Blood flowed along the grooves of the tal, gathering at the end of the hilt, dripping down in large drops, seeping into the carpet, above the blade, a creature barely resembling a human was nailed to the ceiling.
The mont the blade hit it, it erupted into dense Iron Thorns, tearing through every inch of its flesh, shredding all its bones, its skin still maintained its shape, but inside it had already transford into a ss of mud and dirty blood.
Bologue, reflecting on his experiences from the past few days, had already guessed what the creature was, but he still carefully observed to confirm.
The familiar pale skin, the loss of sanity, leaving only frenzied scarlet eyes, a strong ability to resurrect, but under Bologue’s fatal attack, even this ager resurrection ability was rendered useless, and it completely died.
Bologue whispered, "Bloodthirsty."
Within the Night Race, different classes are differentiated based on the purity of bloodline; the nobler the bloodline, the greater the ability to convey one’s power to the next class through "Blood Donation," for example, if Serey were to donate blood to a mortal, that mortal would directly ascend to the Pure Blood class within the Night Race.
But through layers of transmission, even the purest bloodline gradually deteriorates, and the power of the Night Race continuously weakens, the most evident manifestation being this class known as the "Bloodthirsty."
The Bloodthirsty are the lowest class within the many classes of the Night Race; their bloodline has undergone multiple deteriorations, they suffer severely from Bloodthirsty Syndro year-round, and they are essentially devoid of rationality, driven purely by a desire for blood.
The weaknesses of the Night Race also deteriorate continually, concentrated upon the Bloodthirsty, with their susceptibility to silverware greatly increasing, and they burn to ashes the instant they touch sunlight. As for the pride of the Night Race, the Undying Body, it is reflected in the Bloodthirsty rely as enhanced recovery power.
Upon suffering a fatal blow, they die truly like mortals, just like the one slain by Bologue now.
"After continuous deterioration of the bloodline, even their Blood Contract gradually distorts," Serey had once comnted on the existence of the Bloodthirsty, "If the Pure Blood class is blessed as debtors, then the Bloodthirsty are nothing but a unique kind of demon."
Objectively speaking, the Bloodthirsty are still debtors, but under the continuous deterioration of the Night Race’s power, they have beco akin to demons that have lost their sanity and crave souls.
Bologue walked to the window, looking out at the Fortress of the Morning Wind, accompanied by flashes of lightning, he saw countless bloodthirsty figures arriving with the tide, without any sign or warning, the offensive of the Night Race descended once more, and this ti they actually crossed the coastal defense, invading the Fortress of the Morning Wind.
How could this be? Is the core hinterland of the Clarks so vulnerable?
Before Bologue could co up with an answer, a hoarse voice ca with the wind and rain, sharp claws slicing from all directions, like ropes ready for execution.
A turquoise glow rose suddenly, the area where Bologue was, all bricks touched by the Fla of the Cauldron instantly transford into sharp spikes, thrusting outwards.
Those Bloodthirsty hanging on the castle’s exterior wall, preparing for an ambush, were all penetrated, their flesh pierced into a ss of mud, then thrown onto the dark earth.
On the smooth castle exterior, nurous stone spikes grew now; Bologue stood among the spikes, his eyes rolling with the glow of Ether.
Sharp bird calls ca from within the dark clouds, followed by more piercing cries gathering together, in the backdrop of lightning, Bologue saw the flock of birds falling from the dark clouds, resembling limbs extended by the dark clouds caressing the earth.
The Wind-Eroded Birds swooped down towards the Fortress of the Morning Wind.
The first Wind-Eroded Bird crashed head-on into the sturdy wall, seemingly suicidal, leaving vibrant bloodstains on the wall.
Torrential rain washed over the wall, yet the blood appeared viscous and unmoved, after a brief delay, the blood boiled and ignited, like fierce gunpowder, then exploded.
Fierce flas rose on the exterior wall, the explosion shook the structure, vibrations reached all the way to Bologue, and this was just the beginning; countless Wind-Eroded Birds continuously crashed into the walls, the igniting blood causing a constant series of explosions.
In an instant, the Fortress of the Morning Wind seed trapped in an ancient siege warfare, relentless artillery fire intertwined continuously.
These Wind-Eroded Birds were different from those Bologue first encountered; these alchemical creatures had undergone deep modifications, their blood akin to Red rcury, transforming into biological bombs.
The sharp cries of the birds continued, they had discovered Bologue, several Wind-Eroded Birds swooped towards him.
"Damn it!"
Bologue summoned Deceitful Snake Scale Liquid, dense scale armor forming into a Round Shield, Bologue hoisted the Round Shield and ran towards the other end of the corridor, followed by explosions from the exterior wall.
Fierce flas easily pierced through the windows, rolling fire spreading into the building like tide, rushing through the corridors.
