Tragic and Fierce

Although Laman deliberately lowered his voice, it remained crystal clear in the quiet night, and Leian, hiding in the shadows, heard every word of their conversation.

"Transforming into a magic beast? A Dragonblood Warrior?"

This thought flashed through Leian's mind instinctively, but he immediately dismissed it; the timeline didn't match, as there were no Dragonblood Warriors in this era.

Could it be that the Cleo Family possessed the bloodline of a divine beast?

Leian pondered this while straining his ears to listen.

Under the cover of night, a flash of gloom crossed Elvis's eyes. He had not expected his greatest secret to be discovered by Laman so quickly.

But since this secret concerned his family's heritage, he absolutely could not admit to it. With this thought, he immediately feigned a look of astonishment and replied:

"Transforming into a magic beast? Laman, have you lost your mind? What kind of nonsense are you spouting? My Cleo Family is entirely human, not magic beasts!"

Hearing this, Laman sneered:

"Elvis, there's no point in playing games. Do you think I would come here in the middle of the night to spout nonsense without being absolutely certain?

"Although your Cleo Family has a long history, my Rachel Family is no small fry either. We have written records regarding the ability to transform into magic beasts!

"If you're smart, hand over the secret technique honestly, and I might spare your life. Otherwise, after tonight, the Cleo Family will have no descendants left!"

Seeing that Laman was so certain, Elvis knew he could no longer hide the truth. Sighing, he gave a bitter smile:

"Laman, I didn't realize your intelligence network was so well-informed! It is true; our Cleo Family can indeed transform into magic beasts.

"However, this is not some secret technique, but the bloodline of the 'Magic Dragon' flowing through our veins. It is a gift from our ancestors, not something a commoner like you could ever covet."

As Elvis spoke, Laman's expression grew increasingly grim. He stared at Elvis with eyes like those of a man looking at a corpse. Once the other man finished speaking, he let out a cold laugh and said with murderous intent:

"Elvis, I see you won't shed tears until you see the coffin. Even now, you still dare to play tricks on me.

"Do you know why Bird betrayed you? Here is a hint: the night of the sixteenth, your confession to your wife in the study, and everything that followed!

"Well? Do you want me to continue?"

Elvis remained silent. He still could not fathom the reason for Bird's betrayal; in his heart, dying for one's lord was only natural.

However, upon hearing the mention of "the night of the sixteenth," he realized that the secret of the "magic beast transformation" could no longer be kept.

That was the very night he had first attempted to transform using the family's secret method. It seemed Bird had witnessed everything and subsequently told Laman every detail.

What should he do?

Elvis's brain raced. He did not believe for a second that Laman would let him go after he handed over the secret technique.

At this thought, a surge of boundless killing intent welled up in his heart. Since he would die if he handed it over and die if he didn't, why not fight for a chance at survival?

Furthermore, it wasn't as if he had no chance of winning.

Having made his decision, Elvis gradually adopted a dejected expression. After a moment of struggle, he unslung the pack from his back and, with great reluctance, tossed it between them, saying:

"Laman, you win. Everything you want is in the pack. I hope you keep your promise!"

Laman glanced at Elvis, then at the pack on the ground. A flicker of greed involuntarily crossed his eyes, but out of caution, he did not step forward. Instead, he signaled to Cal, who was standing to the side:

"Cal, go and retrieve the pack!"

"Yes, my Lord Baron!" Cal was so excited that his voice rose uncontrollably.

Of course, he did not lack basic vigilance. He kept his eyes locked on Elvis while cautiously moving toward the pack.

When he reached the front of the pack, he paused. Only when he was certain that Elvis would not make a move did he carefully crouch down.

Throughout this process, his eyes never left Elvis.

However, the moment Cal's fingers touched the pack, Elvis moved.

"Die!"

Accompanied by a high-pitched shout, Elvis kicked off the ground with both feet. His entire body surged forward like a hurricane toward Cal.

Before he even arrived, the blade was already in motion. The gleaming broadsword cut through the night like a bolt of lightning, slashing down toward Cal's head.

The speed and momentum of Elvis's strike far exceeded that of a seventh-rank warrior. Caught off guard, Laman and the others were stunned, failing to notice the changes in Elvis's body.

In fact, the moment Elvis lunged, his hands had transformed into two pitch-black dragon claws, and even his cheeks and neck were covered in a layer of black dragon scales.

Laman and his men did not notice this change, and Leian, being further away, saw even less. However, the speed Elvis displayed was perfectly clear to Leian, who was so shocked that his own breathing faltered for a moment.

On the field, Cal naturally abandoned the pack immediately.

However, the distance between them was short, and Elvis's speed exceeded everyone's expectations. In his haste, Cal could only struggle to raise his axe to block the blade.

Clang!

The sword and axe collided, emitting a crisp metallic ring. Cal's entire body shuddered as he felt a massive, overwhelming force travel along the handle into his arm, numbing his entire limb.

