I, Jeanne d'Arc, Walk on The World of Arknights Chapter 450 447: Unexpected, Right? This Is My Escape Route!

Imdiately after Jeanne and the Sanguinarch exchanged blows, the wails of anguish could be said to have resounded throughout this forest. Even Talulah and the others in the distance could faintly hear those miserable screams.

"Good grief, who is that? Their voice is certainly loud enough."

Everyone who heard that voice was startled, worrying whether Jeanne or Patriot was being subjected to so kind of inhuman mistreatnt. But listening carefully, they didn't recognize this voice! Since they didn't recognize it, then based on the current situation, it was an enemy. Yet everyone couldn't help but shudder; just what kind of terrifying interrogation must one undergo to emit such a non-human sound?

However, the group did not dwell on this matter for too long, because there were still enemies wandering nearby; if they didn't pay attention, their lives might be in danger.

"That is... the Sanguinarch's voice! Just what on earth happened that could make that fellow let out such a tragic wail?"

In another location, those currently in combat with Patriot also heard this sound that was like the crying of ghosts; everyone was startled by it. When they realized this was the voice of the Sanguinarch, their hearts held no schadenfreude toward this fellow—who would kill people at the drop of a hat—falling into such a state; instead, it was another kind of deep fear. For a person to make the Sanguinarch let out such a sound, just how terrifying must the individual hiding deep in the forest be!

After thinking to this point, everyone couldn't help but break into a cold sweat. Subsequently, an aura like that of a ghost or god ca rushing toward this place. Although this Confessarius leader wanted to check the specific situation, he was unfortunately facing the enemy Buldrokkas'tee! In that single mont of distraction, he nearly took a hit from the old fellow's halberd. To be honest, wanting to capture him alive without harming his life was indeed difficult; even regarding the point of harming a life, it was unknown whose life would be hard by whom.

"It seems you indeed have a helper! To actually make the Sanguinarch emit such a sound, it seems they are not an easy fellow to deal with..."

Having said this, the heart of this Confessarius sank to the bottom. Having one Patriot was already extrely troubleso; adding an unknown fellow made the situation difficult to predict.

Patriot did not bother with this fellow; he knew far too well why this was happening. It seed that Vampire had already suffered that pain which reached deep into the soul, hadn't he? Back then, if it hadn't been for his own strong self-control, he likely would have made such a sound as well, so he understood the situation all too well. It was just that, why did he feel the Sanguinarch's howling this ti was miserable to such a degree? His own pain back then hadn't reached this level, had it? Moreover, that **** had experienced countless wars; he should be even stronger than himself when it ca to enduring pain.

"WHOOSH—WHOOSH—"

While the two were fighting, the sound of sothing rapidly approaching them could be heard. When the two turned their heads to look, they saw a mass of blood-colored thick mist rushing toward Patriot's side. Patriot naturally guessed that the Sanguinarch had co to attack him; while brandishing his long halberd to deal with the Confessarius and the Sarkaz army, he raised his shield in an attempt to resist the attack.

What Patriot did not expect was that this fellow actually skimd past him and ignored him entirely. His targets, in fact, were those Sarkaz soldiers.

"Help... Help !"

In an instant, the soldiers behind the Confessarius fell into total chaos. They shouted in fear, no longer caring about the battle as they scattered to flee for their lives. This was because they saw a Sanguinarch who looked like a malevolent ghost; he grabbed a Sarkaz soldier beside him and bit down, sucking his blood until it was dry.

Vampires can accelerate the recovery of their injuries by consuming blood. Currently unable to find suitable blood-food elsewhere, the Sanguinarch could only regard these Sarkaz as his food. But this didn't seem to have much of an effect; the pain in the depths of his soul remained the sa, as if wanting to tear open his brain so it would never hurt again, showing no sign of improvent. Furthermore, the injuries on his body showed not a hint of relief; the wounds continued to fester incessantly, as if they were rotting at that had been left out for several months.

