The Adventurer's Mission Log

Chapter 22 The Earl

While Tenor hesitated, Simon turned and shot a hidden arrow from his sleeve.

Twenty paces away in the bushes, a short-horned beast was shot through the throat before it could even let out a scream, its body falling into the weeds.

"...They're Lesser Horned Beasts. The Beastman Chapter often sends them out as scouts," Simon said seriously. "Discovering them means the Beastman Chapter is very close."

"Let's bypass this town and keep going," Tenor thought quickly. "...Or we can leave a trail to lure the beastmen into the town, and then we can escape."

"Don't even think about it!" the slow, magnetic voice said with a hint of sarcasm. "The animals know the sheepfold has an owner. Without the necessary spikes, these animals won't dare to break into the sheepfold."

You will only be safe if you accept my protection.

"That's not necessarily true. We can handle difficulties, you unclean ones." Simon pushed away the vampire's invitation with extreme resistance. "Tenoll, you must understand that vampires are neither truly alive nor truly dead."

They refused to cross Moor's threshold to be judged, yet they stole the appearance of the living and walked in the sunlight.

Such an existence is a desecration of the natural order. How can you expect a creation that dares not even face death to uphold any vows?

Tenor's wavering heart made a decision. He stepped into the town and found that the edge of the town had been encroached upon by the forest, with vines and moss entwining the outer tiled houses. "Help it! Simon, this is not about trusting it—a vampire is easier to deal with than a bunch of beastmen."

How could he possibly believe in vampires? Putting aside rational suspicion, his body's instincts were also filtering friend from foe. His other half, belonging to the alien race, reminded him that such creations were not allowed to exist and that he should destroy them.

No matter how powerful a vampire is, he is still a lone wolf, while the beastmen, though weak, number in the hundreds or thousands.

Even if the vampires are so powerful that they despair, if they are lucky, Tenor can hold them back and allow Simon to strike the vampire with some kind of counter, thus eliminating him.

But what about the Beastmen? Kill one group, and another will come; once surrounded, there's no chance of survival.

Even if they can kill dozens or hundreds of unicorns, they will eventually die from exhaustion or a sneak attack.

"I don't like your tone," the vampire protested, "but you made the right choice."

Sir Heinrich will assure you of your safety; at Midnight Castle, no unauthorized hostility can harm you.” It then turned to Simon, advising him:

"Man, I know your narrow-mindedness makes it difficult for you to cast aside your prejudices. Would you rather believe a savage and foolish beast than heed the assurances of a nobleman?"

"The nobles' guarantees are worthless." Simon made no attempt to hide his contempt. As a seasoned adventurer, he had been swindled by nobles dozens, if not hundreds, of times.

"Sir Heinrich is different from them," the vampire coaxed. "Your companions have already accepted my terms, and I could easily let you be torn to pieces by beasts, but I still urge you, because I want you to make a choice with dignity..."

"Stop wasting your breath, vampire." Simon followed Tenor into the town; he couldn't let his companion venture out alone. The two headed towards the castle together. "Everything is as you wish, but don't forget, Mor is watching you!"

The vampire sneered upon hearing this, but said nothing more.

Night fell quickly, and Tenor was unsure if there was any magical influence.

Despite his unfortunate journey to a trap, a stroke of luck also occurred—he noticed a group of inferior beasts lingering on the edge of the town, but did not venture further in.

The castle is built on a high point, seemingly overlooking the entire forest.

The city gates were wide open, the roads were covered with moss and dust, the corridors were filled with cobwebs, and the damp places were covered with mold.

Tenor noticed the portraits of vampires on the walls of the hall—all tall, thin, red-eyed men, with the most prominent one hanging above the main seat.

The red-eyed figure in the painting stares at the viewer outside the frame. In his right hand, he holds a longsword that has just been bathed in blood, and on the ring finger of his left hand, he wears a family heirloom ring with a gemstone as deep as congealed blood.

The color evoked not jewels, but something older and hungrier.

The smile on the man's lips in the painting is both a composure toward power and an anticipation of the next meal—and the two have never been separate in him.

Even though it was just a portrait, it sent chills down the spines of the two living people.

