Chapter 488 - Windfall From The Heavens

Crack!

A coarse hand clad in metal gauntlets suddenly twisted a Blood Race's neck as though wringing a towel, causing blood to spurt from the twisted folds. A few droplets flew out, splattering across the man's face. The overly muscular man released his right hand and kicked out forcefully. The Blood Race was sent hurtling through the air, crashing into a wall and splattering blood across half of it.

The man wiped the blood from his face and turned toward the main entrance. The blue-eyed hunters who had just rushed in stood rooted to the spot. Their gazes were bewildered, almost dazed.

The man's bloodshot eyes scanned them from top to bottom. Half his face bore streaks of blood smeared by his hand, and his fierce features made him look downright menacing. Clearly, he was not someone to be trifled wiEvery blue-eyed hunter felt a jolt of fear as his gaze swept over them, as though they were being eyed by a wild beast. Even the elite bearded hunter reacted that way, and the leading elder, Wind Blade, could not help but feel a hint of apprehension. It was the sort that arose when confronted by an equally formidable foe.

"You...you must be from the Treatment Ward of the Hunters' Association?" After several moments of tense silence, Elder Wind Blade broke the stalemate. "I assume you are one of the commanders from the Treatment Ward. I never expected you to move against Count Bain's Manor this swiftly... In truth, we could have cooperated to go after these cursed Blood—"

Elder Wind Blade's words were suddenly cut off as the imposing man before him raised a hand and stated, "I am not a commander of the Treatment Ward. I am merely one of the captains serving under Commander Fog Man. You can call me Ghost Bear, or use my name, Igor."

Whoosh!

A severed head happened to hurtle toward them. Ghost Bear Igor slapped it away in midair, causing the Blood Race's skull to explode into shards. He flicked his bloodstained hand casually and, with a calm expression, continued speaking to Elder Wind Blade.

"As for any cooperation, I don't think it's necessary anymore. As you can see, we stormed Count Bain's Manor, shattered every defense, and nearly wiped out all the Blood Race. Now that you've arrived, do you plan to pick the peaches and reap the rewards?

Heh...

"

Ghost Bear Igor let out a mocking laugh.

"Ah, that's not it at all. We simply share the same enemy..." Elder Wind Blade responded quickly. He felt the pressure mounting and realized that his prior intel must have been off. This Ghost Bear Igor, whose strength seemed on par with his own, was merely one of the Treatment Ward's small fry. That implied there were others just as strong, plus the commanders above them.

𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Based on the bearded hunter's report, the Treatment Ward members who came to Shire County included two commanders.

Elder Wind Blade turned this over in his mind, immediately realizing another key point. "You said you broke through the Count's Manor. What about Count Bain himself, the most powerful Blood Race in the entire estate?"

His tone sounded tense and almost interrogative, which made Ghost Bear Igor frown. His fierce Qi grew more intense. Had it not been for the rules set by the Director of the Treatment Ward, Igor would have refused to entertain them, or perhaps even slapped them aside for asking too many questions. Unfortunately, under normal circumstances, he was forbidden from striking humans.

"That Count Bain is already dead, courtesy of Lord Fog Man and Lady Nine Serpents. Something of that level dare call itself the strongest? Even I could have killed it by bringing along a few captains!" Igor looked wildly confident at that moment, openly deriding the Blood Race and flaunting his own strength.

He paused briefly, then continued, "Alright, enough nonsense. The Treatment Ward is handling the aftermath here, and bystanders are not allowed. Leave Count Bain's Manor now, or don't blame me if I resort to force to drive you out..."

"Count Bain is already dead?" Elder Wind Blade's expression shifted dramatically, filled with disbelief.

Tap, tap, tap...

Footsteps echoed through the various passages surrounding the manor's courtyard. One by one, doctors from the Treatment Ward, clad in black combat gear, emerged after finishing their sweep of the battlefield. Each figure looked powerfully built and vicious, with black demonic totem tattoos across their skin. Their uniforms were stained crimson, and their weapons still dripped with fresh blood.

