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Chapter 45: A Knight’s Lance Like a Vicious Dragon from Beyond the Heavens
🕑 Added 2025-01-09 21:30:16 +0000 UTCAmong Charlot Mecklenburg's adventurers, there were no Transcendents. A Fourth-Tier Knight like Winterburn, intent on fleeing, was far beyond the reach of ordinary pursuers.
Besides, if Winterburn ran, he ran. By the time he returned with reinforcements, Charlot would have long disappeared without a trace.
Just as Charlot was wrapping things up and preparing to continue fooling his band of adventurers, a sharp whistling sound pierced through the air. A knight’s lance, like a vicious dragon descending from the heavens, struck with immense force, impaling Winterburn’s body. The lance carried on with unstoppable momentum, dragging the Fourth-Tier Knight several dozen steps before pinning him to the ground.
Witnessing this, a chill surged through Charlot’s heart. The strength of the person who had made this move was beyond anything he had ever encountered.
If this individual was an enemy, even if all 100-plus adventurers fought to the death by Charlot’s side, the outcome would likely still be a one-sided slaughter.
The adventurers were also stunned. Though they were mere low-level adventurers, their experience surviving in the wild and constant skirmishes meant they had sharp instincts. Many exclaimed, “A high-level Transcendent!”
Charlot took a deep breath. He understood there was no use in hiding or running. With a vampiric axe in one hand and a magical rapier in the other, he strode forward boldly and shouted, “Who’s there?”
A calm, steady voice responded, “This time, the Empire’s plans cannot afford any mistakes. It’s fortunate I arrived in time; otherwise, letting this man escape and leak the Empire’s grand designs would have made you a criminal.”
“State your name and rank, or I’ll file a formal complaint with the War Office.”
These words were spoken in Byron’s tongue. While most of the adventurers didn’t understand Byronese, many recognized the language due to the historical ties between Fars and Byron, two of the Old Continent’s five great empires. This realization filled many of them with dread—they had just been posing as Byronese spies.
Now, they were faced with a real Byronese operative!
Everyone could imagine the likely outcome.
Charlot silently prayed, Thank the goddess, thank Sheffield University, thank higher education. In flawlessly enunciated Byronese, he replied, “Apologies, I am currently on a classified mission and cannot reveal my identity.”
Charlot Mecklenburg was fluent in seven languages, including Byronese. His response was impeccable, devoid of any accent that might betray him as a Fars native.
The fundamental difference between Charlot and these adventurers was that he had genuinely received the highest level of imperial education.
From the shadows emerged a tall, strikingly handsome middle-aged man flanked by two followers. His pale skin, golden hair, and faintly blood-red eyes marked him unmistakably as a vampire. With an approving tone, he said, “Impressive. You don’t compromise your principles for authority. I might consider holding off on that complaint.”
“You’re using Bloodfire Qi! Are you of the Adonis Clan?”
Charlot breathed a sigh of relief and replied, “Yes!” Simultaneously, he hurled his Vampiric Rapier, striking Winterburn’s already lifeless body. He then shouted, “I need all of you to act together and deliver the final blow to these Fars men!”
“To those willing, I shall consider you one of my own.”
“To those unwilling, I’m afraid... apologies are in order.”
“Sorry! But you know too much.”
The mysterious Byronese vampire glanced over the group of adventurers, exuding an oppressive aura as heavy as a mountain. It felt as though an ancient beast was staring down a group of rabbits, paralyzing them with fear.
The adventurers exchanged uneasy looks before some made the prudent choice. One member stabbed a knife into a Fierce Horse Detective Agency operative.
Charlot’s strategy, blunt as it was, mirrored the “pledge of loyalty” seen in Water Margin. The adventurers, divided into over ten small groups, lacked cohesion and could easily abandon him at any time.
By leveraging the mysterious Byronese high-level Transcendent’s aura, Charlot forced them to provide their “pledge of loyalty.” This act significantly bolstered the group’s unity and his personal authority. It also conveniently explained why a supposed “Byronese spy” had a group of Fars low-level adventurers with him.
Charlot’s proficiency in Bloodfire Qi and fluency in Byronese allowed him to convincingly pose as a Byronese vampire. The adventurers, who couldn’t even speak Byronese, had no hope of pretending to be vampires. They could only be seen as his “blood thralls,” a time-honored tradition among Byronese vampires.
Under the mysterious Byronese vampire’s “terrifying pressure,” all 100-plus adventurers, whether willing or not, begrudgingly stepped forward and stabbed the seven Fierce Horse operatives with daggers, swords, or hammers—even the already-dead Addison, Winterburn, and two others killed in earlier skirmishes were not spared.
The three surviving Fierce Horse operatives, however, suffered the most gruesome deaths.
Charlot pulled his Vampiric Rapier from Winterburn’s body and stowed it in his left arm. He then extracted the knight’s lance and respectfully handed it to the mysterious Byronese vampire. Finally, he ordered the group to search the dead operatives’ bodies.
The search yielded cash totaling seven écus, with five écus coming from Addison—a reasonable find, as only someone on the run would carry their entire fortune.
Charlot appraised the equipment from the seven operatives, converted it into coin value, and distributed the sum alongside the cash among the adventurers.
After imposing fear, he offered rewards—ensuring the adventurers' loyalty.
Such a balanced approach was common sense back on Earth.
The adventurers visibly relaxed, the tension easing somewhat.
The tall, handsome Byronese vampire nodded slightly, his face softening into a smile. Clearly impressed, he said, “Well done. You exhibit the demeanor of a true Byronese soldier.”
“I am Lord Leo. Like you, I am entrusted with a special mission. I hereby requisition you and your men. State your name.”
Charlot sighed in relief and replied, “Kainan. You may call me Kainan.”
Lord Leo casually touched the knight’s lance, transforming it into a rapier, which he elegantly sheathed at his waist.
Charlot, recently introduced to such morphing weapons, couldn’t help but exclaim, “Shanlens’ Spear? You’re from the Arthur Clan?!”
Lord Leo’s knightly lance was even more magnificent than Louis Simy’s, with an estimated value of at least 1,500 gold écus.
The Adonis Clan was one of the Six Kingly Clans, but the Arthur Clan was one of the Three Imperial Clans, whose status overshadowed all other vampires.
Lord Leo nodded slightly, his arrogance expertly concealed, and said, “Grand Duke Ferdinand of the Behemoth Principality is heading to Strasbourg to meet Emperor Julius VI. I require his route and detailed intelligence.”
“Kainan, you entered Fars before me.”
“Do you have any information to share?”
Charlot was startled, wondering, What do these Byronese intend to do with Grand Duke Ferdinand’s route to Strasbourg? He replied casually, “I was just heading to Machubi. It’s only 200 kilometers from Strasbourg, and I heard the Grand Duke may pass through this ancient orc stronghold’s ruins.”
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