Chapter 728: The Living Dead

In the tangled alleys of the new suburb, a group of men finally relied on a wilderness hunter's tracking skills to find their priceless target.

Unfortunately, they were destined to be disappointed.

Hiss!

Amid flashing blades and sword shadows, Lausanne the Second drew his sword out of a wide-eyed enemy and ducked aside, avoiding the silver throwing dart from behind.

"Reinforcements! Call reinforcements!"

"Go from above!"

"He's too strong..."

"Don't let him get away! This man is worth five hundred gold!"

"Do you know how to position or not? Surround him!"

"He slipped through! Watch behind you!"

"Don't sleep, brother. Damn it, that is his anomalous ability..."

Lausanne the Second's sword seemed alive. As his body flipped and danced, it shuttled back and forth between high walls and narrow alleys. Every strike achieved the greatest effect, throwing his opponents into confusion.

His steps were orderly, always striking the beat at the moment he was pincered, shifting position and escorting him out of the encirclement so he could begin the next one-on-one duel.

"I've seen you! I definitely saw you before! But weren't you dead?"

"Run! That's Lausanne! Lausanne of the Blood Bottle Gang!"

"So what if he has a name? My boss is Fisso, the Head Wolf of the Brotherhood! I don't care who he is, cut him down!"

"Are you crazy? Even Prince Thales could not keep him! I said..."

"Help! He knows our boss!"

"The Blood Bottle Gang legend is true. He came back to life!"

"Impossible! Black Sword killed him!"

Came back to life?

Lausanne the Second sneered inwardly.

Compared to Robel, he had been far, far less fortunate.

Back then, when he woke from that night's nightmare...

He felt thirsty.

A thirst that bored into the heart.

A thirst that could not be relieved even if he lay in a water vat and drank all night.

Until the little girl who had kindly taken him in to recover cut her hand on a stalk of wheat.

Then the monster awoke.

Thinking of this, Lausanne the Second's troubled and painful sword paused. The enemy who should have been cleanly finished let out a moan and suffered several more seconds of pain.

But his opponents were too poor to seize such an opening.

If it had been Huaqin or even Bruno from the past, he would have suffered for it.

"How many times do I have to say it? Garlic is useful! Reciting the Book of Sunset is useful!"

"Is beheading useful?"

"Isn't he a vampire? Why don't these blood bottles work?"

"Since they're called blood bottles... do only Blood Bottle Gang bottles work?"

"Phantom Blade tricked us!"

Lausanne the Second ignored the five or six mercenaries and bounty hunters flickering before and behind him. He turned and struck as if by instinct, harvesting the next life amid screams.

Blood bottles did work, of course.

The blade opened a wound, and fresh blood sprayed. He shifted almost imperceptibly to avoid being stained by it.

Heavens knew how much pressure he endured with every swing of the sword, fighting the monsters inside his body.

Blood.

No. Shut up.

He repeated it again and again, emphasized it again and again, forcing them back into the corner.

That day, the little girl who had taken him in died.

So did her parents, who had rushed over after hearing the sound.

They were killed by the monster.

Lausanne the Second fell into a trance.

And after he woke, he discovered...

He had long since lost everything.

Only this shell remained.

This cursed, hated, disgusting shell.

The two enemies before Lausanne the Second had been aggressive, but suddenly their expressions turned dull, and they collapsed in confusion.

A third man gritted his teeth and stabbed his own thigh hard, shaking his head through the pain.

But in those few seconds, Lausanne the Second advanced like a ghost, and his sword flashed.

Hiss!

Only after the fact did the man realize his throat had been cut. In terror, he clutched the column of blood bursting from his neck and turned to flee, crying.

"Aaaaaah!"

Blood! Blood!

Shut up. You are not hungry. You drank your fill long ago, Lausanne the Second scolded inwardly.

Not enough... battle... more... blood...

Get out.

Lausanne the Second looked at the other opponents whose eyes were full of fear and stepped forward, sword dripping blood.

"Didn't they say we were surrounding and killing an out-of-date old killer?"

"You call this out-of-date?"

"This is called a killer!"

With the complete transformation of his tissues, organs, muscles, bones, even his thoughts and spirit, he was no longer himself.

Inside this body, there was nothing left that belonged to him.

Even the Power of Eradication, once most loyal and reliable, which he had thought would accompany him for life, had left him without a trace.

Even the once-familiar sword techniques could no longer be used.

All that remained were overly sensitive senses, a shell as gray and dead as rotten wood, dim vision that made night like day, and...

Thirst for fresh blood.

Of course, there was also fear of the sun.

"I swear! They told me he was just a mindless vampire!"

"Open your dog eyes and look. Is this mindless?"

"This is called a vampire!"

He had tried.

Truly.

He had tried to resist, countless times.

But he could not.

Just like facing his former fate.

He could not resist.

He was powerless to resist.

How could he resist?

"The information I got said he was a half-crippled supreme-class man on the verge of death!"

"You call this half-crippled?"

"This is called supreme class!"

He was no longer that spirited knight attendant, no longer that ambitious genius swordsman, not even the cold-blooded killer who shared a name with "Bad Blood" Lausanne, one of history's most unforgivable men.

