The sudden fall of night foretold ill.
When Murphy finished that abstract threat, he also activated Blood River Reversal, making a mighty crimson ballad stretch across the night sky. The ominous feeling only grew more unsettling.
Though the latter hadn't drawn her blade yet, Shani had already tightened her grip on her weapon.
Honestly, the fact that it was Murphy who'd come, rather than Lord Paiying, was a relief. Though she had plenty of confidence in her stealth and escape skills, no duke could calmly argue back when facing the Saint Lance, Eternal Silence—a weapon with a damnable specialty against vampires.
It was like being a foolish student who knew he'd done something wrong and was anxiously waiting to see whether the person coming was the police or his homeroom teacher. When it turned out to be the teacher, he knew the situation could still be salvaged.
Though he was bound to get a thorough beating.
"Do you have that much free time, Shani? I've noticed that ever since we joined forces to wipe out the Witch Cult, you've been straying further and further from the path of opposing Midnight Orthodoxy."
Murphy leaned on Nightwatch. Framed by its blade, wreathed in burning bloodflame, he looked increasingly grim, more and more like a vampire lord who was not to be trifled with.
But Murphy really wasn't planning to unleash a major attack right off the bat. He seemed to be going for a gentler "talk therapy" approach.
He stared at Shani. Like the first time she'd met Murphy, the Thorn Duke wore tight clothes suited for combat and a mask that concealed her strikingly married-woman-like face. Yet her signature braid still hung over her chest, making it hard not to reflect on how Murphy had once worked alongside Shani.
And that