Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble! Chapter 599: The Language Of Combat

At first, the guards stationed along the periter were terrified.

Every thunderous clash between Joy’s holy axe and Carla’s twin crimson daggers made the earth quake beneath them.

Cracks spread across the ground like lightning veins, chunks of grass and stone were flung into the air, and a shimring wave of pressure rippled outward each ti their weapons collided.

But after the first few minutes of horror, fear slowly turned into sothing else.

Fascination.

None of the guards had ever witnessed a battle like this before. Their initial instinct to run or call for reinforcents vanished as their eyes widened in sheer awe.

"Did you see that!?" One guard whispered, gripping the fence in disbelief as Carla’s crimson eyes flared open.

At that mont, Joy froze mid-swing, her body trembling slightly.

It was as though invisible chains had wrapped around her limbs, pinning her in place.

Her expression twisted in shock as Carla darted forward, moving so fast that her figure blurred into afterimages.

"She’s binding her soul." Another guard gasped. "That’s...That’s high-level magic! I thought that kind of technique went extinct centuries ago!"

In an instant, Carla appeared before Joy and slashed—but Joy burst with radiant light, shattering the power that bound her, her hamr shimring back into an axe.

"Holy smite!" She roared, swinging upward.

A brilliant arc of golden energy carved the air, forcing Carla to leap back and cross her daggers to block.

BOOM!

The impact created a blinding flash, sending waves of light and wind across the clearing.

So guards fell backward from the sheer force.

Yet not a single one turned away.

They were enthralled.

Every strike, every dodge, every counterattack was unlike anything they’d ever seen.

It wasn’t just skill—it was artistry born from war.

Carla moved like a shadow, her daggers flashing like dancing flas, each strike calculated to pierce vital points.

Her vampiric agility allowed her to twist and bend around Joy’s attacks in impossible ways.

Joy, in turn, fought with divine grace and raw might, her swings wide yet perfectly controlled.

Holy runes appeared at her feet with each step, the ground glowing under her—every motion powered by the blessings of the Goddess herself.

"They’re...incredible..." One guard whispered, his voice trembling.

"Top-tier combatants." Another muttered, still clutching his loaf of bread. "Easily two of the strongest people on the continent."

"If either of them turned on us right now, we’d be dead before we could blink."

"Dead, yeah." Another added, biting into his bread with reverent awe. "But what a way to go."

So the guards did the only thing they could—they sat down in a line, quietly munching on the bread Isabelle had given them earlier, and simply watched.

It beca a spectacle.

A holy saintess and a vampire knight, fighting like ancient gods.

Even the won inside the warehouse began to step out one by one, drawn by the noise and trembling ground.

Soon a crowd ford around the battlefield, gasping and whispering in awe as the two figures clashed.

Minutes turned to hours.

One hour passed. Then two.

Neither side relented. Neither yielded. Their weapons clashed again and again, the rhythm almost hypnotic like a furious symphony of steel and power.

By the end, the sun was beginning to set. The once-green grass was now an uneven field of craters and glowing embers of residual magic.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, both won stumbled back from each other.

Their breaths were ragged. Sweat glead on their skin. Their weapons trembled in their hands.

And then—they both dropped.

Flat on their backs.

Lying side by side on the torn earth, staring up at the golden sky.

Neither spoke for a few seconds. The only sound was their exhausted breathing, the quiet hum of the wind.

Then Joy let out a breathless laugh, still panting.

"Not bad...not bad at all." She turned her head slightly toward Carla, a tired grin forming on her face. "I honestly didn’t expect you to last that long. I thought you’d be down in a couple of breaths."

Carla smirked faintly, still breathing heavily.

"Funny...I was thinking the sa. None of my opponents ever last ten minutes against . But you..." She chuckled weakly. "...you didn’t even flinch."

"To think the so-called Saintess of that despicable Church could go toe-to-toe with ...no wonder they bear with you when half of the church if against you."

Then she got sat herself up, her eyes glinting in smug amusent.

"But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’re not better than , Joy. I’ve been injured for days now, not even fighting at full strength. If I were at a hundred percent, I’d have you begging for rcy."

Joy laughed softly, her voice hoarse but sharp.

"You’re talking as if I’m at my best, Carla. Trust , I’m far from it. If I were in full condition, one solid hit is all it would’ve taken to knock you down."

"Oh really?" Carla smirked wider, rolling her dagger loosely in her hand. "Then maybe the only way to prove who’s stronger..."

"...is to fight again. Once we’re both recovered."

Joy sat up as well, turned her head toward her, and t her gaze with a gleam in her eyes.

"I have no problem with that." She said confidently. "I have the Goddess by my side. I have nothing to fear."

"Good. Then it’s settled. When we’re healed, we’ll go again. No holding back."

They both looked at each other, a strange harmony between exhaustion and excitent.

And in that quiet mont, sothing changed, a subtle shift between them.

The tension, the hostility, the unspoken rivalry—it all lted away, replaced by mutual respect.

Because for warriors like them, words ant little. True understanding ca only through battle—through blades, through bruises, through pain.

And Maria had been right all along.

They weren’t enemies. They were simply two souls who spoke best through their weapons.

As they lay there, the sunset painting the sky orange, Carla turned her head again and asked softly, almost curiously,

"Tell ...fighting is one thing. But what about Cassius?"

