Chapter 99: The Advancing Blood Marquess

Lestat wore a sneer on his face. This sacred relic of the blood kin possessed terrifying power, though every use first required him to drink his fill of blood essence, an extremely troublesome affair. Yet once its force was unleashed, it was enough to inspire dread and awe.

He was in the midst of controlling the Blood Phantom Magic Mirror when, without warning, a figure appeared not far to his side. An invisible force rushed at him head-on, pressing down upon his body.

The crushing might was like ten thousand pounds falling from the sky. His body slammed into the ground with a thunderous crash, dust and debris exploding outward.

Number Eleven hovered in midair, clutching the Sprout Staff. It had been she who had just used her instant movement skill to ambush Lestat, striking him at the perfect moment and dealing a grievous blow to this blood kin marquis.

“Beautifully done, Elwynn. Hurry and snatch the mirror from his hand,” Lin Xiao called out, taking advantage of a rare opening in the midst of his own battle.

Above him, Stephan circled and seized the chance, bringing his greatsword down in a savage cleave that drove Lin Xiao back step by step, yet still could not break through his defense.

A weapon block that had reached Level Two was still not something his strength could shatter. Did he think Wu Dong Cang Qiong was a joke?

Thirty years east of the river, thirty years... apologies, wrong stage.

Number Eleven vanished again in an instant, thrusting the Sprout Staff toward Lestat, intent on seizing the Blood Phantom Magic Mirror from his grasp.

Unexpectedly, a thick layer of blood light spread outward, forming a crimson shield that blocked her attack.

“Damn girl, so you’re a witch after all, and an intermediate one at that. I underestimated you. But this is where it ends. Beneath the radiance of my clan’s sacred relic, all white sorcery is nothing but a paper tiger.”

Lestat staggered to his feet, his face bruised and swollen, yet his aura remained undiminished. The round mirror in his hand unleashed a dense blood glow, scarlet as flame and brilliant as sunset clouds.

Lin Xiao could not help feeling a chill. Truly worthy of a sacred relic, capable of both offense and defense, an integrated killing tool, and with such bizarre methods to top it off. They were in danger now.

Number Eleven refused to believe it. She swung the Sprout Staff with force, launching one mental assault after another, trying to tear apart the blood-colored barrier.

Each strike sent the barrier into violent tremors, splitting it with countless cracks, but in the next instant more blood light would fly from the mirror and swiftly mend the shield.

“Useless. My clan’s Blood Phantom Magic Mirror has absorbed the blood of tens of thousands. Their vital essence has transformed into blood fiends. With your strength, you won’t budge it an inch.

Now then, one of the blood shadows has had its fill. It’s time for you to taste the agony of being pierced through by a bloodthirsty phantom.

Rest assured, both of you are superhumans. I won’t drain all your blood, only half. Then I’ll take you back and raise you slowly, so you can keep providing us with blood.”

Lestat laughed aloud, muttering under his breath. One of the blood shadows that had been attacking the young werewolf on the other side soared up and shot toward Number Eleven at great speed, diving straight at her.

Just as the blood shadow was about to strike her body, she vanished from where she stood and appeared on the other side of the field, staring at the shadow with lingering fear.

Number Eleven could sense the strange and sinister power contained within that blood shadow. Once it invaded the body, the consequences would be dire indeed; she might even die.

“Instant movement, is it? Let me see how much magic you have to spare for it.”

Lestat recognized Number Eleven’s ability. Having suffered a setback earlier, he was forced to grow wary.

He pointed a finger. The blood shadow circled once in place, then flew at Number Eleven again, the two of them turning the battlefield into a game of cat and mouse.

“Stephan, if you truly mean to be my enemy and continue in your delusion, then don’t blame me for being merciless.”

With a fierce shout, Lin Xiao swung his axe and forced Stephan back.

The situation was highly unfavorable. Number Eleven’s magic power was naturally not inexhaustible. If this dragged on, even if she avoided being struck by the blood shadows, she would still be captured once her magic was depleted.

Stephan gave no reply. He shot up into the air, then dove again. A thin veil of blood light stretched and warped, extending his greatsword to more than three meters in length. With a shrill hiss, it cut through the air in a sweeping arc.

