Chapter 298: Herbert

"Fuck!"

"How is this a Holy Knight!!?"

"Who let him in!!?"

At this moment, even the biggest fool should understand the true identity of the boy before them.

Holy Knight.

Fuck, where the hell did this insane Holy Knight come from!!?

Does he have no sense of self-preservation?

Does he truly believe he can judge all of us?

Do you think you're a legendary Holy Knight?

"Fool!"

A tall, thin merchant roared in fury: "Die!"

His eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging on his forehead, clutching a dagger tightly as he swung it toward Herbert, stumbling forward.

"Kill him!"

A merchant with a scar across his face roared, drawing a longsword from his waist, its blade shimmering with eerie red light.

They radiated thick waves of bloodlight, charging at Herbert without regard for their lives, shouting vile curses, their usual masks and composure shattered by rage.

The other merchants snapped back to their senses—some panicked, glancing around for hidden threats, while most ordered their guards to protect them immediately.

This place is about to erupt.

A foolish Holy Knight who doesn't know his own strength is no threat—the real danger is the other "companions"!

Someone will surely take advantage of the chaos to betray and steal!

Before the furious slave merchants could strike, thick bloodlight erupted from their bodies.

Hum—

One after another, waves of bloodlight piled atop one another, making the entire space feel drenched in blood, oozing crimson.

Or perhaps, it was not merely metaphor.

For every luxurious decoration here, every gemstone embedded, even every brick, every beam!

All were stained with the blood of slaves.

They were slave merchants, those who trampled human lives underfoot and put price tags on them.

Because of them, countless families were torn apart.

Because of them, countless people were displaced.

Because of them, countless innocent lives lost their freedom, had their dignity stripped, and became lowly slaves.

Slave merchants are the very type of people Holy Knights despise most.

They are sinners.

They are evil that must be eradicated!

All knew there was no room for compromise between them.

You die, I live!

"Kill him! Kill him!!!"

Facing the frenzied attackers rushing toward him, Herbert's lips curled slightly, revealing a sneer.

"If only you could face reality, I wouldn't have to go through all this trouble."

He raised his hand and slowly drew his longsword from his belt.

Clang—

With a light shake, sacred runes appeared along the blade, glowing like tidal waves, dispelling the surrounding darkness.

This sword, originally unenchanted, had been inscribed with deep-sea runes by Fu Leimei, then blessed by Flora.

Though its exterior remained plain, its essence had become utterly different from before.

The first to reach Herbert, the tall thin merchant, swung his dagger in a vicious stab—Herbert merely sidestepped gracefully, like a swallow in flight, and extended his left hand to grasp the man's arm.

"Your movements are full of openings."

In the blink of an eye, Herbert shook his head in regret, his fingers pinching lightly—dislocating the man's joint.

Crack.

Then he swung hard—the tall merchant flew like a severed kite, crashing into a table and shattering it to splinters.

"Ah!"

Immediately after, the scarred merchant seized the chance, swinging his longsword with a whistling rush toward Herbert's neck.

Clang.

This time, Herbert did not dodge—he stood firm, letting the blade strike his neck directly.

Clang!!!

When steel met flesh, a metallic clash rang out!

"What!?" The scarred merchant's snarl froze; he stared in shock at the smiling boy.

"Friend, didn't you eat?"

As Herbert mocked, he calmly raised his sword, precisely blocking a sneak attack from behind.

Clang!

The two blades clashed with a shrill metallic ring—but far less shocking than before.

The attacker felt a tremendous force surge through his dagger, numbing his arm, forcing him to his knees, his knees slamming hard into the ground.

"No…"

In the guard's panic, Herbert pressed his advantage, swinging his sword backward without looking back, the blade tracing a graceful arc through the air before coming down in a vicious chop.

Hiss—thud!

The head hit the ground.

A spray of blood!

"High-rank! No! He's a high-rank Holy Knight!"

At the critical moment of life and death, the scar-faced merchant sobered up considerably, shouting as he scrambled backward, but he was still a step too slow—the returning blade sliced across his shoulder, sending fresh blood flying.

"Ah!"

He screamed, fear showing on his face, the earlier arrogance completely gone.

