Illusion in Blood

The Young Miss fled through the woods.

She wasn't the type to abandon her kin and flee alone. The most orthodox education she'd received since childhood had instilled in her the commanding ability expected of a Midnight Aristocrat.

She knew perfectly well what fleeing without a fight in such a situation meant for her family.

But she couldn't turn back to fight.

Because she no longer had any kin to speak of. Facing a Gold Tier enemy who had burst onto the battlefield, the annihilation of the Midnight Hunters was a foregone conclusion.

Her opponent was a White Knight, skilled in Nature Psionic tactics and capable of using Divine Arts. And they were in a forest, no less!

It was a death trap with all the elements for disaster.

For her, a Vampire Psionicist who hadn't even passed the Silver Body Trial, escaping such an enemy was already an undeniable victory.

However, a huge question echoed in Fimis's mind.

Even if these remnants of the Old Church were unwelcome in the Guelderland Kingdom, and even if the Witch Hunter groups were treated as expendable cannon fodder thrown into the Transylvania Region, there was still no one who could restrain a Gold Tier expert like him.

Even if Fenwick was truly serving the Guelderland Kingdom now, he should have been by the side of General Loren, the commander of the Pioneer Legion!

Unless that general had lost his mind to dare to openly allow such a "Humanoid Monster" to roam freely.

Most importantly, if Fenwick had been active in the Transylvania Region before, why would her father have known nothing about it?

A White Knight wasn't a profession known for stealth.

As long as Old Fenwick had appeared, the spies of the Blood Vulture Clan would have surely picked up his trail. His sudden appearance was completely illogical, unless...

"There's a traitor in the family! The local intelligence network has been compromised."

A terrifying guess bloomed in the Young Miss's mind, perfectly explaining the reason for her desperate situation. The Blood Vulture Clan's control over Transylvania had issues, and the family hadn't detected the real threat.

With Gold Tier experts being deployed, the enemy's target was obvious.

Cadman City.

They were going to attack Cadman City!

The conclusion of this thought made the Young Miss hold her breath. The moment she realized the clan was in danger of annihilation, Fimis became even more resolute in her determination to escape.

She had to deliver this news to her father immediately, otherwise, the entire Blood Vulture Clan would suffer devastating losses.

However, the outcome of fleeing has never been decided by the one who flees.

All she could do was continuously use her Psionic skills to create more Illusions, releasing them in all directions to disrupt the pursuers' senses. Yet, after a few minutes, just as the Young Miss was about to break out of Smuggler's Woods, a blazing sunlight erupted from behind, sweeping across the entire forest like a cascading beam of light.

"Ah!"

Fimis cried out in pain.

It felt as if she had been thrown into a boiling pot. She could feel the scorching and charring as the ripples of Solar Psionics swept over her skin, leaving her so weak she couldn't maintain flight. She plummeted to the ground, trailing thick black smoke.

A Psionic outburst of this magnitude had completely drained the life force of that high-level Psionicist from the Ring Tower, who had essentially launched a final attack with a death wish.

But the results were gratifying.

The Young Miss, who had crashed to the ground in a sorry state, didn't even need to sense.

She could be certain that the Midnight Hunters she had gathered had just suffered a pathetic wipeout. Now, the question was, did she still have a chance to escape this deadly forest, which was supposed to be for the enemy?

The answer was no.

After a few minutes of recovering from the burns and paralysis, Fimis hadn't even managed to spread her Blood Wings to ascend when the figure wielding the Oak Greatsword appeared before her.

Yes!

It was in front of her! Not behind her.

This proved that the Young Miss's breakout attempt was also within the White Knight's precise control. The entire forest had deceived her, causing her to not only fail to reach the border but to venture even deeper into the woods.

Like a desperate prey toyed with by a skilled hunter, in the face of overwhelming power, even the noblest bloodline couldn't save her from this quagmire.

