a bloodthirsty desire.

Most striking of all was the formation in the very rear—an army clad in dark blood-red armor: Sigismund’s most powerful core, the Blood Knights!

All of them were at least Gold-ranked half-vampires, some even true vampires with noble titles.

Everything was ready, the arrow drawn on the bowstring.

But the adjutant looked around anxiously—yet nowhere did he find the highest commander, Duke Sigismund, who should be here to rally morale and issue commands!

“Where is my lord? Did any of you see the Duke?!” the adjutant couldn’t help raising his voice, asking the officers and guards nearby, his tone tinged with anxiety.

At such a critical moment, how could the commander be absent?

Just then, a bat flapped in from the direction of the Scarlet Spire, halting before the adjutant.

“The Duke orders that you will command this battle in his stead.”

“Me?!” The adjutant’s pupils shrank, pointing at himself, almost unable to believe his ears. “Where is the Duke himself?”

…

The adjutant’s much-missed Duke Sigismund was at that very moment in the kitchen of the Scarlet Spire.

A slab of unidentifiable meat, coarse in texture, had been roasted briefly over the fire. Sprinkled with a pinch of salt, he bit into it expectantly.

“Pah—!”

Almost instantly, violent physical rejection forced him to spit it out.

It wasn’t even that the taste was unbearably foul, but this vampire body fundamentally repelled ordinary food—it couldn’t digest it at all, simply spitting it out unchanged.

“Right… vampires only drink blood, don’t they…” Lin Jun suddenly remembered that this was part of Piglet’s settings.

Inside a vampire’s headquarters, finding blood was easy. He located a blood container, cautiously tasted a sip.

Smacking his lips, savoring carefully—this was his first time experiencing blood as a vampire.

The feeling… like drinking a sauce thick with rusty iron stench.

“Sigh…” Lin Jun let out a long sigh, utterly disappointed.

So there went his hopes of using this vampire body to taste the world’s delicacies.

Being a vampire wasn’t as enjoyable as imagined.

“What exactly are you trying to do?” Sigismund’s voice echoed again in his mind, suppressed fury behind every word.

“What am I trying to do? I want to eat something tasty!” Lin Jun answered matter-of-factly, his tone full of regret.

But Sigismund clearly wasn’t asking about food. His voice carried suspicion, even a hint of confusion: “You’re not someone sent by Aramar?”

That strange being drawn here through the “Dream” connected to Aramar’s daughter, appearing at this exact deadly moment, when Aramar just happened to launch a full assault…

Putting all that together, Sigismund was almost convinced this intruder was Aramar’s trap!

The goal: lure his army to destruction, then deliver him as a trophy to Aramar.

If so, then only mutual destruction was left for him.

But watching the other party sighing over food, he felt a bit uncertain.

Lin Jun ignored him, digging out sugar cubes and stuffing them in his mouth.

The orders he gave were nonsense, but handing Sigismund over was something he would never do.

Sweet!

Fortunately, the body didn’t reject sweetness.

Hugging the entire sugar jar, he wandered back to the observation platform.

By now, the battlefield below had erupted in full fury.

At first, both sides were cautious—probing with ranged attacks and small squads.

On the human side, Aramar stayed ever wary of a fatal trap.

On the demon side, the adjutant, forced into command, was terrified, not daring to risk bold moves, only choosing the safest defensive tactics.

But as fighting dragged on, Aramar’s keen instincts detected something wrong.

Could it be Sigismund wasn’t personally commanding?

In a decisive battle like this, he would never be absent!

Unless…

A bold thought suddenly flashed into Aramar’s mind.

Could Sigismund himself be in some kind of trouble?

So unfit that… the demon army wasn’t even under his command?

This idea made Aramar’s breathing rough, his heartbeat pounding.

Opportunity!

Whoever was in charge, after these rounds of probing, Aramar had taken their measure.

No Eleanor-level amateur, but merely average—ordinary general material!

Aramar no longer hesitated. Under his deliberate pressure and maneuvering, the humans’ assault suddenly became ferocious. The adjutant on the other side panicked, forced to throw the trump card Blood Knights into the fray to stabilize the collapsing right flank.

“Now! Iron Fir Knights, charge with me!” Aramar roared, finally seizing the long-awaited moment.

Leading the elite Iron Fir Knights himself, he slammed straight into the Blood Knights! Read full story at NoveI★Fire.net

…

Damn, Piglet’s dad is fierce.

Lin Jun lay on the edge of the platform, clicking his tongue in amazement.

Below, Aramar’s Iron Fir Knights charged like a storm. Within minutes, the supposedly mighty Blood Knights were being beaten back, falling into clear disadvantage.

In Lin Jun’s mind, Sigismund watched his carefully honed trump card being crushed, his hard-won legacy collapsing—he was so desperate he almost chose “mutual destruction.”

“Alright, alright, I get it, don’t panic!” Lin Jun muttered, dumping the remaining sugar cubes from the jar into his mouth, chewing twice before reluctantly handing back control of the body.

“Be careful, don’t just die on me, Little Sig!” At the instant of transfer, Lin Jun even kindly reminded him.

“Pah!” The very first thing Sigismund did upon regaining control was spit out the cheap sugar mush in fury, unable to vent his rage. He punched the stone wall beside him, shattering it into a web of cracks!

No time to dwell on the bizarre encounter or that damned intruder. He didn’t even bother to compose himself.

Scarlet light blazed in his eyes, black mist roiling around him as he transformed into a bat, hurtling toward the embattled knights at terrifying speed.

“My lord Duke!” The adjutant, nearly slain and barely holding on, almost wept with relief.

“So you’ve finally shown yourself, damn rat!”

Enemies locked eyes, Aramar’s greatsword clashing head-on with Sigismund’s blood claws!

Lin Jun imagined: if he had been in control, Sigismund’s hand would probably already be flying off…