"Not enough... the blood is not enough!"

At this mont, the Sanguinarch had completely lost his forr elegance. Like a hyena that had been starving for a month, he held a Sarkaz soldier in his mouth while still muttering sothing under his breath. Under the gaze of those crimson eyes, all the soldiers felt they couldn't move an inch, only able to stand in place like wooden stakes.

After consuming the blood of five soldiers, the Sanguinarch did indeed feel that his body had recovered sowhat, but this level of recovery could only be described as a drop in the bucket. Facing a body that was incessantly deteriorating, this sign of a one or two-second delay was of no use at all! He had to think of a good way; otherwise, he was certainly going to die here today! The Sanguinarch being killed by the saliva of a teenage girl—if word of this got out, he wouldn't be able to rest in peace even if he died!

At this mont, the Confessarius looked at this ghost-like version of the Sanguinarch; though he was sowhat angry that this fellow was more of a hindrance than a help, he was also surprised by the injuries all over the man. Did Ursus actually have such a figure? Why had he never heard even a trace of information regarding this person? He felt he had been cheated by the Emperor's Blades; no wonder that group had chosen to cooperate with him—it turned out it was because there was such a ruthless person here.

Under his gaze, the Vampire, seeing the degree of festering and petrification on his body intensify, extended his sharp nails and began cutting his own body. He wanted to excise all the places on his body that had co into contact with that strange liquid; simultaneously, he would consu blood to let his body recover. But this thod could no longer be called a "thod"; it was torture. Because after that bottle of holy water from Jeanne smashed down, there were basically no good spots left on his body.

The Sanguinarch's hands were like peelers; the flesh on his body detached as his nails scraped past, and before long, the ground was covered in flesh. At this mont, for the sake of survival, the Great Lord no longer cared about anything else; he frantically grabbed the Sarkaz beside him just so their blood could allow him to live. And this thod indeed had an effect; after cutting off nearly a whole layer of flesh, he finally brought his body to a point where it was no longer collapsing as before.

But this did not an he was fine; the festering skin on his body and the ntal tornt still hadn't diminished; it was just that his life was no longer in danger for the mont.

"Do you know what you are doing, Vampire!"

Over there, the Confessarius even stopped his battle with Buldrokkas'tee, questioning this damned Vampire in a tone full of rage. Was this fellow intentionally here to cause trouble? He hadn't provided a single bit of practical use; since coming here, besides causing chaos, he had only been killing people! If it weren't for the fact that an internal feud might cause sothing to go wrong right now, he definitely would have split this damned Vampire apart with a single strike just now! He shouldn't have let him co here with him; even if he had found a Shapeshifter to help, they would have been a hundred tis better than this fellow!

This ti, facing the questioning of the Confessarius, the Sanguinarch did not have any extre reaction. He only stood up weakly and then said:

"I will explain this matter to you later. I will deal with Buldrokkas'tee; you take this ti to go and finish off that little girl in the woods."

Although he was currently very weak, if it was rely to restrain this Wendigo, he could still manage it by relying on the incredibly powerful vitality of a Vampire. Furthermore, weren't there plenty of "blood bags" in the surroundings? By relying on the blood of these small fry, he could surely hold out until the other party returned to support him. Even if that little child could fight, she wouldn't be harder to deal with than Buldrokkas'tee, would she? The other party had rely mastered a thod to counter him.

But hearing those words that sounded like an order, the Confessarius felt as if he were about to be made to laugh by this idiot.

"You've made such a ss of this matter, and yet you want to give up the mission to help you deal with a little girl who made you suffer? You..."

He spoke these words while using spells and swordsmanship to parry Patriot. As he spoke, the fire in his heart grew increasingly intense, and the sword in his hand grew increasingly heavy.

"That little girl might have so connection to the recent counterattack by Babel! You have a very high chance of obtaining valuable intelligence!"