章節 42: Bloodbound Judgment (3)
Chapter 42: Bloodbound Judgment (3)
Finally, Carl turned his attention back to Irina, Xenovia, but mainly on Orlok and Wisborg.
With a graceful motion, Carl created a blood longsword where its crimson blade gave off a malevolent glint of sharpness. As he held the sword aloft, the air around him seemed to hum with an electric energy, charged with the power of his demonic aura.
"Now, let's put an end to this charade, shall we?" Carl said, his voice carrying a note of finality as he prepared to join the battle. "The Lasombra will learn a painful lesson that revolves around boundaries. You two lapdogs of Lotharius, have you made peace with Death?"
Orlok and Wisborg exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from arrogance to unease as they finally met the one they thought could be defeated. Facing the malevolent monster in human shape with raw amounts of demonic power exuding from his body, their erstwhile confident demeanor falters in the presence of his overwhelming power.
"Lotharius's lapdogs? How dare you speak to us in such a manner. You're nothing but an abomination who doesn't know his place, and still dares to challenge the Lasombra over the Blood Throne." Orlok spat, his voice laced with venom as he grips his demonic longsword tightly.
"You may be powerful, I give you that, but all your power was gained from preying on your Kindred. You're just a monster that shouldn't have been given birth. Now, it's our job, as Enforcers of the Lasombra Clan, to see a nuisance finally dealt with."
Wisborg, his vampiric features contorted into a snarl, added, "You think you can intimidate us with your cheap theatrics? We know you're still weak from almost entering slumbering."
Carl's lips curved into a smirk, a glint of amusement dancing in his crimson eyes. "Ah, but you see, my dear 'brethren' I just had a copious feast that you bunch of morons left for me on my way. Lotharius still thinks of himself as some 'Unmatched Intellectual' for setting up a bunch of ambushes. Well, let's just say that everyone that was on my path is just dry bones."
With a swift motion, Carl unleashed a surge of demonic power, his aura radiating with an intensity that sent shivers down Orlok and Wisborg's spines, even Xenovia and Irina were forced by their instincts to step back, as if to avoid the demonic being, but Jeanne put her hand on the chestnut haired nun to reassure her that she would be fine. The air crackled with energy as Carl's presence dominated the battlefield, his eyes enveloped into an eerie layer of darkness.
"Now it's only you two dumb fucks, along with Karnstein Group waiting outside to find their maker. It will be quick, since you have humiliated yourself plenty while facing those little girls, even my woman that was not too long was just a simple human managed to taint your pride with her Sacred Gear."
"You speak boldly, Krassius," Orlok retorted, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "However, we only messed with those lowly swine's waiting for the moment you'll finally get out from your rat hole. Since you appeared there's no point of holding back.
"Let's see if you can back up your boasts with action."
"Huhuhu, pathetic morons. You're still barking in my direction. This is why I kind of hate this Vampiric Society, it's only filled with prideful pigs who don't know better. Since you continue to underestimate me, I'll make sure you suffer in the process."
With that, Carl condensed the demonic power in the air, his aura engulfing the battlefield in a sea of blood-red energy as particles of blood coagulated in the shape of ten large Blood Spears ready to impale them.
As the ten Blood Spears materialized, their jagged edges gleaming with an ominous crimson hue, Orlok and Wisborg exchanged a wary glance since the abilities displayed by Carl were something only a Vampire Lord would pose with their authority.
Facing those ten Blood Spears that loomed above them like executioner's blade, their bravado slowly eroded in the face of Carl's overwhelming power.
"Hmpth! Petty parlor tricks!" Wisborg sneered, his body fully regenerated from the wound Xenovia inflicted him, his voice laced with defiance as he tightened his grip on his demonic two-handed sword "You are nothing but a mere nuisance, a thorn in our side that needs to be eradicated."
"Enough talk, Wisborg," Orlok interjected, his tone tinged with a hint of apprehension. "Let's show this upstart what happens when you cross the Lasombra."
With a swift motion, Wisborg lunged forward, his fangs bared in a feral snarl as he attempted to evade the incoming Blood Spears. But Carl was one step ahead, using another of his Blood Manipulation he turned his body in blood and vanished in the dark alley, leaving the two Vampires empty-handed and stumbling for responses.
The Blood Spears moved onward with deadly accuracy aiming directly at their vital points, but in hindsight this was just a distraction that Carl employed to cause greater damage.
"Show yourself, rat!" Wisborg's voice echoed through the alleyway, filled with frustration and anger as he scanned the surroundings for any sign of Carl's presence, his vampiric senses strained against the oppressive darkness.
Orlok, meanwhile, remained on guard, his eyes darting warily from one shadow to the next as he gripped his sword tightly, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Despite Wisborg's outburst, he knew better than to underestimate their opponent, especially after witnessing the display of Carl's newfound powers that were nothing like in the past.
Suddenly, Wisborg's keen senses picked up on a faint disturbance in the air, a subtle shift in the currents that hinted at Carl's presence. With a growl of anticipation, he lunged forward, swinging his sword with all his might at the source of the disturbance.
But to his surprise, his blade met only empty air, as Carl materialized behind him in a swirl of blood mist, his crimson eyes gleaming with malicious intent. Before Wisborg could react, Carl thrust his hand forward, a sigil with the crest of the Leviathan House appeared in empty-air, sending a torrent of black water crashing into the vampire with bone-shattering force.
"What is this? This feels like Devil Magic. You! You already joined the Devil's side?"
Wisborg staggered back, his body wracked with pain as the dark water engulfed him, seeping into every crevice and pore like a malevolent tide. Desperate to break free, he struggled against the suffocating grip of the abyss, but it was no use.
The black water seemed to seep into his very being, filling him with a cold dread that chilled him to the core.