He was only...

A beast clinging to life.

A wild animal.

Lausanne the Second regained his balance and breathed for one second.

Why?

Why had things become like this?

Was it because he was too weak?

Because he was too weak and could not defeat the bloodthirsty monster inside him?

Because he was too weak and failed to block Black Sword's brilliant sword thrust in the pouring rain?

Because he was too weak and failed to endure the terror of defeat, swallowing the drop of source blood that had never been meant for him?

Or because he was too weak and could not accept a ruined life, listening to old Turnbull's tempting words?

Or because he was too weak and failed to carry out his creed in prison and raise his sword to end himself, so that his teacher would not have had to lose a hand saving him?

Or because he was too weak and failed, in the hands of those complex and shifting schemers, to protect the flawless Crown Prince Midier to the death?

Or because he was too weak and failed, in the final duel, to follow another group's arrangement and openly kill Heras Jadestar, ending the royal succession struggle?

Or because he was too weak and failed to resist the thirst for vanity at the selection meeting, ignored the knight armor Aknett wore so perfectly and proudly, and simply sat quietly in the audience?

Could it be because he was too weak, and on the field ridge of his childhood, failed to see through fate's malice and simply reject the hand that Great Knight Huaqin extended to him with hope and expectation?

At that moment, Lausanne the Second's left hand trembled. He had been hit by an arrow.

A silver crossbow bolt.

Familiar agony came.

The left half of his body began to go numb.

Damn it.

Lausanne the Second forced back an attack and found that the enemies around him had all become red human-shaped targets, pulses beating, full of life.

Full of blood.

Not good.

He swallowed instinctively.

Blood.

No.

Injured and losing blood, the monsters inside him began to stir, struggling to come out.

Before Lausanne the Second's eyes went dark, he seemed to return to that field long ago and see the little girl who had fallen in the grain, her blood dyeing the food red.

No...

Just then.

Remember, attendant! A knight is not merely a title...

Huaqin's voice suddenly sounded, shaking his spirit.

Ever since his encounter in the sewer, his teacher's words would always faintly echo by his ear.

Extremely annoying.

...it is a path of ascension worthy of a lifetime of understanding and practice!

The next second, Lausanne the Second suddenly opened his eyes.

Ascend my ass.

Wham!

His sword decisively cut back, removing the silver arrow in his left arm along with a large chunk of smoking flesh.

The wound on his arm quickly recovered.

His pain remained, but the numbness gradually disappeared.

...why do we insist on this conservative and backward old knightly method, insist on this creed that has long been scoffed at?

Because you are nothing but an old relic who dares not face reality, who spends his days failing and fleeing, deceiving himself and others, and even tirelessly pouring these absurdities into your students and attendants.

Handro Huaqin!

Nameless anger for no reason defeated pain and blood thirst, and Lausanne the Second's swordsmanship changed abruptly.

"His sword is too fast!"

The enemies' voices grew more frightened.

"No, the sword isn't fast. The force is too strong!"

"It's obviously the technique. So strange..."

Careful. If you no longer believe in these creeds...

Because they were absurd and laughable from the start, unworthy of anyone's belief.

Amid Huaqin's echoing words, Lausanne the Second swung his sword coldly.

He was cruel and decisive, and the monster inside him could no longer influence him.

"That fellow is using a saber, isn't he? It swings in an arc!"

"Why does everyone have a different explanation? What level is he actually?"

"It must be his sword! Maybe some magic ancient divine weapon or old empire sword! Find a way to disarm him!"

The next second, Lausanne the Second sent out a clever thrust and sent the opponent who was clumsily waving a chain, trying to disarm him, to the Prison River.

...when that moment comes, only you yourself, only your heart, will know whether you are worthy of the name of knight.

But that moment has already come, Huaqin.

Lausanne the Second thought coldly.

And I know now.

It is the name of knight...

That is unworthy of me.

"No, no, no. I know this man! Him! It is him!"

"It's Lausanne!"

"The Blood Bottle Gang legend is true! He came back!"

Lausanne the Second struck again, piercing the last enemy's heart and finishing another opponent.

He took a deep breath and suppressed the blood thirst that was stirring again. Satisfied, he saw:

His opponents' morale collapsed, and they scattered all at once.

Ruthless slaughter solved many problems. Many bounty hunters who had rushed over at the news began to hesitate and retreat after seeing the ground full of bodies and wounded.

Lausanne the Second sheathed his sword and stepped out of the alley.

How far was he from the abandoned watchtower in the distance?

Yes, that watchtower.

He had to go there.

There.

He thought this, as if so long as he treated that place as the end, he would not have to think about what came after the end, or before the beginning.

He could only think this way.

But before he had walked far, footsteps sounded behind him. Someone had caught up again.

More than one.

Lausanne the Second smiled and placed his hand on the hilt again.

--------------------

Thales stood alone on the watchtower, fiddling with the spyglass in his hand.

"All right. He is gone."

Thales suddenly spoke.

"As you said, he went off eagerly to curry favor with me."

Thales did not turn his head, speaking strangely to the bright moon.