Heinrich was probably observing Ternor, and at this moment, he was explaining to his visitor like a hospitable host:

"This is my grandfather, Vlad von Castanin, the patriarch of my clan, the rightful lord of Sylvania, and the greatest elector of the Sigmar Empire."

"My bloodline is older than any of the nobles you know." His tone was filled with an arrogant pride.

"Elector?" Simon couldn't help but wonder. The Empire didn't have such a position. Combining the similar nobility system between vampires and Ronanians, it sounded like the wild fantasy of the Ronan barbarians—but the Empire's crown was not something that barbarians could covet.

"That was a long time ago, when I was young..." Heinrich said with a sigh, as if lamenting the changes that had taken place over the years.

Tenor felt a chill run down his spine—he remembered Reginald saying, "The Cataclysm caused some things from another world to enter this dimension."

If vampires were brought to this world due to a cataclysmic event... they have existed for three thousand years.

Perhaps... it's better to be cornered by beastmen than to disturb an ancient vampire?

The roar of a beast grew louder as it approached. Tenor turned around at the sound and saw an extremely majestic, bronze-clad horned beast leading its elite warriors, following the scent of humans.

"You'd better hurry up, those chased wild dogs aren't afraid to break into an unclaimed sheepfold." Heinrich's words carried the disdain of a civilized man for savages, and his tone remained unchanged despite the intrusion of the unicorn champion. He certainly had the right to look down on the beastmen; he was a descendant of the von Karstein family.

Unlike the carefree vampires, Tenor and Simon were suddenly aware of their predicament—either ignore the vampires and perish in a hopeless escape at the hands of the Beastman and the "Shadow Hand" assassins.

Either help the vampire "move the coffin lid" and then die at the vampire's hands.

The only difference is whether you die early or late.

Tenor quickened his pace, following the vampire's guidance as he ascended the spiral staircase.

Running away is certain death, but if they can take advantage of the fight between the vampires and the unicorns, they might still have a chance to escape.

The more chaotic the scene, the higher the chances of survival.

If he had to die, he would rather die at the hands of a vampire than be torn apart by a dishonorable beast.

Simon followed closely behind Tenor in silence, seemingly lost in thought, but he instinctively prepared essential oils and silverware to counteract vampires.

This action did not escape Heinrich's notice, but he remained noncommittal and indifferent.

The castle was cold and damp, but an unusual heat wave swept in from the northeast. It was as if pairs of eyes were hiding in the shadows, and the strange feeling of being watched made Tenor very uncomfortable.

"Ah~ a new guest has arrived," the vampire remarked haughtily, then his tone changed, and he said urgently, "Help me up! Those damned bugs are going to destroy my castle!"

"Fire! Aksha's power is stirring! Someone is casting a spell!" Simon shouted at the same time, and he began chanting a counter-spell, trying to stop the spell—or at least slow it down.

"I understand. Unless I have three legs, this is the fastest I can go!" Tenor ran with his head down.

Simon's face suddenly turned pale, and the incantation stopped.

He lost the magical duel, but through experience and skill, and a bit of luck, he managed to avert the effects of the spell's backlash.

The herd of unicorns had already stormed into the hall, and Tenor circled the spiral staircase up another level, following the vampire's guidance, and rushed into a room that resembled a bedroom.

The dark coffin was chained with silver chains, and its body was covered with runes.

"No one shall be allowed to rise from the dead unless given special permission by More," Simon muttered the dogma, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"But we have no other choice." Tenor smashed the shackles binding the vampire with a single blow, cleared away the runes, and destroyed the ritual array that sealed the vampire.

In an instant, the sky turned completely dark.

Turning his head, Ternor saw that the sky had cracked open, and huge raindrops began to fall.

The storm ripped apart the forgotten town, and the howling hurricane swept through the castle, pushing open the windows, tearing off the curtains, and cleaning up the entire interior.

He saw an unusually bright torch in the northeast, which was surrounded by a deep, humanoid shadow that outlined a physical entity—the Shadowfire Monster, but it was far more powerful than the one he had seen in the tavern.

It must be at least a high-level half-human.

A soft, low sigh drifted from the coffin. "...Two thousand years... Today... finally... I'm free..."

Simon grabbed the stunned Tenor and rushed out the door. Just as they stepped outside, the giant unicorn's long-handled axe whistled as it came crashing down on them.