His shrill scream made the slave merchants, who had not taken Herbert seriously at all, suddenly narrow their pupils.

High-rank!?

Seeing Herbert's age, they had naturally assumed him to be a greenhorn Holy Knight fresh out of the nest, and hadn't taken him seriously at all.

They thought Herbert was nothing but a Bai Chi full of hot blood but no brains!

So, upon realizing his identity, what they felt was not fear, but anger.

Anger that he hadn't taken them seriously at all!

But now… high-rank!?

This is a high-rank Holy Knight!

You have to know, among their guards, the strongest was only mid-rank! And there were only a handful of them!

And the Holy Knight is a very well-rounded class, generally powerful.

A high-rank Holy Knight against mid- and low-rank evil-faction professionals was truly a tiger among sheep—nothing short of a slaughter!

However, after a brief shock, they weren't particularly flustered.

"Damned Holy Knight, this isn't the place for you to throw your weight around!"

The scar-faced man sat sprawled on the ground, shouting with a bold front but a cowardly heart: "Get out of here right now! Otherwise…"

Clang.

The blade swept through, seemingly gently taking his head.

Herbert tilted his head, smiling as he asked the dead sinner whose eyes would not close: "Otherwise? Will someone come to judge me?"

Just as Herbert was preparing to further clean out the vermin, a low roar suddenly came from beneath the ground.

Roar!!!

"Oh?"

Herbert's steps paused, and he blinked in surprise.

An unexpected harvest too?

Crack!

The next moment, the floor split apart, and a figure burst up from underground, landing heavily on the ground.

"Roar!!!"

His form was enormous, twice the height of an ordinary person, his entire body shrouded in a layer of black smoke, within which red light flickered from time to time, like flames from hell.

A thick sulfurous stench, accompanied by a powerful foul odor, spread out, filling the entire space with a blasphemous atmosphere.

"You bunch of idiots, how dare you run wild on Goen's turf!!?"

The figure roared, his voice echoing through the tavern like muffled thunder, numbing people's innards.

"Phew, great, he's not asleep!"

"Thank goodness the 【Berserker】 hasn't gone out, phew…"

But upon seeing this terrifying figure, the merchants breathed a sigh of relief, one after another stopping their attacks, expressions of awe and relief mingled on their faces.

This was their confidence.

Could these fellows really sit together so peacefully just because of customary rules?

What a joke.

Without absolute power as a guarantee, they would have long since started preying on each other!

【Berserker · Goen】!

This legendary powerhouse who had ruled this camp for three hundred years was the real reason they sat down and talked properly.

He had always hidden in the tavern, providing shelter for the slave merchants while also collecting Gao Ang profits.

With this my lord here, no one could turn the world upside down!

A high-rank Holy Knight?

Heh!

Nowhere near enough!

Facing this powerful being, Herbert furrowed his brow tightly, his expression quite serious.

He stared at this fellow, carefully analyzing—very eager to figure out exactly what this fellow was?

"This aura… a legendary demon?"

"Hmm, no, even one who just entered legendary wouldn't be this weak, and the demonic aura wouldn't be this thin."

Once all the clues were combined, the answer was clear.

"So, a pseudo-legendary demon-blooded half-breed?"

Pseudo-legendary—a realm between high-rank and legendary, forcibly reached through special means.

The strength was indeed stronger than high-rank, but only marginally so.

As for comparing with legendary… don't even go there, go play wherever you like.

"... That's it?"

After ascertaining the opponent's background, Herbert sneered, suddenly finding the whole thing boring.

So this is your confidence?

This guy—let alone having Elisa act, even if he himself put in a little more effort, he could handle him easily.

Besides, Herbert caught another key word and proactively spoke to Gorn: "Hey, you're also a 【Wrathbringer】?"

"Huh?"

Gorn had been snarling at the slave traders, planning to exploit this opportunity to extort them thoroughly, and had paid no attention to Herbert.

But now, this kid not only didn't run—he actually initiated conversation with him!?

He turned back, glaring at Herbert, bellowing: "What!? Do you have a problem with Lord Gorn!?"

"I AM a Wrathbringer!!!"

Feeling the foul breath rushing at him, Herbert narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

He shook his head with a sigh, muttering to himself: "No, I just feel glad I didn't bring Valentina along."

