Facing an Ancient God for a Year-Chapter 1331 - 1329: Night Visit to the Vampire (4)

Within the circular hall, the Bloodline Clan once again displayed their elegance; they showed no displeasure at the attendees’ tardy arrival.

All eyes were fixed on the patch of thick, coagulated blood spreading from the seat down to their feet, as silence descended like death itself.

Unbothered by the quiet, Fu Qian smiled and nodded, openly displaying the vampire’s heart in his hand for all to observe.

In most legends, the Bloodline Clan possesses far greater vitality than mortals.

Unless utterly destroyed, killing them is extremely challenging, especially when it comes to their heart—rumored to allow rapid regeneration as long as it remains intact.

But of course, that doesn’t apply to the one in his hand.

...

Until moments ago, the one seated here, laying this clever trap, was clearly a key figure among this noble race.

The title of Elder speaks volumes in itself.

The feedback from Fu Qian’s perception confirmed the same.

Fu Qian was absolutely certain that, compared to Yack, the Elder’s vitality alone was overwhelmingly more dominant.

Not a single member among the nearly twenty vampires present in the hall could compare.

Judging by ranking, the Elder was at least above the level of Divine Envoy.

In Fu Qian’s view, for such a languid and subdued bloodline, an existence of this magnitude was far from healthy.

The meeting’s atmosphere moments ago had been distinctly tepid.

They even went so far as to obstruct special guest invitees, later extending a false invitation only to lock the doors and slaughter them.

The "Hazy Saw" method used earlier was undeniably an intriguing form of killing. Under the Elder’s personal command, it was traceless, impervious, and utterly destructive.

The doors—sealed immediately—had a confining effect similar to the prison earlier, ensuring there was no escape.

Combined with the silent witness of numerous vampires, Fu Qian was essentially walking into a slaughterhouse, entirely at the mercy of the Elder’s calculated confusion.

But the Elder had clearly underestimated Fu Qian’s determination as a "friendly collaborator."

Fu Qian’s counterattack was straightforward: he stepped forward, fully activating his Mythical Form and transforming into the Abandonment King.

Even so, under the nearly divine protection of Stars’ Laws, handling an Elder-level Divine Envoy in a short time was no easy feat. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

Considering the Abandonment King’s energy expenditure, a prolonged battle was evidently not an option.

Thus, Fu Qian simultaneously triggered Eternal Clarity Mind.

Its ability to expel mysteries had already been tested when treating Miss Winslow, proving effective even against Stars’ Laws.

Although brief—lasting merely a moment—the expulsion would even affect Fu Qian himself within that instant.

But sometimes, a moment is all that’s needed.

The wise Elder, a Fated Son of Heaven, had every possible advantage: favorable terrain, cooperative forces, even plenty of time to prepare.

Yet still, he lacked one thing compared to Fu Qian—twenty years of mortal experience.

A professional always plays to their strengths while avoiding weaknesses.

As it turned out, both the Laws and the Abandonment King nearly simultaneously restored themselves.

Unfortunately for the Elder: while his body recovered, his consciousness did not.

Fu Qian’s full-powered attack pierced the Elder’s chest, seizing the throbbing heart within.

What followed was a Visceral Critical Strike personally executed by the Abandonment King, layered with Calamity Authority, clashing head-on against the full force of the Stars’ protection.

The final result: the Elder, their body and existence reduced to a mere trace, was utterly annihilated.

Neither physical form nor the faintest spark of life remained in the heart.

The Stars had lost—they failed to shield their Godson.

But the Bloodline Clan had not suffered defeat; after a brief moment of shock, the atmosphere of dialogue within the hall suddenly came alive.

...

"Herbert?"

The first to shift their gaze from the scattered remains was a woman wearing a hat.

Aside from her striking appearance, her excessively large stature was the most notable feature.

Even compared to all the men present, she loomed larger than them all.

Eyes the size of Miss Jane Winslow’s during her illness sat perfectly upon this face, with no trace of incongruity.

And now, those massive eyes were scanning Fu Qian from head to toe.

"Gulad, Herbert Gulad."

Fu Qian smiled cordially, borrowing the surname of a certain ancient family.

"Dark Moon Apostle?"

The female vampire offered no confirmation, instead continuing her question.

"Dark Moon First Apostle."

"Also seventh?"

"Also seventh."

Fu Qian wasn’t surprised that this eccentric clan even knew that detail; as he answered, he silently lamented how thoroughly the Sect had been infiltrated.

"Heh... You’ve caused us quite some trouble, as it seems we’ll now need to round up the remaining five Apostles."

Fu Qian’s honesty appeared to resonate, prompting a chuckle from the female vampire, affirming the recent chaos the Sect had brought upon them.

"Bally, why are you wasting words with him? Get on with it and let’s kill him together!"

Unfortunately, not everyone shared such a conversational attitude—soon, another woman’s voice rang out coldly.

"Saphar’s heart is still in his hand."

So the Elder’s name was Saphar?

Fu Qian didn’t mind this diversity of opinion; with an air of contemplation, he raised the heart in his grasp.

"Elder Saphar? Is that his name?"

"...How could it be! Elder is merely a clan designation."

Even the snarling second woman, faced with Fu Qian’s inquiry, appeared momentarily at a loss.

"So his earlier self-introduction didn’t even bother to reveal his true name?"

At those words, the smile on the Dark Moon Apostle’s face instantly vanished, replaced by an unmistakable annoyance.

"Such insolence—it’s a shame he was slain too easily!"

...

Too easily? Was that truly the case?

It was clear these remarks sparked a strong reaction, drawing several eyes back to the blood-slick floor, silent and conflicted.

"It’s only because Saphar’s heart is in his hand... You may take your chance as you wish."

The woman named Bally finally responded to the earlier call for action, releasing a disdainful snort.

"Are you afraid?"

The second woman, overwhelmed by anger and surprise, bared the faint glimmer of sharp teeth, killing intent against perceived betrayal written all over her expression.

"With so many of us here, no matter how unusual his methods, could he possibly slaughter us all?"

"He could certainly handle at least the one making such suggestions."

Lady Bally remained unmoved, flexing her clawed right hand.

The sharp fingertips bore blood-colored patterns of a bizarre, alluring beauty, spiraling outward like ornamental nail art.

"And a reminder—Saphar is entirely and completely dead. Even if we retrieve the heart, it’s nothing but a lump of rotten flesh."

You...

The impact of her final remark was undeniably heavy.

While many had vaguely suspected it, the blunt confirmation that Saphar—the strongest among them—had been instantly obliterated, leaving behind not even a glimmer of resurrection, was devastating.

As her gaze swept over the others, seeking consensus, the second woman failed to meet a single exchanged glance.

"Yack."

Still unwilling to concede, she hesitated briefly before summoning a name aloud.

"Tell them what you told me earlier, share it again."

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