A distinct reek of blood radiated from them, along with a sense of lethal danger. Some, in their savagery, had severed the heads of the Blood Race they had slain and tied the hair together. A few carried these trophies in their hands, while others wrapped them around their thick waists like belts.

As they regrouped at the main gate, they boasted about how many Blood Race they had slaughtered, whether they had lived up to their earlier brags, or if they had won any wagers over who could kill more enemies. Some wore fanatical expressions and others exuded excitement or pleasure, while a few remained cold or utterly impassive. Yet the one sentiment none of them displayed was fear.

In less than half a minute, a crowd of dark silhouettes filled the courtyard, seemingly just as large in number as before the battle. None of the Treatment Ward doctors had been lost during the operation.

Over on the left side of the group, more than a dozen captains gathered, each one physically more imposing than the regular Treatment Ward doctors, exuding a dangerous, beast-like aura. Elder Wind Blade took it all in, gripping his warblade a bit tighter. Indeed, these dozen captains each possessed Qi on par with what Ghost Bear Igor had shown. Some were slightly weaker, but at least five or six surpassed Igor. He knew he had no certainty of victory in a one-on-one fight with any of them.

Ghost Bear Igor had spoken the truth. If he had assembled a few captains, they really could have killed Count Bain. After all, Count Bain was not a high-ranking Blood Race, only close to it.

Standing at the entrance, Elder Wind Blade saw severed limbs underfoot as the black-clad team conversed casually amid that mountain of corpses and sea of blood. He felt momentarily dizzy, finding the situation almost surreal.

Their clan of blue-eyed hunters had endured humiliation in silence for fifty years, constantly training elites and young fighters while developing purer Mercury Thorn refinement techniques, high-potency mercury, and specialized weaponry against the vampires. They had prepared meticulously for this moment, and the chance to strike had finally arrived. They had sharpened their blades and raised their morale to march onto the battlefield.

In the end, they were abruptly informed that the battle was already over.

The powerful force that had oppressed them for fifty years had been casually destroyed by a mysterious outside group as easily as smashing an egg. Elder Wind Blade clearly recalled that these black-clad individuals had come seeking some strange antique. His bearded subordinate had hinted to them that if any antique existed, it would likely be among Count Bain's Manor's treasures. Then, the newcomers had swept in and annihilated everything in their path!

So,Count Bain's Manor that had been dominant in half of Shire County for over fifty years had been wiped out in one night for the sake of a single antique?

Meanwhile, they, the self-proclaimed rebel blue-eyed hunters, had not deployed a single soldier or made any meaningful contribution. No, at least they had provided a hint regarding the antique.

Elder Wind Blade felt like it was all too surreal. It had been too smooth, too sudden. They had assumed that after fifty years of patient development, they would finally rise and overthrow Count Bain's Manor. Instead, their foe faced an unexpected calamity and was obliterated by a sudden new power.

Sometimes that was how life went. One never knew when disaster might descend without warning. An enemy who had seemed invincible moments before could be stomped to death in the next instant by a foot from the heavens.

Elder Wind Blade truly did not know whether to feel joy or disappointment.

"Hey, why haven't you left yet? Do you really want us to throw you out?" Ghost Bear Igor, who had spoken to them earlier, approached with a cold expression.

He cracked his neck loudly, flexing arms thicker than the thighs of an average man, as his grin turned ferocious.

"Wait, Igor. Stand down." A light voice drifted down from above.

A fierce gale swept through the courtyard as a red mist descended. A tall, lean figure in a black cloak emerged unhurried from the mist.

"Lord Fog Man!" The arrogant and ruthless Igor quickly ducked his head, like a fierce mastiff suddenly docile before its master.

"

Mm

." Fog Man waved a hand, dismissing Igor. His half-shadowed face showed no emotion, and he gazed silently at Elder Wind Blade, as though deep in thought. They had no reason to cooperate with the blue-eyed hunters before, since destroying Count Bain's Manor required no assistance. They could simply crush everything in their path.

