Chapter 137: Ascension Rite (IV)
"Bat revels, sickly mice sing."
"Bloody Mist veils the sky, shadows overflow."
"Day fears its return—Eternal Night descends."
The Vampire Offspring atop the Stone Pillar continued their eerie chant, their voices deepening over time into wails that echoed through the cavernous depths. Blood seeped into the intricate runes etched across the Stone Platform, awakening the malevolent Rune Array. One by one, the hundreds of Iron Cages scattered throughout the Underground Bastion flared to life, each emitting a crimson pulse that pulsed like a heartbeat.
The bloodlight linked the Offshoot Bodies to Duke Brad, channeling the ancient evil into his form. Power—dark, primal, and insatiable—flowed through the crimson threads, flooding his body with strength.
"Ascension... truly magnificent," Duke Brad murmured, raising his arms as if embracing the immense power surging through him.
He slowly closed his eyes. Though immortal, his Undying Essence required no breath—but he inhaled deeply, savoring the intoxicating scent of blood that thickened the air.
Then, his expression froze.
"Wait."
"I… smell something. An unfamiliar blood."
"Looks like there are still a few cowardly rodents hiding in my castle."
His eyes snapped open—crimson, burning with wrath.
"Come out!"
"You are walking straight into your own death!"
Duke Brad levitated above the platform, his cloak flaring without wind, blood mist swirling around him like a living shroud. This ancient vampire would not allow anyone—no matter who—to disrupt his centuries-long ascension.
Seeing their cover blown, Meizhuolashi, commander of the operation, raised his Bloodstained Greatsword and roared.
"Attack—now!"
Even his usually calm face betrayed emotion—fury, desperation, trembling in his voice. The memories surged: his wife’s final scream, his children’s blood-soaked bodies, the slaughter of thousands of his people, years of hiding, surviving, enduring…
All of it was leading to this moment.
"Kill him!" Meizhuolashi charged forward, his black eyes alight with vengeance.
At the entrance, the Players were thrown into chaos. They hadn’t expected to be discovered so quickly.
[Crimson Duke - Brad Lakanman]
Base Abilities: ???
Challenge Rating: ???
(Extremely Dangerous!)
The red-hued Character Sheet materialized before them—harbinger of death and dread.
But they were elite. After a moment of panic, they rallied, locking into their pre-planned strategy.
"He sees us!"
"True Mage, cast it now!"
"I've got this!"
Charlotte raised her Inlaid Wood Wand. At its tip, vines pulsed with magical energy.
[Misty Step]
As she cast, her invisibility vanished—but in an instant, thick fog erupted from the ground, swallowing the platform in swirling mist.
At the same time, the Minstrel Player “Flying Guitar” drew his bow. The strings trembled, and a haunting melody poured forth—not just music, but a ripple through the Weave of Magic itself. The artistry of his spellcraft was undeniable.
[Fiendfire Spell]
A flickering spirit of flame latched onto the Duke, outlining his silhouette in violet light—clear even through the fog.
The Deputy Leader of the Royal Authority Guild, “Fengyun,” raised his staff.
[Tidal Surge]
A surge of water erupted from the depths, crashing toward the platform—precisely targeting the vampire’s weakness: water wounds.
Meanwhile, multiple Mages and Sorcerers unleashed their spells in rapid succession—Hypnotic Pattern, Rainbow Spray, Enchant Monster—control spells flooding the area like a storm. Then came the onslaught: Scorching Ray, Magic Missile, Fireball—explosions of light, fire, lightning, and force fields erupted from every direction, a dazzling, chaotic barrage aimed at the glowing figure within the fog.
Meanwhile, Monks, Warriors, Paladins, and Barbarians charged into the mist, guided by the Fiendfire’s glow, slashing, hammering, striking at the invisible target.
Steel Tide summoned his newly forged Guardian Mech, unleashing a storm of bullets while raising a massive shield. The machine charged forward—only for the Duke to vanish.
The Crimson Giant Hand formed from Blood Mist, grasping the mech mid-charge. With a sickening crunch, the four-meter-tall armor was crushed like tin. The pilot was crushed inside, his blood splattering into the mist, making it thicker, darker, more alive.
The ruined armor was tossed aside like trash.
"Fresh blood…" Duke Brad’s pale face twisted into a smile—ecstatic, sated.
"Run. Wail. Scream."
"I shall savor every moment."
Amid the whispering hymns of the Vampire Offspring, Brad moved like a predator toying with prey. The Blood Mist danced through the air, hunting, striking, draining. The Players were forced to flee, overwhelmed, desperate.
In mere minutes, over a dozen elite Players fell—each one a veteran, a legend.
"Damn it! Guild Leader’s dead again!"
"How the hell do we fight this?!"
"This boss damage is insane!"
"Can someone give me a Flight Spell? I want to try close range!"
Meshilaf slashed through the mist with his blade, eyes fixed on the sky.
"No… he’s not just fighting. He’s feeding. Growing stronger with every kill."
Meizhuolashi turned to a shadowed corner of the chamber, his black pupils reflecting a flicker of something unnatural.
"Then we stop him before he ascends."
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