Seeing that the man was bent on obstinacy and had even brought out his trump card, Lin Xiao likewise stopped holding back. Magic power surged, and the enchanted flames on his battle axe suddenly went out.

Thunderlight instantly flooded the axe, making it blaze with flickering lightning, as though a storm battle-axe had descended upon the world.

The blood-red greatsword came hacking down. Lin Xiao raised the thunder-wreathed axe and swept upward. Sword and axe collided; the thunderlight easily tore through the blood glow, slicing the greatsword apart as though it were cheese.

Stephan froze slightly. Just as he was about to beat his wings and retreat, a gigantic demon hand seized him brutally and smashed him hard into the ground.

A deafening boom rang out. Stephan was struck so hard he saw stars. He still tried to struggle to his feet and continue fighting, when a thunder-lit battle axe was pressed against his throat.

“Stop. Have your blood shadows cease their attack, or the Duke of Caren will have no heir.”

Lin Xiao shouted coldly. Lestat was stunned; he had never imagined that Stephan, the one in whom he had placed such high hopes, would be defeated so quickly and taken hostage.

The blood shadow that had been chasing Number Eleven stopped in place, but the ones attacking the young werewolves on the other side still continued their relentless assault, draining their blood essence.

“I told you to stop. Are you deaf?”

Lin Xiao roared in anger, pushing the axe forward. It sliced through Stephan’s skin; blood flowed, only to be seared away by the lightning, releasing a pungent stench of iron.

“Stop? Why should I stop? You have a hostage in hand—do you think I have none?”

As he spoke, Lestat waved his hand. Two blood shadows, almost fully solid, reached out and grabbed a slightly shorter werewolf, carrying him over to his side. It was Michael in werewolf form.

“Michael!”

Number Eleven screamed and immediately activated instant movement, rushing forward to rescue Michael. At that moment, five blood shadows all fell back into defense, surrounding Lestat so completely that not even water could leak through.

“All right, as you can see, you have a hostage in hand, and I have a hostage in hand. Then let us follow the medieval principle of prisoner exchange and trade hostages, shall we?”

Lestat said smugly. After centuries of survival, he had long since become cunning and ruthless. The moment the situation turned against him, he promptly seized Michael as a hostage. His sharpness of eye was comparable to that of the most shrewd politicians.

Lin Xiao said nothing. He turned to look. A group of sturdy young werewolves had all collapsed to the ground, unconscious. As strong as they were, they had been drained nearly to death. That alone showed just how wicked and uncanny these bloodthirsty shadows truly were.

He was not a fool. Once hostages were exchanged, Lestat would certainly manipulate the blood shadows to attack them. By then, both he and Number Eleven would be hollowed out from within and meet a miserable end.

Seeing that Lin Xiao did not answer, Lestat knew perfectly well what he was thinking, and his expression turned strangely sinister.

“What, you think that if we don’t exchange hostages, I won’t dare attack you? Let me tell you this: whether or not you agree to exchange hostages, I will seize you and imprison you all the same.

A superhuman and an intermediate witch—your blood is enough to carry me into the rank of blood kin duke. With the Blood Phantom Magic Mirror in my hand, do you really think I would care about this brat’s little life?”

Lin Xiao and Stephan’s expressions changed at the same time. The former understood that Lestat intended to tear off all pretense, while the latter could hardly believe what he had just heard.

What had he heard?

Lestat intended to abandon him, caring nothing at all for his life or death in pursuit of his own interests.

At that moment he suddenly understood. The other man had incited him to seek revenge not to avenge Damont at all, but for his own benefit—for the sake of capturing Bayers and thereby stepping into the realm of the blood kin duke.

“Young Master Stephan, do you know what I hate most? It’s your old and useless father, who gives me orders as if I were merely his subordinate.

Ha, how laughable. We blood kin possess eternal and undying lives, yet we must bow and scrape, living like dogs at the beck and call of others. What a travesty.

So please, die.

Someday, I will stand properly before that incapable old man and tell him: I, Lestat, am not a dog. I am a blood kin duke! My destiny is mine alone, and no one may command it—even if that one is God.”