Besides, they had needed to locate the Kupan Demon Box first, fulfilling their most critical objective.

Now that they had secured the box, their immediate needs were satisfied, leaving room to consider other ambitions. Fog Man’s thoughts began to churn in the direction of earning more merits. Once the Director of the Treatment Ward arrived in Shire County, they would inevitably head for the Alphama direct bloodline Blood Race in the Alphama Mountains. The blue-eyed hunters before him had spent years fighting the Blood Race around the edges of those mountains. They must possess ample experience and hidden information.

Perhaps both sides could benefit each other in future endeavors. Naturally, any blow to the Alphama direct bloodline Blood Race's power would be a massive victory for the blue-eyed hunters, given the huge disparity in strength.

Nine Serpents soon arrived in the courtyard. She and Fog Man began discussing their plan to take action against the Alphama direct bloodline Blood Race with Elder Wind Blade.

Elder Wind Blade was, of course, elated that they wanted to cooperate. Any lingering disappointment vanished. Who would refuse a windfall from the heavens?

Though it might not have felt like an honorable way to win, it hardly mattered—clinging to a powerful ally was the priority. Elder Wind Blade had no reason to be stubborn at such a moment. Holding onto pride could forfeit the gains that cost the blue-eyed hunters several generations' worth of sacrifice and effort to achieve. No one would be foolish enough to let that opportunity slip away.

Besides, they belonged to the Treatment Ward, a branch of the Dark Hunter Organization under the Hongli Empire's official supernatural forces. Although they appeared to be thugs, it seemed they channeled their brutality and malice solely against dark creatures and did not target humanity.

Apparently, that was a rule set by the new Director of the Treatment Ward.

Elder Wind Blade could not help but wonder who the Director of the Treatment Ward was, to command such elite subordinates. The two commanders conversing with him possessed an aura on par with or even more dangerous than a high-ranking Blood Race.

It seemed these two commanders were deliberately radiating that atmosphere, brazenly flaunting their strength. If the Treatment Ward's commanders alone wielded Shadow Hunter–level strength, the Director must be an even more daunting figure. Only someone truly fearsome could rein in such powerful, unruly hounds. Although he had yet to meet the Director of the Treatment Ward, Elder Wind Blade already felt a deep reverence for him.

Time passed quickly. Two days later, just beyond the outskirts of Bright Mountain City, a thin white mist drifted through the morning air on a wide dirt road, cloaking the lush woods on both sides. Three figures waited silently by the roadside: two in cloaks, and the other in training clothes.

They were, of course, Fog Man, Nine Serpents, and Elder Wind Blade, who had tagged along. The two commanders intended to present the Kupan Demon Box, along with the blue-eyed clan's intelligence on the direct bloodline Blood Race, as a gesture of loyalty.

Whoosh...

A cool breeze swept through the forest, stirring the white mist. They heard the rumble of carriage wheels from further down the road. It didn’t take long for two modest yet comfortable black carriages to emerge from the haze and halt beside the trio. The horses snorted and pawed the ground.

"Director of the Treatment Ward, we located the Kupan Demon Box you requested two days ago!" The silent and aloof Fog Man stepped forward, eyes gleaming with fervor. He approached the carriage window and respectfully held out a finely crafted wooden box with both hands.

Swish...

The curtains parted, and a well-defined hand emerged. Its fingers seized the wooden box, and with a gentle tap, the sturdy container crumbled into fine powder that fluttered through the air like ribbons.

The smooth metallic surface of the box itself was now revealed. It seemed to sense the surroundings as the faint greenish-black patterns glimmered across its surface.

"

Heh heh

, so it returned to my hands once more... The Book of the Devil..." A man’s low chuckle could be heard from inside the carriage.

Click.

The carriage door swung open.

A figure whose sharp features and very aura radiated a domineering strength slowly disembarked. The light around him seemed to warp slightly as the white mist converged around him on its own accord.

The man in the black windbreaker looked over at them in silence.