Count Baisan was already furious when he saw the wretched state of his loyal retainer.
The young count immediately drew the noble sword in his hand. It wasn't a blade whip, night blade, or knuckle blade—the assassination weapons Thorn vampires excelled at using—but it was most certainly no ordinary weapon.
As the blade left its sheath, a bone-chilling wind swept in. Fine frost, visible to the naked eye, wove itself across the slender blade, gathering rapidly until a transparent layer of ice formed a deadlier psychic blade along its edge.
Murphy blinked at the weapon's flashy entrance.
He wondered whether it was the weapon's special effect or a power unique to the vampire count before him.
Behind Count Baisan, three Thorn vampires also glided gracefully down into the estate. Yet spreading those little wings in front of the Blood Eagle Clan looked downright ridiculous. Their small, delicate blood-red wings made Murphy wonder if they would snap under the strain the next time they flapped.
They were nowhere near enough to let a vampire soar freely through the sky. Sure enough, flight was a privilege reserved for Blood Eagles beneath the midnight sky!
"But it doesn't matter. Small things are cute, too."
Murphy raised the Blade of Desire and said to Maxim beside him:
"This is a bit disappointing. I thought at least one foreign enemy of the Silver rank would show up, so our first encounter with another family could leave us with a glorious battle record."
Maxim didn't reply. He simply drew the black blade of the Tomb Rite from his waist.
The two of them, master and servant, were up against four menacing Thorn vampires. They were clearly outnumbered, yet neither Murphy nor Maxim showed the slightest fear. They hadn't even called for Adele or the other six