"Now, what do you have to say?"

A breeze blew. The watchtower was silent.

Thales frowned.

Finally, just as the prince was about to run out of patience, another hoarse voice sounded faintly:

"I ask Your Highness's understanding."

Thales turned around.

Lee Corleone, regent of the Nation of Night, appeared soundlessly before him and bowed respectfully.

"That this mission has troubled Your Highness so greatly was not my wish, nor Her Majesty Katerina's."

Thales stared at him for quite a while.

But Lee's expression remained like an ancient well without waves.

Thales snorted.

"Understanding, of course. How could I not understand?"

What else can I do if I do not understand?

Pull out your fangs?

The prince unhappily raised his head and looked at the night sky.

"I suppose you are going to say my father forced you into all this, yes?"

When it comes to that, I understand too well.

Lee raised an extremely uncomfortable mechanical smile, neither admitting nor denying it.

"If Your Highness can understand, that is naturally best..."

"Enough, enough, enough..."

Thales did not want to keep tangling with him over formalities and went straight to the point.

"Speak. That Lausanne the Second. What exactly is his relationship with you? How did he hook up with Federico? What is his true objective..."

Thales's words paused. He discovered that from this moment, Lee's entire person had frozen in place, unmoving.

As if he had fallen into thought.

No matter what Thales said, there was no reaction at all.

Really?

Playing dead like this?

Thales took a deep breath.

"Fine. Well, thank you for secretly warning me earlier so I did not fall into Yannik's trap. I will remember that favor..."

But Lee still did not move in the slightest.

More still than a stone statue.

Thales had no choice but to speak with earnest patience.

"Please. He has already left. Your Nation of Night has shown its might and kept its face..."

Give me a little substance too!

Lee still had no reaction.

"What happened? Asleep? Meditating? Hey, hey. Hey!"

Thales could not help reaching out and waving before his eyes.

"Hello... dawn is here... the sun is out... Selina is here... Lanly revived... Katerina fell from power..."

The next moment, Lee suddenly raised his head.

Thales jumped in fright.

"Very good. Now I can be certain that that fourth-generation junior has left the maximum range of eavesdropping," Lee said dryly.

Thales froze, then understood and nearly choked with anger.

"Just for that? You, next time can you not..."

But Lee seemed to understand timing very well. He spoke before the prince's anger could erupt.

"As far as I know, Lausanne the Second obtained at least one piece of source blood while alive, consumed it himself, and successfully reincarnated. Do you know what source blood is?"

Thales paused.

Source blood.

"Of course. Who does not know source blood?" Thales said lightly.

"This is why Lausanne the Second has neither elder nor kin in the Nation of Night. No guidance, no discipline. He is a born stray," Lee said solemnly.

A born stray.

Born under an unlucky star?

Thales sighed.

"Fine. Then which old fellow outside the Nation of Night gave him source blood? On whose orders? Any connections or favors..."

"It was not given by a bloodkin."

Thales froze.

"What?"

Lee shook his head and spoke slowly.

"Normally, source blood can only be condensed by powerful bloodkin, and it evaporates and loses effect within a short time..."

His gaze chilled.

"But what Lausanne the Second consumed was the only kind of solid source blood that can leave the bloodkin shell, be preserved long-term in a vessel, and keep its effect from weakening."

"Solid source blood?"

Thales reacted.

"Which means Yannik was wrong. There are still people in the world who can use source blood that has drifted outside..."

"However, solid source blood is not something bloodkin themselves can make, nor dare make."

Lee interrupted him. The count was grave and icy at this moment, making Thales unconsciously fold his arms.

"It was created by the alchemists of the old Alchemy Tower, using cruel special methods and expensive tools, at the cost of the life of one or even many bloodkin..."

Thales widened his eyes.

Lee's tone was calm, but he closed his eyes.

"...forcibly extracted from our race, living and bloody."

What?

Extracted at the cost of life...

Wait. He just said...

"You mean, mages?" Thales said in shock.

Lee nodded, fear lingering in his eyes.

"Just like Everlasting Oil squeezed, processed, and synthesized from the bodies of Everlasting Whales."

"Mages. Extraction. Life. Solid source blood..."

Thales murmured for several seconds.

He reacted.

"But back then, why did the Alchemy Tower's mages do this? Capture a bloodkin and... research? Or simple hatred?"

"Profit," Lee said softly.

"Source blood is precious because it can preserve the essence and vitality of life. Used on ordinary people, it can cure terminal illness, revive the living dead, flesh white bones, even prolong youth and lifespan."

Cure terminal illness, revive the living dead, flesh white bones, prolong life, preserve youth...

Thales measured the meaning of these words and grew increasingly shocked.

Lee sighed with his eyes closed.

"During the imperial age, and even after the War of Eradication, before the Convention of the Human Nations and the Long-Lived Species was signed, many people, often great figures, kings, nobles, generals, and ministers among them, were willing to pay heavily for source blood. They hunted my race."

His face was full of grief.

"Thus many bloodkin did not end well."

Thales was silent for a long time.

Lee opened his eyes.