Old Fenwick approached Fimis, carrying the burning Oak Sacred Blade. The surrounding trees twisted and contorted with his every step.

The branches and vines intertwined, forming a grim "birdcage" that even extended above their heads, blocking the path to the sky.

"What a cute little girl, but alas, you have a wicked heart. Just like the other vampires, you should hide in your darkness and live like rats.

But you always want to meddle in the world under the sun."

The old knight said with disgust:

"You started the war and disturbed the peace of the entire world. Now it's time for you to pay the price. So don't put on that wronged look, child.

You brought this upon yourselves!"

Miss Fimis knew she had no escape.

In her final moments, unwilling to face eternal silence as a coward, she decided to go all out and engage in a death battle she didn't particularly enjoy.

She drew her ceremonial Demonic Blade Longsword with her left hand and flexed the fingers of her right, drawing free-flowing Dark Psionics from the night. Crimson light flickered at her fingertips, rapidly shaping a Psionic Javelin entwined with thorns at both ends.

This was an advanced extension technique of Psionic Shock, not recorded in the Young Miss's manuscript that Murphy had learned.

It wasn't that the Young Miss was unwilling to teach it, but this was an advanced application that a Psionic novice like Murphy couldn't master in a short time.

She took a deep breath.

Her black hair danced in the chaotic wind, but she stared at Old Fenwick opposite her without a trace of fear, her clear, cold voice provoking him:

"Scum of the Old Church, don't put on that hypocritical act of being forced to fight! Isn't it because you betrayed your vows and turned your weapons against the people and country you swore to protect ten years ago that you've fallen to this point?

The esteemed state religion actually colluded with those idiots from East Prussia, whose brains are no bigger than walnuts, to launch a rebellion!

After you were suppressed and became stray dogs, was it us who secretly instigated your King Louis?

The entire Porsia Confederacy was dragged into the Ten Years' War because of your foolish rebellion! The chaos and darkness you now despise have your part in them!

What were you doing when you considered yourself righteous?

Were you participating in the rebels' revelry of slaughtering the people of Ice Bay and the Sachs Mountain Folk? Or were you leading the rioters to charge into Bourbonte and burn that pearl of Xilan to ashes?

I return your words to you!

Everything you are suffering now is your own doing!

Do you know why the Blood Vulture Clan deliberately tortures the Witch Hunters they capture?

It's not because we are inherently cruel, but because the Xilan Nobles secretly paid us to do it! You wouldn't have expected it, would you? The ones who hate you the most are not us, but your own people.

And you...

Deserve it!"

Although the Young Miss usually didn't talk much, her verbal sparring skills were truly exceptional.

In just a few sentences, she hit the core of the issue, leaving the old knight speechless. He could only silently raise his sacred blade and charge forward, intending to end this meaningless debate.

The Young Miss threw a scarlet javelin, but it was cut down by the White Knight's sword. In front of that sacred blade burning with purifying fire, all of Fimis's skills and knowledge were rendered useless.

After less than a minute of defense, her arm was severed by Old Fenwick, and she was then trapped against the tree trunk by the White Knight's summoned vines.

"Sharp-tongued girl, rest in peace."

He said in a low voice, then swung his sacred blade down.

Fimis closed her eyes in despair.

She could feel the scorching purifying fire pouring down on her head, and perhaps in the next second, all her life would be extinguished.

However, the expected pain did not come. To her surprise, the Young Miss opened her eyes and saw that the sacred blade, adorned with oak, was steadily stopped in front of her head.

The purifying fire encasing its sharp edge was rapidly fading, revealing a smooth blade inscribed with Elven Script and a very ancient, simple, and sacred oak crossguard.

"Are you humiliating me? Kill me!"

The Young Miss was so angry that the excessively pale color on her cheeks flushed with blood. She swallowed, thinking that this old knight with thick eyebrows and big eyes was also a chaotic evil prankster.

But the truth was not so.

Although Fenwick's face was expressionless, he was also surprised inwardly.

