Sigmund stood atop the conquered walls, inhaling deeply. The thick scent of blood and char lifted his spirits. This eyesore of a fortress that had blocked him for years was finally about to fall.
These past days, using Velariss’s trolls’ powerful regeneration as the vanguard, he had attacked relentlessly regardless of cost, finally uprooting those annoying outer magic towers one by one.
The trolls were more than half dead, but the results were splendid.
When the last tower collapsed in a deafening roar, the fortress’s fate was sealed. No matter how sturdy its walls, without outer magical fire support, collapse was only a matter of time.
Now only his old rival Alama and the routed remnants stubbornly resisted inside the castle’s complex structure.
One more day at most, and he would be crushed!
In a half-ruined tower nearby, sword light suddenly flashed. Amid dying demon soldiers’ wails, a blood-soaked young human officer burst through the door, eyes red, sword raised, charging desperately at the conspicuous Sigmund.
“Die, bloodsucking beast!”
Facing the sudden assault, not a ripple disturbed Sigmund’s crimson eyes.
Normally, encountering such a courageous youth, he might have felt talent appreciation and tried capturing him with generous offers, attempting to turn him into a fierce general.
But now his heart held only the intense desire to utterly destroy this fortress. Any obstacle in his path would be mercilessly erased.
*Puchi!*
A blood spear whistled from behind Sigmund, piercing the human officer’s heart.
The charging figure staggered, stumbled two steps, then fell from the high wall with unwilling eyes.
The adjutant expressionlessly retracted the surging crimson blood energy into his black robe, stepped forward, and reported, “My lord, scouts discovered traces of human reinforcements behind High Fort. At our current pace, we may not fully clear the interior before they arrive.”
“Reinforcements?” Sigmund sneered, unsurprised. Alama counting on aid would be strange otherwise. “If they had come one or two days earlier, it might have been trouble. Now…”
Humans had lost the advantage of defending the fortress. Could his elite demon army fear clashing with humans inside?
The adjutant paused, voice lowering. “Also… Lady Velariss ‘accidentally’ injured another of our support squads.”
His wording was as polite as possible, but the truth was the mad duke had gone berserk and treated friendly troops in her sight as toys.
Sigmund was silent a moment, veins faintly pulsing at his temple. “…Order all troops to avoid her area.”
With victory in sight, he didn’t want complications.
…
The bloody slaughter inside High Fort lasted a full day and night. When the killing cries finally died down, Sigmund finally faced his old rival Alama.
The knight was soaked in dark-red blood, armor battered, still holding a Blood Knight’s head.
Clearly Alama had fought at the front lines the entire time, unlike Sigmund who had leisurely commanded from the rear.
Their eyes met. Alama casually tossed the head to the ground with a dull thud, then turned alone toward the castle’s only intact main hall.
Before entering, he looked back deeply at Sigmund.
Sigmund knew: his old rival was inviting him.
“Hoping to reverse the battle by killing the commander? Out of moves already.” Sigmund licked his fangs but didn’t follow immediately.
He knew his limits. Though Alama had fought nonstop for a day and must be exhausted, with Sigmund’s current figure, he had no certainty of victory.
Moreover, with victory assured, why risk a stupid duel?
Only meatheads like Xenophon made such mistakes.
He decisively called the fragging Elinore and the half-mad Velariss, who had slaughtered all day, to deal with this major threat together.
But when they entered the hall, a fat man wielding sword in one hand and staff in the other burst out.
He pointed his staff. Magic threads shot like living snakes, wrapping Velariss and flinging her out of the hall. Then he leaped after her.
Sigmund recognized the human fatty: Oath City’s lord, Grand Duke Lorenzo; the last-minute reinforcement.
He didn’t worry about Velariss; that lunatic’s strength wasn’t much less than his.
His gaze refixed on Alama opposite. “This your whole plan? Have your companion stall Velariss while you alone here take us two?”
“Exactly.” Alama’s voice was calm but firm. He dropped his battered greatsword that had accompanied him for years and slowly drew a new weapon from behind, solemnly planting it before him.
Sigmund’s pupils narrowed. He didn’t know what was special about the sword, but at this moment, caution was wise.
He prepared to signal for two Blood Knight squads from outside to test the waters.
But Elinore couldn’t wait. She let out a shrill taunt. “One against two? Alama, you overestimate yourself! Last time was just luck! This time, where will you run?! Hahaha!”
Amid Elinore’s piercing laughter, torrents of blood surged from her cloak.
This was her harvest from a full day inside the castle, prepared for this moment!
Blood splashed like living creatures, clinging to every corner of walls, floor, and ceiling.
“Blood Manipulation: Blood Prison!”
With her sharp cry, crimson mana fluctuations instantly enveloped the space, sealing it into a cage of death.
“I’ll use your head to decorate my bath! Hahaha!” Elinore issued what sounded like a victory declaration.
Sigmund lowered his hand to summon subordinates. Elinore’s blood prison was already cast; too late to say anything.
Moreover, in this blood-mana-saturated space, as a fellow blood-clan, he did feel environmental enhancement.
The thick bloody scent made his mana flow smoother. For humans, the blood poison here would constantly erode their bodies. Quite a practical battlefield control skill.
Before battle, Sigmund sternly warned the roommate sharing his body mentally, “We had a deal this time! Remember your promise! Dare screw up at the critical moment and we die together!”
This was his bottom line.
“Like I’d break a deal,” Lin Jun’s consciousness replied innocently. “We agreed in advance this time. I won’t interfere. I’m the most trustworthy!”
Sigmund snorted coldly, skeptical of the roommate’s words.
But in the end, Lin Jun kindly reminded, “Be careful not to die…”
Sigmund felt a flicker of surprise. Not because the roommate cared about his life; they shared a body.
What puzzled him was faintly sensing… excitement from the roommate’s consciousness?
But Alama was already charging with sword raised. He had no time to ponder.
Crimson blood light and cold sword edge collided violently in the sealed hall!
(End of Chapter)
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