"But in summary, Lausanne the Second is not a direct descendant created by us. That he reincarnated through solid source blood itself represents the tragedy of other kinsmen."

He looked at Thales.

"When Jade City changed drastically that year, he brought Federico to the Eastern Continent. When he found us by instinct, he was already bloodkin."

Thales's brow moved.

"You mean he brought Federico over?"

"Of course."

Of course.

Thales snorted inwardly.

Of course you would say that.

In short, it has nothing to do with you Corleones. They simply came to your door, you could not bear it, and passively sheltered them.

"In the end, this is still trouble you caused," the prince said unhappily.

Lee said nothing.

"So he truly is, as Yannik said, a stray with no elder?"

"Worse than that," Lee said, once more seizing Thales's attention.

The Far Eastern bloodkin looked far down at the battle beneath the watchtower.

"When he consumed the source blood, his original intention was to save himself and survive a bitter battle he could not pass. But an accident occurred. He died within a short time, and that activated the source blood, beginning transformation."

"So his transformation was an accident."

Thales followed the rhythm and frowned.

"Lausanne the Second... was not even prepared to become bloodkin?"

"Precisely," Lee nodded. "Thus, he is not merely a stray. He is also a rejecter."

"A rejecter?"

Lee looked at Thales.

"Do you know that throughout history, there have been very few cases of supreme-class experts transforming into bloodkin?"

Thales recalled what Yannik had said and nodded.

"Yes."

"So back then, when we saw a case like Lausanne the Second, we were also quite surprised and excited."

Lee's tone grew heavier.

"But we soon discovered that rare precedents were rare for a reason. As a supreme-class expert, Lausanne the Second's identity and experience before reincarnation became his greatest obstacle."

"What obstacle?"

"He was unwilling to become bloodkin."

"Unwilling?"

Lee nodded.

"Although we placed high hopes on him, Lausanne the Second was rigid. He refused to let go of the past, refused to admit facts, disdained joining us, despised bloodkin identity, rejected our way of life, and insisted on finding back the feeling of being human. He practiced the sword every day without rest, almost madly.

"No matter how many times we persuaded him to be reborn and cast away the past, persuaded him that the Power of Eradication had long since left him, persuaded him that no matter how many ten thousand times he swung his sword it would never be as before, he refused to believe it. Even more, he refused to accept help and guidance, and regarded drinking blood and feeding as humiliation.

"The result was imaginable. He was captured by worsening blood thirst day after day, and even his mind gradually developed problems. We had no choice but to use the Dark Night Black Coffin to harmonize his spirit and calm the riot in his bloodline."

"In the end, he still refused to accept you?" Thales asked.

Lee shook his head.

"He refused to accept himself."

"Then what did you do?"

At this point, Lee could not help sighing.

"In the end, we had no choice but to painfully conclude: stubborn and lost as he was, he would never become one of us, nor would he willingly be used by us."

Painfully conclude?

Thales's brow jumped.

"You were not going to..."

"Correct."

Lee nodded without allowing doubt.

"For bloodkin, an uncontrolled rejecter with supreme-class combat consciousness, a sensitive identity, and created from terrifying solid source blood, is an enormous risk."

Killing intent spilled from the count's eyes.

"He had to be executed."

Executed.

Thales looked at him, then at the encirclement below, and sighed.

"Let me guess. Something went wrong with the execution?"

Lee nodded expressionlessly.

"Although his strength was no longer what it had been, Lausanne the Second was not willing to stretch out his neck and be killed. Though he had lost the Power of Eradication, he practiced the sword day and night and gradually worked out a force method suited to a bloodkin shell, recovering all of his profound swordsmanship. With the convenience of the shell, he even advanced further."

Thales sighed.

"An experimental white mouse caused trouble during disposal because the experiment made it stronger. Why am I not surprised at all?"

Lee did not understand his words and only continued:

"If that were all, it would be one thing. But what exceeded expectation was that in a life-and-death battle, he fell into madness and awakened an extremely rare mental anomalous ability, catching us unprepared. The execution team was annihilated."

Annihilated...

Thales said gravely:

"Demonic Murmur?"

Lee's eyes darkened.

"That name was given by Chris. In short, the situation went far beyond imagination. We paid a considerable price to plug the hole, capture the mad and out-of-control Lausanne the Second again, and separate his connection to the Black Coffin. Including ourselves, all the major families suffered heavy casualties in that battle. Quite a few older supreme-class kinsmen even had to sleep to heal their wounds, and have still not awakened."

"That exaggerated?"

"Amplified through the Black Coffin, his strange anomalous ability was only more exaggerated."

Lee raised his head and looked directly at Thales.

"Unfortunately, that also weakened the guards of the Blood Forbidden Prison, giving the unforgivable felon inside an opportunity."

The Blood Forbidden Prison...

"Felon..."

Thales muttered those words, and his expression suddenly changed drastically.

Could it be...

"Correct."

Lee's voice was steady, but his eyes were turbid.

"Not long after that, the felon bearing a monstrous crime, Selina Corleone, escaped from the Blood Forbidden Prison, left empty by weakened guards, with Chris's inside help. She also stole the Dark Night Black Coffin.