This was not him deliberately toying with the little vampire before him; the purifying fire on the sacred blade had extinguished itself. Moreover, the sacred blade, which had been screaming in hatred of vampires just moments ago, had inexplicably quieted down at this instant.

It was as if the sacred blade itself was hesitating whether to harm this Midnight Malevolent Spirit before it.

"How is this possible?"

The old knight was extremely shocked at this moment.

The Oak Sacred Blade in his hand was one of the Old Church's Three Sacred Blades, the Watcher, a divine gift inherited from the Elves, which most detested vampires, these "Eternal Sin Descendants."

He had just slaughtered the Midnight Hunters as easily as killing chickens; how could it now voluntarily retract its power?

He stared at the petite vampire before him, then thoughtfully sheathed his sword. To Fimis's wide-eyed gaze, he took out a black seed and pinched her somewhat chubby cheeks, forcing her to swallow it.

"Cough, cough..."

The seed melted in her mouth, and its strange taste made the Young Miss cough violently.

She cursed:

"What, what did you feed me? You scoundrel! How can you treat a... Ah!"

"What do you see?"

Fenwick completely ignored the Young Miss's struggles. The old knight pressed down on Fimis's head and questioned her:

"Tell me, what do you see now?"

"Get lost! You shameless wretch, I will never... Ah!"

The Young Miss gritted her teeth, refusing to respond.

However, the seed seemed to have strong hypnotic and chaotic effects, causing illusions to appear before her eyes, as if the entire world were inverted and distorted. She could only vaguely hear Old Fenwick's questioning.

"Tell me, child, what do you see? Describe what you see! It's important for both of us!"

He continued to question.

Fimis felt her spirit wandering in a chaotic scene, vaguely seeing herself walking among intersecting starlight.

She shook her head hazily and said intermittently:

"Blood... I saw a blood tree... growing from an endless blood pool... no leaves, only branches... what is that?"

"Snap."

The answer made the old knight narrow his eyes. He then decisively waved his hand, releasing the Young Miss from the restraint of the blood vines, and tossed her to the ground in the distance.

The violent impact jolted the Young Miss awake from the strange illusion.

She weakly looked up and saw the old knight had already sheathed his sword and was walking deeper into the forest.

"Why?"

She weakly shouted:

"Why did you let me go? Are you humiliating me?"

The question made the old knight stop.

He didn't turn back, merely speaking in a muffled, sighing tone:

"Go home and ask your father, you poor little girl. I didn't spare you; your future is already miserable enough, and letting you live is the greatest punishment!"

These words filled Fimis with even more confusion.

But she was completely drained of strength, able only to watch as the monster who had single-handedly slaughtered her entire party vanished into the shadows of the forest.

Such humiliation and bitter defeat made the Young Miss painfully clench the mud beside her. After a few seconds of silence, she let out a frustrated scream.

"Ah!!!"

Then, this scream brought her an unexpected helper, its effect as miraculous as a pet trainer's whistle summoning.

"Yo, Young Miss, are you alright?"

Murphy's voice rang out from not far away, and then the Little Players rushed out from the now normal-looking forest.

They ran over and surrounded the Young Miss, who was sprawled on the ground in an undignified, defeated posture. They didn't offer a hand to help her up, instead chattering and gossiping beside her in a strange language she couldn't understand.

"You scoundrel! Murphy! Control your rude servants!"

When had the Young Miss ever suffered such indignity?

Already injured and weak, being treated as a spectacle by a group of Little Players made her both anxious and angry. She yelled at Murphy. Murphy slowly walked up to her, reaching out to help her up as he said:

"My servants are like this – rude, barbaric, but warm-hearted. Don't be angry now; you need to rest. Hmm, fainting so easily, what a fragile Young Miss.

My Warrior Niu Niu, come here!

I now appoint you as the Young Miss's Royal Knight!

Carry her on your back.

Let's go ahead and take a look."