With Elder Marcus's strength, his sword was enough to split a Werewolf in two, severing it with a single stroke—nothing could withstand it.
At Elder Marcus's command, the Vampires swiftly adjusted themselves, preparing for the fierce battle ahead.
Elder Marcus took the lead. Like a streak of Black Lightning, he instantly charged into the Werewolves.
He was incredibly fast, almost beyond the limits of humanity.
Though astonished, the Werewolves simply could not keep up with Elder Marcus's speed. They could only watch helplessly as the Vampire leader moved through them as if no one were there, slaughtering their companions at will.
Elder Marcus's swordsmanship was fierce and precise. Every swing seemed to foresee every subtle movement of the Werewolves; wherever his blade pointed, nothing remained unbroken.
His sword light flashed through the night like the reaper's scythe. Each swing took a life, leaving streaks of crimson in its wake and stirring up a bloody storm among the Werewolves.
In his wake, the Werewolves had not even had time to react before his incomparably sharp blade severed their bodies. Blood sprayed everywhere like fountains, and the air was thick with the heavy stench of blood. The sight was unbearable.
Selena led the Deathwalkers close behind, like messengers of death, continuously harvesting the Werewolves' lives.
Gunfire erupted as Ultraviolet Bullets and Silver Nitrate Bullets flew in every direction.
However, Kraven lagged a few steps behind. He carefully dodged the Werewolves' attacks while warily observing his surroundings.
He would never gamble on whether he could dodge Ultraviolet Bullets.
Years of indulgent living had made him cherish this hard-won life even more. He did not want to suffer an unexpected downfall in this perilous place because of a moment's carelessness.
But although Kraven was cautious enough, Elder Marcus simply did not like the look