"Led by Her Majesty Katerina, our family crossed the sea in pursuit, all the way to the Birch Forest in your kingdom's north. We paid an even more painful price before barely retrieving the Black Coffin."

Lee looked at Thales, who was staring with his mouth open, and his attitude was humble.

"Of course, that part is something Your Highness presumably knows better than I do."

Knows.

Of course I know.

How could I not know?

Thales spent a long, long time digesting this chain of events.

Lausanne the Second was not only the chief culprit of this Jade City disaster.

Many years ago, had he even been the original cause of Thales's own misfortune in the Birch Forest?

Wonderful.

Caught up at last.

He rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

"Fuck."

Thales reacted with a shiver, no longer caring about polite speech.

"Then with such a blood feud and such a root of disaster, why are you still keeping Lausanne around? For the New Year? Why not hurry up and..."

Thales's words stopped abruptly.

Wait.

He looked at Lee's hollow eyes and suddenly understood.

"You fear him."

Thales recalled his own encounters with Lausanne the Second and murmured:

"Facing the most unique, strangest bloodkin individual in thousands of years. No, he may not even count as bloodkin."

He frowned.

"You are wary of him, and even less certain you can kill him?"

Lee lowered his head and avoided the question.

"The last reckless execution caused such a disaster. We suffered heavy losses, and all major families complained bitterly against the Corleones."

Though they had never supported us much to begin with.

"For the territory's safety, under Young Master Federico's mediation, we reached a compromise with Lausanne the Second. The process is not worth mentioning."

Thales took a deep breath.

He reorganized the secrets around Lausanne the Second.

And so in the end, he returned to the first question:

"Very well. Then how do we solve this now?"

Thales said with a headache:

"Are you telling me that above and below heaven, no one in this world can restrain..."

Lee interrupted him at the right moment again.

"Because of the terrible power he displayed, we specifically traced the source blood Lausanne the Second consumed."

His eyes were bright.

"And we finally confirmed its origin."

Thales's eyes lit up.

"Good. Then at least we have a clue. Whose source blood? Which bloodkin?"

Lee did not speak.

Thales had a bad guess.

"Could it be Nightwing King Lanly?"

Lee sighed softly.

"Higher."

Thales froze.

"Higher?"

Wait, wait, wait.

In this world, from childhood to adulthood, in everyone's understanding, what bloodkin was higher and more powerful than the Nightwing King?

Beneath the moonlight, Lee spoke solemnly:

"What he consumed, and what ultimately transformed him, was the source blood of the first long-lived species in the world, the progenitor of the bloodkin, Prince Philip Corleone."

Phili...

Who?

What first?

What progenitor?

"We speculate that Lausanne the Second's successful reincarnation as a supreme-class body, and the strange changes that appeared after reincarnation, all came from this. Prince Philip lived during the imperial age. The way they condensed source blood was more primitive and rough, unlike modern bloodkin who have absorbed countless experiences and become skilled and rule-bound."

Before Thales's dazed, doubtful, and disbelieving expression, Lee remained calm.

"But roughly speaking, the current Lausanne the Second, like myself, Her Majesty Katerina, and many family power holders, can be considered a second-generation bloodkin.

"More precisely, since the rule of the first-generation elders completely ended after the Unyielding Night, Lausanne the Second is the living bloodkin whose bloodline is closest to the progenitor himself, aside from His Majesty Lanly.

"If one follows bloodkin tradition and law, apart from Prince Philip, who has vanished long ago, no bloodkin in this world, including His Majesty Lanly, has the authority, by virtue of bloodline seniority, to order him, restrain him, or reprimand him as a kin elder.

"Much less end him."

The abandoned watchtower was silent for a very, very long time.

"I do not understand."

Thales came back to himself and hurriedly asked:

"Lausanne the Second used to be only a mere gang killer. How did he obtain source blood worth ten thousand gold, even source blood belonging to the bloodkin progenitor? Behind him..."

"He refuses to say and refuses to cooperate. That was also the fuse that first made the clan leaders want to execute him," Lee said coldly.

Thales frowned.

"However, because the matter was so significant, we also investigated that source blood without pause," Lee continued. "We do not know from where it was taken or how it was refined.

"But we dug up some clues about how it flowed into mortal hands, and I was just about to examine them with Your Highness."

Thales swallowed.

"What clues?"

Lee studied him carefully.

"Decades ago, a great figure whose power shook the Western Continent was gravely injured and nearly dying."

The bloodkin spoke very slowly and observed very carefully.

"He searched heaven and earth for miraculous medicine."

Miraculous medicine...

Thales frowned.

Right. Source blood could revive the living dead and flesh white bones.

Lee continued:

"We have reason to believe that the mysterious and terrifying piece of solid source blood passed through many games and many hands among powerful figures, and eventually flowed to the Sacred Tree Kingdom.

"Then, from the sacred elves, it was handed to their most powerful ally in the human world."

The Sacred Tree Kingdom's most powerful... human ally?

Thales froze.

"Correct, Your Highness."

Lee bowed again.

"That precious solid source blood, originally belonging to Prince Philip and capable of reviving the living dead and fleshing white bones..."