Bologue’s figure was also propelled by the fierce explosion, smashing heavily against a side wall, thankfully the Round Shield blocked most of the impact, Bologue deftly got up, and the Fla of the Cauldron spread outwards.
The bricks began to overlap and shift, and Bologue quickly filled the exploded, collapsed spots, but his speed of filling was far outpaced by the suicidal attacks of the Wind-Eroded Birds.
The violent vibrations surrounded the Fortress of the Morning Wind, all the glass shattered in an instant, scattering debris everywhere. The carpet caught fire, and in the blaze of the flas, the strong outer wall began to collapse. Ultimately, the Wind-Eroded Bird tore a giant gap in the robust outer wall.
Sea breeze mixed with smoke flooded into the building unimpeded, and hordes of Bloodthirsty creatures climbed into the Fortress of the Morning Wind through the gap, with a chaotic battle imminent.
Bologue stood up awkwardly, and after the smoke and dust dispersed, nurous Bloodthirsty creatures appeared in the almost-ruined corridor where he was, wearing sturdy Iron Armor and fitted with so complex alchemy devices on their backs, injecting complex potions into their bodies, accompanied by their heavy, bloodthirsty breathing.
Bologue sighed, "What a despicable status..."
The Night Race had transford these Bloodthirsty into sothing akin to alchemical creatures, significantly enhancing their combat power with potions and armor.
In the Fortress of the Morning Wind, nurous Ether reactions arose as the Condensers of the Clarks had already launched their counterattack. However, the counterattack was sowhat too late, as the opponent had already invaded the Fortress of the Morning Wind. Regardless of the outco, this was considered a grave defeat for the Clarks family.
The hungry roars suddenly rose, and the Bloodthirsty creatures roared as they charged at Bologue, equipped with sharp claws on their arms, tearing the ground easily during the sprint, raising dust.
Bologue watched them without changing his expression, mumbling to himself, "Since it’s co to this, tearing things apart a bit more wouldn’t matter, would it? Palr."
In an instant, the Fla of the Cauldron spread across the whole corridor, engulfing several Bloodthirsty creatures within it.
Raising his hand, Bologue slowly clenched his fist, grasping the Scepter of Command.
"Obey... my command."
The azure flas seed to endow these mortal materials with souls, granting them will, and now they obeyed Bologue’s command.
The ground began to twist, the walls started to writhe, and the sturdy bricks surged like rolling waves, gradually collapsing and engulfing the Bloodthirsty creatures, akin to sealed coffins.
Bologue could hear the abhorrent wailing, and as the bricks stacked up, they would all turn into ruins, displayed before Bologue’s eyes.
The raised hand smashed down sharply, abandoning this abhorrent entity. The collapsing, sealed bricks imdiately bore the pressure more intensely, further collapsing. Those Bloodthirsty creatures yet alive were crushed into a ss of mud, as if placed under a hydraulic press.
This was a skill Bologue learned from Palr. After witnessing the effect of air pressure on enemies, Bologue thought he could also use materials to enclose and compress opponents, grinding them into delicate filthy blood.
Like the Iron Maiden torture instrunt from a century ago, but Bologue preferred to call this move the Iron Embrace.
Blood seeped through the gaps, a faint Ether reaction rose from the ruins, and the calm blood boiled under the call of Ether. Scorching flas were about to unleash, but this ti it was under Bologue’s control.
With Ether surging, Bologue exerted all his might to impose command, and blinding flas erged from the cracks of the bricks. They then broke through a sealed side, releasing roaring streams of fire to relieve the imnse pressure.
Not only did the Wind-Eroded Birds explode, but these Bloodthirsty creatures did too, compared to the feigned attacks over recent days, tonight’s assault was the Night Race’s true offensive.
The noise of thunder and rain mixed with continuous explosions; these pesky monsters plunged many into tough battles. Fortunately, after enduring battles for a while, the Fortress of the Morning Wind quickly rebuilt its defenses following a mont of panic, and the grand echoes of Ether resounded endlessly.
Nurous Condensers mobilized the power of Ether, and under this dim night sky, many auras of Ether shimred, spanning the battlefield like auroras.
Amidst chaos and disorder, Bologue detected clues in this bloody mire, cautiously looking towards the other end of the ruins.
Others in such a situation might find it hard to locate the true enemy, but Bologue was different. He had a profound connection with the Devil, capable of sensing those sinister fluctuations and seeking out fellow Debtors’ presence.
In this vast darkness, relying solely on vague instincts, Bologue locked his gaze on the collapse below, seemingly able to glimpse a sinister figure through it.
Toxic mist spread and filled the air, corroding everything nearby, whether life or Ether, it was all corrupted and tornted.
"Why am I not surprised?"
Bologue murmured to himself, not knowing when he began to get used to his holidays turning into overti work.
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