Carl shifted back into an intangible state as he transformed into blood, returning to the blood pool encroaching the battlefield like a living demonic creature.
Hearing Wisborg's remark, and watching his futile attempts to break free, Xenovia who was stunned by the sight of those Blood Spears plunging upward and downward toward the Lasombra Vampires like executioner's blades, looked down at the blood at her feet, and she spotted a pair of crimson eyes gleaming with contempt.
'What is this? I heard only Vampire Lords, Elders and the Vampire Monarchs are capable of wielding such Blood Magic. Can I defeat this guy if I use Durandal?'
'He might not be someone that we should antagonize even if he was the one who triggered the Holy Ward. We might just give some excuses saying that we cleared the misunderstanding and we're good.'
'Vatican rules don't say that all Devils and Demons are inherently Evil, and they can be reasoned with, especially the Higher Class who have their own aspirations and desires.'
Engrossed in her own thoughts just like the other two girls, Orlok and Wisborg on another hand continued on dodging and parrying the first few spears with supernatural agility, but the onslaught continued, finding themselves overwhelmed by the sheer force of Carl's demonic power.
"Come fight me, you devil slave! Let me see the brand they engraved on your rotten soul."
"Bla, bla, bla. So much nonsense from your dirty mouth. Me? On the Devil's side? Oh, you give the Devils too much credit. Just because I enslaved a Leviathan Princess and learned their exclusive Devil Magic, this makes me a betrayer?" he replied, his voice dripping with disdain.
"Don't forget who is the true Blood Monarch of Lasombra."
Appearing not far from Wisborg who continued to taunt him just so he would reveal himself, materializing from the blood particles and swiftly with a flick of his wrist, Carl intensified the flow of dark water, causing Wisborg to cry out in pain as the pressure mounted.
The vampire's struggles grew more frantic, his movements becoming increasingly desperate as he fought against the suffocating embrace of the abyss.
Meanwhile, Orlok watched in horror as his comrade was slowly consumed by Carl's demonic powers, a cold knot of fear tightening in the pit of his stomach. Despite his bravado, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, this amount of power wasn't what he remembered Krassius to wield.
As Carl stood amidst the swirling maelstrom of dark energy and blood-red mist, his eyes narrowed with focused intensity. With a deep breath, he murmured under his breath.
'Awaken.'
'Blood Burst.'
The core of his armor resting on his heart began shining with crimson light, he called forth the power of his Longinus Sacred Gear, tapping into the primordial forces that coursed through his veins, and he could feel that the deeper he was grasping over this force, the more drunk on this power he was growing.
At first, there was only a faint shimmer in the air, like the flicker of a candle flame in the darkness. But as Carl concentrated, the shimmer grew brighter and more intense, casting eerie shadows that danced across the alleyway walls.
Then, with a sudden surge of power, the shimmer exploded into a burst of crimson light, bathing the entire battlefield in a blood-red glow. The air crackled with raw energy as tendrils of crimson mist coiled around Carl's outstretched hands, weaving together to form intricate patterns that pulsed with an otherworldly force.
This ability allows him to harness and manipulate the blood within his own body, as well as the blood of others, to devastating effect as long as their magical resistance was lower than his own capability.
The surge of blood energy began enveloping around Wisborg in a swirling vortex of crimson mist. Obviously, the blood mist was infused with his demonic power, allowing him to constrict and crush his victim's body from within.
'If this works as I imagine it. I'll be damned, since it was inspired by those Marvel superpowers. Heck, I might actually be capable of building a Symbiote if I grow to master the Blood and Devil Magic.'
The mist acted akin to a living entity, responding to Carl's commands and tightening its grip with bone-crushing force all around Wisborg who screamed in pain, grabbing into his chest. Wisborg's screams echoed through the alleyway as the tendrils of blood mist tightened their grip, constricting around his body.
He trashed and struggled, but it was futile as the Blood Spell already jeopardize all of his system,
As Wisborg's struggles grew weaker with each passing second, his body began to convulse as if wracked by invisible tendrils of agony. His skin grew pale and clammy, his eyes wide with terror as he realized the full extent of his impending doom.
"Please! Mercy!" Wisborg gasped, his voice choked with desperation as he pleaded for his life. "I beg of you, spare me! I will serve you, I swear it! Just... just don't let me die like this!"
But Carl's expression remained impassive, his crimson eyes cold and unyielding as he watched Wisborg's futile struggles. The tendrils of blood mist continued to tighten their grip, crushing the vampire's body with relentless force.
"Your pleas fall on deaf ears, maggot," Carl replied, his voice echoing with a chilling finality. "You laid your bed when you chose to serve Lotharius and to attack those around me."
"Now in your twilight hour, grow a spine and take accountability for your actions."
With a final, desperate gasp, Wisborg's body went limp, the light fading from his eyes as the last vestiges of life were snuffed out by Carl's Blood Burst. The alleyway fell silent, save for the soft rustle of the wind and the faint echoes of Wisborg's final screams.
Carl stood amidst the aftermath of his spell, his breathing even as if he didn't even exert himself in taking care of Wisborg. Xenovia and Irina watched in stunned horror, their eyes wide with disbelief at the sight unfolding before them. They struggled so much against those Lasombra Vampires but the black-haired man took care of them with such ease.
The alleyway fell silent, save for the sound of Carl's steady breathing as he surveyed his handiwork with cold detachment. He directed his attention back to the remaining Lasombra vampire, Orlok, who watched the scene unfold with a mixture of fear and trepidation.
There was a predatory gleam in his eyes, and his words creeped over the Vampire's spine. "I consider this the price of unfounded arrogance. Have you made peace with whatever divinity you're believing in, maggot?"
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