He said coldly:

"Was originally prepared for your kingdom's crown prince, Midier Jadestar."

--------------------

"You still dare chase forward..."

Lausanne the Second stopped and turned around.

"What are you people?"

Unexpectedly, Lausanne the Second did not see any elite troops in fitted clothes or professional equipment.

Instead, it was a mismatched, pieced-together group.

Like defeated remnants.

"I am not important."

In the pursuing group, a swordsman in old leather armor gritted his teeth and stepped forward.

Lausanne the Second raised his eyes.

"But Tate Bischoff. Remember him? He was my friend. A very, very good friend," the swordsman stared hard at him, "until you used his name to sneak into the selection meeting and made him the laughingstock of all Jade City."

That?

Lausanne the Second shook his head disdainfully.

A friend's reputation.

Was that worth dying for?

"He was a commoner to begin with. With that kind of reputation and past, Tate... Tate can never become a knight now."

The swordsman endured his grief and anger.

"You took away his knightly dream."

Lausanne the Second fell silent.

A knight, is it?

Then that was for Tate's own good too.

The killer's gaze was cold:

If his dream was so cheap.

And childish.

"Hey, killer!"

On the other side, a muscular man also stepped forward and tightened the gloves and bladed fist-rings on his hands.

"Tanase, Sawyer, and Bolwin. Three boxers who died by your hand. Remember?"

Boxers?

Lausanne the Second frowned.

He realized he could not remember clearly.

These days, outside of "work," he locked himself indoors most of the time, only going to find, though he very much did not wish to think of it, blood sources when he truly could not endure. He usually chose those who were alone and looked vicious.

The rest was left to the monster.

Seeing his appearance, the muscular man gave a bleak laugh.

"Of course you do not remember."

The man's gaze was grief-stricken.

"Boxers' lives are cheap anyway. When they die, no one feels sorry."

Moreover, the muscular man thought, among them, Tanase had a sick brain. He fought illegal matches only because he wanted to buy a dowry for a sworn daughter who refused to acknowledge him.

Sawyer was an ex-convict. No matter what he had gone in for, after getting out, his life was ruined, and he could never find honest work again.

As for Bolwin, dragged down by his father, though he had done nothing, he was no different from an ex-convict.

They died, and no one remembered.

No one cared.

Jade City did not care either.

Lausanne the Second was silent for a few seconds, then turned his gaze to the man's fist-rings.

"You are a boxer too?"

"Yes. Worked under Gutierrez," the muscular boxer said with a cold laugh. "But not anymore."

Fuck the Blood Bottle Gang.

The boxer thought.

So many boxers dead, and they do not ask or care.

They only use us like animals.

"What relationship did the three dead men have with you?"

The boxer sneered and clenched his fist-rings.

"None of your business."

Lausanne the Second frowned.

"I, I dig... dig shit. Dig shit."

The third speaker was a silly-looking young man. He spoke in broken phrases, held a rusty iron pick, and shrank back when he saw Lausanne the Second's eyes.

"But Dad said if you owe someone, you have to pay it back."

Lausanne the Second narrowed his eyes.

"You owe me?"

"I owed Boss Rob."

Rob.

Lausanne the Second's mind moved.

In the Blood Bottle Gang, that dung-worker headman who valued brotherhood.

"But long ago, Boss Rob's boss owed me," Lausanne the Second sneered. "Who will repay me?"

The silly young man froze for several seconds, flustered.

"Ah, he owed him, he owed you, I owed him, then I, I, I..."

His face was written with "what do I do," and he calculated in terror for a while before timidly making a decision.

"I... I pay him back first."

Lausanne the Second smiled disdainfully.

"With that kind of character, your father was willing to let you come?"

The silly one was silent for several seconds and lowered his head in grievance.

"Dad died digging shit."

"Boss Rob paid to bury him."

Lausanne the Second's smile slowly vanished.

From another direction, a strong female warrior, dragging a long spear and an injured leg, limped forward with difficulty.

Lausanne the Second felt she looked somewhat familiar.

"Dorselan fought you," she said through pain. "You are stronger than Dorselan. Far, far, far stronger."

Lausanne the Second did not understand her words. It seemed to be a peninsula dialect from the southern Eastern Continent, greatly separated from the common tongue.

But that did not stop him from seeing the fighting spirit in her eyes.

No, not only fighting spirit.

Resolve.

"But Dorselan came from Red Earth and bears the hope of the entire village."

The female warrior gripped her weapon tightly, took a deep breath, and spoke in the hometown language no one understood.

Yes. She was the hope of the entire village.

Dorselan had to earn money to repay Governor Hanbur's debt.

A debt so large that even using all the counting beads in the village, the elder could not count it clearly.

So Dorselan could not retreat.

Whether she reached the top eight of the selection meeting and took the prize money.

Or killed this swordsman and took the bounty.

As long as that happened...

The village would no longer need to sell children to Governor Hanbur to pay debts.

"I do not know this country woman whose shoulders are thicker than her legs, and I do not understand her dialect," the muscular boxer hissed. "But guess what? I like her."