His forearm involuntarily sank, and Elvis's blade took the opportunity to slice into his shoulder.

Overcome by pain, Cal could no longer hold onto the axe handle. With a thud, the heavy axe slammed into the ground.

Taking advantage of this, Elvis swept his blade horizontally, and a gruesome head went flying.

Seventh-rank warrior, Cal, dead!

"Cough, cough, cough--"

Although he had eliminated a major threat in one fell swoop, Elvis was not faring well. This strike seemed to have aggravated his old wounds; no sooner had he severed Cal's head than he leaned on his blade for support and began to cough violently.

Not far away, the four men led by Laman had initially been stunned by Elvis's ferocity, but the sound of his coughing pulled them back to reality.

Upon seeing the "beast transformation" on Elvis's body, their hearts could not help but burn with desire once more.

The four exchanged glances, and Laman gritted his teeth and said, "Don't be afraid. This guy is at the end of his rope. If we all attack together, he definitely won't be able to stop us."

With that, he slowly moved forward.

As Laman's son, Benson felt a tremor of fear in his heart, but he dared not retreat at such a moment. The butler, Ryan, was long accustomed to obedience, and Kelun, poisoned by the Heart-Eroding Potion, had his life held in Laman's hands; how could he dare to defy his orders?

The four formed a semicircle and approached Elvis simultaneously.

"Cough, cough, cough--"

Elvis continued to cough incessantly, appearing truly as Laman had described—at the end of his strength. This only served to bolster the confidence of Laman and his men.

"Kill!"

Following Laman's low shout, the four struck at once. Laman and Ryan each raised their swords to stab at Elvis's head and chest, while Benson and Kelun stooped low to attack his legs.

Facing the combined assault, Elvis suddenly leaned backward, narrowly avoiding the blades of Laman and Ryan. At the same time, he pressed his blade downward with great speed.

After pinning down the longswords of Benson and Kelun, he flipped his body, supported himself with one hand, and swept his right foot fiercely toward the four men's abdomens.

This change in movement was incredibly fast, far exceeding the standard of a level-seven warrior. Laman saw it, his heart skipped a beat, and his gaze subconsciously swept over the opponent's dragon-claw arm, thinking to himself:

After practicing that secret technique, could this guy have already broken through to a level-eight warrior?

Once this thought took root, Laman believed it for the most part. Thinking that his opponent had reached level eight, Laman felt no fear; instead, it ignited the ruthlessness in his bones.

He knew very well that if they could not leave Elvis here tonight, once the man recovered from his injuries, the Cleo Family would face total annihilation.

Thinking of this, Laman advanced instead of retreating. He wrapped his arms around, his face fierce as he met Elvis's right foot, intending to pin it against his chest.

If this kick had been delivered by any other level-eight warrior, Laman would never have been so reckless. He was gambling—gambling that Elvis was severely wounded and, even with the speed of a level-eight warrior, could not possibly exert the power of one.

Laman's move truly caught Elvis off guard, leaving him no time to change his technique. Although his right foot swept fiercely into Laman's abdomen, it was, as expected, caught by the man's arms.

"Bang!"

A powerful force surged into his chest and abdomen. Laman groaned, his face turning pale instantly, and a streak of blood suddenly flowed from the corner of his mouth.

With just one kick, Laman had injured his internal organs. However, he had won the gamble; the power of Elvis's kick had indeed barely reached the level of a level-seven warrior.

"Kill!"

At this moment, Kelun let out a violent shout. Seizing the opportunity, he swung his heavy sword, slashing across Elvis's back and drawing a spray of blood.

As the captain of the guards, Kelun had often escorted goods, clashed with bandits, and seen blood, so he had perceived Laman's plan immediately.

Benson lacked experience and was a step slower in his reaction, while Ryan, being older, was also slightly sluggish.

However, Elvis's combat experience was far richer. The moment his lower leg was held by Laman, he rolled along the ground, a move that not only pulled his leg free but also avoided the brunt of Kelun's heavy sword.

After a few continuous rolls, Elvis performed a horizontal sweep, forcing Laman and the others back, and slowly stood up.

With old wounds compounded by new ones, Elvis's condition was worsening, but his eyes grew sharper. He stared fixedly at Laman and said:

"I didn't expect that even someone as pampered as you could be so decisive. I underestimated you, Laman!"

"It seems I have no choice but to use that move!"

Having said this, Elvis slowly raised his long blade. His battle qi surged within him, and under the dim moonlight, a layer of Black Light began to glow on the surface of the blade.

"Watch out!"

The moment he saw the Black Light flowing on the blade, Laman knew Elvis was going all out. But before he could offer any further warning, his opponent had already charged over.

This time, Elvis's speed was even greater. He was like a bolt of black lightning. As he rushed forward, his figure flickered, and in the blink of an eye, he split into four—there were now four Elvises.

Seeing this, the expressions of Laman and his men turned grave, though they were not overly panicked. After all, both families knew each other well, and they were naturally clear about Elvis's methods.