Joy blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Carla’s tone was quiet, serious now as she said,

"Be honest. If you were at your full potential—at your peak and you faced him in a proper duel, no interruptions, no distractions...could you defeat him?"

Silence.

Joy stared at the sky for a long while, her expression unreadable. Then, finally, she exhaled slowly.

"As much as I want to say I can win...as much as I wish I could say I’d surpass the devil himself..." She paused, closing her eyes. "...I won’t lie to myself."

Her voice softened.

"So, no. I don’t think I could defeat him."

Carla’s smirk faded. She nodded slowly, her gaze distant.

"I see."

"I’ve never fought him directly." Joy continued quietly. "But I’ve felt his aura. Just a glimpse of it. And even that was enough to make feel like I was being crushed beneath a mountain."

"Not to ntion that he wasn’t even trying, he was relaxed. Yet his presence alone felt like standing before sothing...incomprehensible."

Carla nodded quietly. "I know the feeling."

Her voice lowered, thoughtful, almost dark.

"I’ve faced death more tis than I can count. I’ve been cornered, stabbed, starved, and hunted. I’ve been drenched in blood so many tis I stopped flinching at it. But..." She paused, exhaling. "When Cassius had his hand around my neck and looked at with that cold expression, I felt sothing I hadn’t felt since I was a child."

"Fear?" Joy turned to her, eyes narrowing slightly.

Carla nodded once.

"Real fear. The kind that crawls up your spine and whispers that you’re nothing. That’s what I felt from him."

Then she let out a short, bitter chuckle.

"You know, everyone’s always called a monster. It’s the first word that cos to anyone’s lips when they hear about . The monster of the crimson blades. The blood drinking creature from hell. I’ve heard it all."

Her smirk faded into sothing more thoughtful, almost grim.

"But after eting him...I realized what a real monster looks like. Cassius, that man, he doesn’t need fangs or wings or bloodlust to terrify people."

"There’s sothing about him, sothing...hidden, that’s far worse."

"He can stand perfectly still, smile politely, and yet his presence alone feels like it’s peeling away your soul."

She shook her head and gave a low, humorless laugh.

"If there’s such a thing as an insidious being in human form, it’s probably him."

Then she turned her head toward Joy, her eyes glinting faintly in the fading sunlight.

"But you know, I can’t help but wonder. If you and I fought him together—you with your holy power, with my strength and soul manipulation—do you think we’d have a chance?"

Joy’s lips twitched upward into a dry smile.

"Who knows?" She said casually. "Maybe. Maybe not."

Then her eyes sharpened, the faint smirk on her face turning into sothing challenging.

"But tell , Carla...does that an you’re interested? In fighting him? In joining to purge the devil himself?"

Carla let out a small laugh, her eyes gleaming with intrigue.

"Oh? You’d have on your side, Saintess?"

"If you’d lend your blades." Joy said coolly.

To her surprise, Carla smiled faintly and replied.

"Then maybe...I wouldn’t mind."

That caught Joy off guard.

"Of course, that’s only if you can find evidence, real evidence that proves he’s as evil as you believe."

She clarified, her tone sharpening.

"If that day ever cos, if there’s sothing that truly incriminates him—sothing that makes him deserving of judgnt—then yes."

"I’ll be there. I’ll fight with you."

Her tone lowered, more dangerous now, her smirk fading into sothing fierce.

"Because I don’t let people who deserve death live as if they’re saints. I can’t stand the thought of monsters wearing masks of virtue. If he’s one of them, then I’ll gladly make sure he doesn’t draw another breath."

She exhaled softly, her expression then turning into sothing that looked like reluctant admiration.

"But strangely enough..." She added, chuckling quietly. "I don’t usually say this about nobles. In fact, I hate them all. Every single one of them is a festering piece of filth pretending to be pure."

"But Cassius?"

She hesitated a mont before finishing.

"He’s...different. A good noble. Strange words coming from my mouth, I know. But I think he’s one of the few I could actually trust."

That made Joy stare at her quietly for a long ti.

She eventually let out a slow sigh and said, "I see." Her voice was low and weary

"After everything I’ve seen today." She continued, her tone softer. "I don’t even know what position I’m in anymore. When I ca here, I was sure I was facing a devil in human form. Now..."

She trailed off, closing her eyes briefly.

"Now I’m caught between two truths and both seem real. One where the goddess warns of his corruption, and one where the world itself seems to call him a savior. I don’t know what to believe anymore."

She gave a weary smile. "I suppose I’ll just pray tonight. Pray to the Goddess to give so kind of answer—anything."

Carla grinned faintly, about to make a teasing remark. ’Heh, and what if the Goddess simply tells you it’s all been one big misunderstanding?’

But she never got the chance.

Because the mont the words reached her lips, Joy’s expression shifted.

Her eyes narrowed, her face hardening into an intense, analytical look.

She turned her head toward Carla, studying her quietly from head to toe, her gaze sharp enough to make even the vampire uneasy.

Carla blinked, slightly caught off guard.

"...What is it? Why are you looking at like that?"

Joy didn’t answer right away.

Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her voice suddenly low and deliberate.

"Speaking of people who hate nobles...people like us who hate corruption and believe in justice..."

She paused for a mont, her gaze unflinching.

"Have you ever heard of soone called the Noble Killer?"