Lausanne the Second looked around at these "defeated remnants" surrounding him from front and back, looked at the resolve in each of their eyes, and shook his head.

"You will die."

Many of them laughed.

He did not need to repeat it a second time.

Because they had already rushed forward.

Without looking back.

Clang!

Lausanne the Second blocked the female warrior's long spear.

The scene was chaotic, but victory and defeat were clear.

Among them, there was no expert a cut above the rest, no one like Mallos who excelled at formation coordination and on-site command, and not the slightest cooperation or tacit understanding.

They relied purely on one cavity of hot blood...

To throw away their lives.

The first to die was the swordsman who came for the friend Lausanne impersonated. What was that friend's name again?

Boom!

Lausanne the Second blocked the silly kid's iron pick and, without any flourish, turned his hand and pierced the swordsman's fragile abdomen.

"That friend of yours was not worth it," Lausanne the Second said coldly.

The swordsman realized something. He loosened his longsword, tears filling his eyes.

His empty eyes looked blankly at Lausanne the Second, and his lips trembled.

"He was worth it," the swordsman softly spoke his last words.

Lausanne the Second was about to draw the sword with disdain, but at that moment, when he saw the unconscious curve of the swordsman's mouth and that resolute yet relieved smile, he suddenly understood something.

That Tate might not have been worth it.

But love was.

Lausanne the Second froze.

Because in this age, this was the only way.

Shouts rose behind him.

In that instant, Lausanne the Second felt a strange emotion well up in his chest.

It was not blood thirst.

Yet it far surpassed blood thirst.

The next second, Lausanne the Second, inexplicably furious, roared and ripped his blade out of the swordsman's abdomen.

Boring.

Boring!

He repelled Dorselan, spun, and his longsword fiercely slashed sideways.

Clang!

Where the blade passed, a raised iron pick broke in two.

Broken at the same time were the silly young man's arms.

The latter looked in confusion at the red spurting from his severed arms, then at the bloodline gradually opening across his chest, and suddenly trembled.

"Owed, owed, owed Boss Ro... Rob. Have to pay, pay, pay back..."

He widened his eyes and muttered.

"You have nothing, fool."

Lausanne the Second swept ruthlessly past the young man and knocked his upper body away with his shoulder.

"What will you use to pay?"

The silly young man split in two and fell to the ground, his murmurs growing smaller and smaller.

But Lausanne the Second's bloodkin hearing still captured the threadlike last words without missing a bit:

"Use... life... to pay..."

Lausanne the Second could not help closing his eyes.

This damned body.

Damned hearing.

And this self-righteous idiot.

Why did he simply not understand?

Rob did not want him to repay anything at all.

Whoosh!

The sound of wind attacked.

Lausanne the Second did not need to open his eyes. As if knowing before it happened, he dodged the boxer's attack and thrust straight at the female warrior.

Dorselan roared, opened the distance, and prepared to sweep with the spear.

A very good response.

If her leg had not been injured.

Lausanne the Second's wrist trembled lightly.

Hiss!

With a soft muffled sound, the female warrior was struck in the neck.

She propped herself up with the spear, unable to believe the heat pouring out.

But the next second, Dorselan took a deep breath, gritted her teeth, and advanced instead of retreating despite the blood flowing from her neck.

Clang!

Lausanne the Second deflected her final spear strike and watched her slowly collapse.

"You are a warrior," he said softly, forcing down the tremor in his hoarse voice.

The female warrior did not understand him.

She only looked at the ground, smelling earth completely unlike the red soil of her homeland.

It is fine.

The female warrior slowly closed her eyes.

Dorselan failed.

But there are others.

May the Red God protect them.

The other sisters, the other brave and fearless god-blessed war wives heading toward different destinations...

Every one of them...

Is the hope of the entire village.

They... can do it, right?

Clang!

Lausanne the Second turned and used the body of his sword to take a heavy punch solidly, retreating two steps.

Clang!

Another punch struck, raising sparks on the steel fist-ring.

Lausanne the Second struck in time and counterattacked with the momentum, but facing the blade, the muscular boxer only instinctively stepped forward and smashed a fist.

Clang!

Fist and sword met, sparks spraying.

Unable to open distance, Lausanne the Second frowned. The other party was reckless and unreasonable, ignoring offense and defense, blind to his possible injuries, only approaching step by step and roaring as he threw punch after punch.

Clang!

Some punches struck empty; some were blocked.

Clang, clang, clang!

Lausanne the Second gritted his teeth.

In terms of strength, this boxer was inferior to the swordsmen or hunters before him. Every punch was conventional and proper.

It was the style of underground boxing rings.

But...

Lausanne the Second looked at this man, eyes red, caring about nothing and only punching forward with one mind.

This boxer had one point more terrifying than everyone before him.

He was not only unafraid of death.

He was good at trading life for life.

This point alone made him a hundred times more dangerous than all the people before him who blindly sent themselves to death, even more dangerous than certain supreme-class experts who were satisfied with their current state and cherished their reputation.

Fisso could even gather this kind of person...

No wonder he was the largest drug lord boss in the Kingdom of Stars.