"If Valentina saw you sharing the same title as her, she'd be furious… this place would probably turn to ash."

No need to think—Valentina would've exploded on the spot if she were here.

What the hell is your status, to take the same name as me!?

Herbert's unhidden contempt deeply wounded Gorn, making him even angrier, and he roared louder.

"What's that look for!?"

He swung a punch, deciding to crush this damn insect first, then extort the remaining traders.

"Die!"

But Gorn froze in shock—his massive fist had been stopped barehanded by the boy!?

"Sorry, uh… did you even try?" the boy asked, bewildered.

"Hmph!"

Gorn first blinked, then burst into laughter: "Strong! But you think this little strength can defeat me? Holy Knight!"

The demon-blooded halfbreed laughed wildly; the air around him twisted, and several black shadowy tentacles emerged from his shadowed feet, reaching for Herbert.

"Oh? Shadow tentacles?"

Herbert regarded the shadow tentacles with curious interest.

But before the tentacles could close in and bind Herbert, several darker, thicker tentacles shot out from beneath his own feet, pinning them instantly—and they melted back into the shadows.

The Goddess of Harmony voiced a silent thought in Herbert's mind: 【"This guy's bloodline power is pathetically weak."】

Herbert silently sneered.

You stole someone else's tentacles and now you're complaining they're not strong enough? That's just rude!

Thinking this, Herbert apologized to Gorn: "Sorry."

Gorn:???

Wait, why the hell are you apologizing?

No!

Where are my tentacles!?

Two of his prized abilities effortlessly undone, Gorn's pride cracked—he laughed bitterly in rage: "You! Good, good! Just wait—"

But before Gorn could act again, a terrifying blood-red radiance, deeper than any before, erupted after being suppressed for so long.

Hummm!!!

As the ink-dark crimson light swept through, the entire space seemed to plunge into the deepest abyss.

The crimson light smothered all sound.

In the chilling silence, only a light footstep echoed.

Tap… tap… tap…

A figure in a dark crimson court gown, her face veiled in black silk, walked slowly to Herbert's side.

She was the source of all the crimson light.

Plop.

As she passed, Gorn—who had just been boasting and preparing to unleash his true power—shattered instantly into a pool of pus and blood.

In an instant, the "legend" who had ruled this camp for three centuries vanished, leaving not even a final word.

After casually doing this, Elisa turned to the utterly stunned traders.

"Hey, you lot of insects."

Elisa looked down with contempt at the slave traders, her voice cold and haughty: "What do you intend to do?"

"You disgusting insects, dare to lay hands on him?"

Her scarlet eyes blazed like brilliant stars, piercing the slave traders' hearts like blades.

"Did you even ask me?"

Behind her, Herbert stared in surprise at the now utterly commanding Vampire Young Lady.

It felt… strangely unfamiliar.

But Herbert knew—this was perhaps the true Elisa. Well, one of her sides.

Under the stimulation of Evil Detection, Elisa's past memories were fully awakened.

The once bloodthirsty, terrifying 【Blood Vengeance Prince】 had returned.

Before Herbert, Elisa had always been restrained, acting like a comical, weakling fish.

But before these fools, she would show no restraint whatsoever.

This is an executioner who walks in the shadows, one who has taken the lives of countless of his own kind.

Her evil and terror far surpass those people!

"……"

Seemingly sensing Herbert's curious gaze, Elisa turned her head slightly, fixing him with a cold stare as her white hair fluttered.

"Tch!"

Then—the cool-for-only-three-seconds minion vampire pouted her lips and reverted to her usual embarrassing self.

Elisa muttered indignantly: "Don't think you've won, okay! I haven't surrendered yet! You're not my master! And I don't have a master either!"

"I don't!"

She stubbornly lifted her head, craned her neck, and declared loudly: "No one can become my master!"

"Not even the gods!!!"

That's right—this is the vampire Young Lady and her last bit of stubbornness.

I don't have a master!

Hmph, I definitely don't…

……

……

While Elisa was savagely venting her shame on those fortunate sinners, the considerate Herbert handed the stage over to her alone and made his way to the place where the slaves were being held.

Then…

"Hmm?"

"Where's Cyril?"

(End of chapter)