The four Elvises before them were not all real; the truth was one real and three false. The three fakes were merely illusions, their primary purpose being to make it impossible to distinguish his true form.

However, Elvis's speed was immense. No sooner had the four men raised their guard than the four "Elvises" were upon them.

Elvis's illusions were incredibly lifelike. Laman and his men could not tell who was the illusion and who was the real body. Since they couldn't tell, they treated them all as real.

"Kill!"

In an instant, black light flickered and sword energy surged. Then, with a few soft "puffs," three of the four "Elvises" vanished one after another, while the last one knelt on one knee, panting like an ox.

It seemed that Elvis had not gained the upper hand, but at that very moment, a scream from Laman suddenly echoed through the field.

"Ah--"

At some point, Laman's right arm had been severed at the root. The severed limb, along with his longsword, fell to the ground, and blood sprayed from the wound, turning into a mist of red.

At the same time, on the other side, Ryan and Benson both tilted their heads back. The longswords in their hands had snapped, and each was clutching their throat with their other hand, as if trying to hold something in, but bright red liquid was already seeping through their fingers.

The next moment, the two of them fell straight to the ground, lifeless.

"Ah, Benson!"

Laman stared with wide eyes at his son's corpse, letting out a roar of fury.

The power of Elvis's ultimate move had completely exceeded his imagination, especially the speed of the blade—it was so fast that he had only managed to shift his body slightly, trading his arm to save his life.

At the same time, he could not understand why Ryan and Benson had still been killed if it was Elvis's true form that had attacked him.

"My lord!"

Kelun, the only one left unscathed, no longer cared about the dead on the ground. Upon hearing Laman's miserable scream, he snapped out of his daze and rushed to Laman's side with a face full of terror.

Elvis was too terrifying; not only had he severed the Baron's arm in one strike, but he had also finished off Ryan and young master Benson at the same time.

Such strength absolutely exceeded the seventh rank!

"Benson, my son! Ah, Elvis, I want you dead! I will slaughter your entire family, ah!"

The agony of losing his son, combined with the searing pain of his severed arm, drove Laman to the brink of madness. However, his remaining sanity told him that this was the best moment to kill Elvis.

He immediately suppressed the intense pain, fixed his gaze on Kelun, and shouted with a mix of threats and hatred: "Quick, Kelun, go kill him! Kill him!"

Kelun dared not defy the Baron's order. He immediately turned around, gripped his sword hilt tightly, and began to walk slowly toward Elvis.

At this moment, Elvis was panting like an ox, his entire body trembling uncontrollably; it seemed he didn't even have the strength to stand up.

Seeing this, how could Kelun not understand? Elvis, having unleashed an ultimate technique while already wounded, was truly at the end of his rope.

Thinking of this, he decisively swung his sword, hacking toward Elvis's vitals.

Pfft!

Facing Kelun's attack, the nearly exhausted Elvis dodged with all his might, yet he was still slashed across the shoulder. The wound extended to his back, and blood began to gush out.

Seeing this, Kelun's confidence surged. He began to attack Elvis with one sword strike after another.

Dragging his weary body, Elvis parried and dodged clumsily, soon sustaining several more minor wounds. This made Kelun as excited as a crazed tiger.

However, the next moment, just as Kelun thrust his sword toward Elvis's chest, Elvis suddenly stopped retreating and instead surged forward, rushing straight into the blade.

Kelun's expression changed drastically. He guessed Elvis's intention in an instant, but it was already too late to dodge.

Ssh!

The sharp blade pierced through Elvis's body with unstoppable force, but Elvis used this opportunity to successfully close the distance to Kelun.

Seizing the chance, Elvis swung his left arm violently. His hand, transformed into a dragon claw, flashed across Kelun's throat like lightning, tearing away a large chunk of flesh.

"Hrk—hrk—"

Blood sprayed like a fountain, instantly drenching Elvis. Kelun's eyes bulged, his peripheral vision filled with unwillingness, but he soon ceased to breathe.

While pulling out Kelun's longsword, Elvis controlled his muscles to constrict his wounds, then staggered toward Laman.

"Elvis!"

Laman held his sword in his left hand, pointing it at Elvis while gritting his teeth. When Kelun died, he had endured his pain to pick up the sword from the ground.

Elvis sneered. As he closed in on Laman, he didn't say a word and swung his blade to strike.

"Clang! Clang!"

Laman fought to parry with his longsword, but he had already suffered internal injuries, and the loss of his right arm had thrown off his balance. Furthermore, having never practiced swordsmanship with his left hand, he could not display any real strength.

On the other side, Elvis was also gritting his teeth, relying solely on his final breath to keep going. After a few exchanges, Elvis relied on his rich combat experience to trade injury for injury once more. At the cost of having his own chest pierced, he finally hacked off Laman's head.

However, Elvis also seemed to have reached his final moments. After swaying a few times, he collapsed straight onto the ground and remained motionless.