Lausanne the Second narrowed his eyes.

But this ended here.

The next second, he changed swordsmanship. The body of his sword rubbed against the fist-ring, sticking to the opponent's fist with a strange force.

Wham! Wham!

He wielded the sword like drawing a violin bow, and exerted force like sawing wood. With only two strokes, he drew wounds down the boxer's arm so deep bone was visible.

The boxer cried out in pain, his punching momentum weakened, and Lausanne the Second seized the opening and pierced his chest.

It was over.

But at the same time, Lausanne the Second suddenly opened his eyes wide, pushed the boxer away, and flicked his blade.

Clang! Clang!

The sound of metal colliding came from the night sky. A figure grunted, swept over Lausanne the Second's head, and rolled to the ground.

This feeling of crossing hands...

Lausanne the Second lowered his head, looked at the knife wound on his wrist as it rapidly recovered, and turned again toward the uninvited guest.

"Black Silk?"

On the other side, Layork struggled to stand and also looked at his wrist. His wound was larger than Lausanne the Second's.

"Your distance control is the best. Your attack is also the most cautious, and most patient."

Lausanne the Second pondered for a while.

"It seems you understand me better than they do."

Layork gave a cold laugh and stared back without showing weakness.

"Yes. Maybe too well."

Lausanne the Second shook his head and raised his sword.

"Not well enough."

"I know I cannot kill you. I am just curious."

Layork clutched his arm and gritted his teeth.

"Other than being able to fight," the silent killer hissed, "what about a thing like you is worthy of her?"

Lausanne the Second froze.

The next second, Layork turned and withdrew, vanishing into the alley.

Lausanne the Second looked in the direction his enemy had gone, blank and dazed.

What did he say?

Pop!

Lausanne the Second turned his head. The boxer, on his last breath, pressed his wound and shakily stood, grabbing Lausanne's clothes.

The bloodkin killer shook his head and prepared to leave.

"They and I..."

Lausanne the Second paused.

"What?"

"They..."

The boxer used his last strength and said faintly:

"Did not beat me to death."

Lausanne the Second froze.

What?

Yes.

In a trance, the boxer thought: that year, after he fled disaster to Jade City with no food or drink and was tricked by the Blood Bottle Gang's swindlers into a life-and-death boxing ring...

They, the boxers, the fools and ex-convicts...

They did not beat him to death.

Facing a foreign beggar with no strength to bind a chicken, on his last breath and bleeding all over his face, amid the urging cries of lords and ladies filling the arena, they silently lowered their bloodstained fists.

They did not, like other boxers, for that considerable "blood bonus"...

Beat him to death alive.

"They died, and no one remembers..."

Not even the Blood Bottle Gang cared.

"But that is fine..."

The boxer closed his eyes.

"I... remember."

I remember.

Lausanne the Second was silent.

"You, boxer," he said softly. "What is your name?"

The boxer lifted his head with difficulty.

"I... I..."

He forced out a miserable smile.

The next second, the boxer released the hand covering his wound.

Thud!

His fist struck Lausanne the Second hard in the side of the face.

The force was so great that Lausanne's vision blurred and his eardrums roared.

The next second, the boxer released Lausanne the Second, fell to the ground, and died.

Lausanne the Second was battered badly. The blades on the fist-ring had cut his face open and bloody, and even half his nose had fallen.

But he was neither angry nor annoyed. He only looked silently at the boxer on the ground and let the wound on his face recover at flying speed.

"I see. I will remember."

Lausanne the Second slowly nodded.

"Your name is Boxer."

Lausanne the Second raised his feet and stepped over countless bodies: the nameless swordsman, the silly young man, Dorselan, Boxer...

For a moment, he suddenly missed the monsters inside his body.

Missed that blood thirst.

Because when they rioted, he did not have to feel more sensations and emotions.

Injured... ground... blood...

The thought had just arrived when the monster spoke at the right time.

Shut up.

Lausanne the Second solemnly sheathed his sword and walked forward.

Across the ground full of fresh blood, human fresh blood that gave off pure fragrance and temptation.

As if they could no longer influence him in the slightest.

Lausanne the Second stepped onto a small road and sensed the nearby bounty hunters fleeing like a tide.

The encirclement was silent as a graveyard.

That should be all.

Lausanne the Second thought silently.

No matter how high a price Fisso and Little Blade offered, after seeing this place littered with corpses and so many precedents, aside from fools throwing away their lives for all kinds of reasons, no one should dare...

"Stop right there!"

A sudden loud shout broke the silent moonlit night.

Full of breath.

Yet unable to hide exhaustion.

Lausanne the Second raised his eyes.

"I am..."

A young man covered in dust and wounds, struggling to carry a greatsword, appeared before him, swaying as if he might collapse.

"I am..."

The young man trembled, gasped, and coughed several times before steadying his mind and shouting at the empty street:

"I am the Hundred-Step Ranger, Komuto!"

The familiar opponent trembled. He raised that ill-fitting greatsword, its point aimed straight at the bloodkin killer.

"I will rid the people of evil and eliminate violence to protect the good!"

Lausanne the Second closed his eyes.