Chapter 312

Previously, you thought I was your enemy?

Wrong.

I'm actually your ally!

Now, you think I'm your ally?

Wrong again.

I'm actually your enemy!

Am I your enemy or your ally?

It never depends on you—it depends only on me.

I exist in a superposition of "enemy" and "ally," with extremely flexible boundaries.

This is Herbert's entire understanding of how to become an excellent "battlefield commander."

I don't care what you think—I care what I think! (Boss voice)

Herbert can be this arrogant solely because of his flight ability.

Carlo's spatial sealing artifact certainly restricts teleportation, but it doesn't prohibit flight.

The Shadow Realm is indeed hostile to external spellcasters, but Herbert's flight doesn't rely on magical power.

Don't ask. Ask and you'll be told: Holy Power is overpowered.

Stay out of the matter of the Holy Mark.

We Paladins are like this!

"Rest assured, both of you—I'll give you the best gaming experience possible!"

Guided by this philosophy, Herbert flew around the battlefield like an annoying mosquito, exploiting every opening.

Droning left, droning right—how delightful!

Though this harassment inflicts no real damage on the two Legendaries, it's… incredibly nauseating.

Mosquitoes are disgusting. Their buzzing is even more disgusting.

The most nauseating mosquito is the one you can see but can't hit, circling endlessly by your ear!

Carlo was driven into impotent rage.

Once, it even abandoned attacking the Bone Dragon, risking injury to turn and bite Herbert—but the moment it moved, Douglas seized the chance and struck a massive blow.

Douglas wanted to eliminate this annoying pest too, but he could never pass up any opportunity to severely wound Carlo.

As for Herbert's harassment, Douglas chose to endure it silently, not diverting attention to find an opportunity to cripple him outright.

On one hand, Douglas needed Herbert to harass Carlo and create openings for himself.

On the other hand, he remained ever vigilant for the vanished Vampire.

Where had that bastard gone?

That thought, like a sword hanging over his head, constantly prodded him, preventing any reckless move.

And for some reason, at this critical moment of life and death, he felt a flicker of exhaustion.

Controlling two Legendary-level undead creations was too draining—beyond his capacity—making him feel a sudden urge to sleep.

"Cough! No!"

He shook his head hard, banishing the dangerous thought from his mind, and focused entirely on fighting his enemies.

Douglas didn't notice that, as he shook his head, a faint irregular tremor stirred in the shadow beneath his feet.

He struggled to think of how he could fully cooperate with Herbert and the others to eliminate Carlo first.

"What leverage should I offer?"

"Also, should I even invite them to help stop the ritual?"

Yet Douglas never imagined that while he was pondering how to win Herbert over… Herbert was actively harassing Carlo.

Herbert, like a persistent mosquito, slipped messages into every gap between Carlo's attacks.

Yeah. Harassment messages.

"Friend, want to team up?"

"Judging by your appearance, you must be a loyal type—yet you're friends with humans!"

"And lucky for you, I'm the perfect candidate."

"I'm not just a humble, honest, trustworthy Paladin—I'm also a good friend of the Dragon, often exercising and playing games with her."

"Just accept it!"

"If you refuse, I'll go to the other side! We'll team up against you—you're finished for sure."

Herbert relentlessly harassed the Dog-Head Dragon, leaving shallow but persistent wounds across its body, again and again.

Yet for some reason, the Dog-Head Dragon didn't publicize this—it stayed silent, never revealing it to Douglas.

It endured silently, trying to catch Herbert and crush him.

After enduring for so long, failing to catch the mosquito countless times, the Dog-Head Dragon finally snapped.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

It roared to the sky, glaring at the white-haired boy hovering beyond attack range.

Don't you dare come closer!

Don't you dare let me catch you!

"Team up? What right do you have to talk teamwork with me?!"

Annoying as he was, he was just a presumptuous little insect.

Herbert wasn't angry—he lifted his longsword, gestured slightly, and said: "What makes me unqualified? Isn't my blade making your body weaker by the moment?"

Hss!

The giant dragon laughed in spite of itself, snorting, "You really think this will do anything to me!?"

These wounds don't mean anything at all — as long as it wishes, it can recover at any time!

"Really?"

Herbert smiled eerily, taunting, "Really useless? Why don't you try it?"

"How could it possibly… what?" Karlo sneered, wanting to regenerate, but quickly froze.

After it actively tried to regenerate, astonishingly, nothing happened at all.

Nothing happened.

At some unknown point, the wounds Herbert had stabbed could no longer heal — the Holy Light power flowing within them suppressed regeneration.

Moreover, there was no longer any blood left in its body!

"What!?"

What had happened?

"Oh right, I think instead of worrying about all this, you'd better seize the opportunity right in front of you."

Herbert smiled, pointed at Douglas on the other side, and chuckled lowly, "You want to kill him, don't you?"

In the direction the youth pointed, Douglas was now frozen to the ground in an eerie posture with his head lowered.

Not only him — the undead constructs he controlled were also frozen in place.

His eyes were half-closed, as if he had entered a dream.

"Douglas!"

Karlo didn't know what had happened to the necromancer, but it knew this was the best chance to act.

And at this critical moment, the dog-headed giant dragon could no longer afford to consider these things — it had to seize this last chance.

It cast everything aside and charged recklessly toward Douglas, who was bound in place.

"... Ah!"

And the instant the dog-headed giant dragon reached him, Douglas suddenly opened his eyes — he had awakened from that absurd, terrifying dream.

Just now, he had been pulled into an absurd dream, dreaming of the days when he was still a slave.

He recalled how he had been chosen by Stila at death's door and allowed to live.

He also remembered the shock of discovering that Stila was in fact the murderer who had killed his family.

He also recalled how, even knowing all this, he had still willingly knelt at her feet.

All of it dragged him deeper and deeper into the dream, making it harder and harder to wake.

Until finally, he dreamed of Stila's gaze the first time she performed the ritual and became Its chosen.

That terrifying gaze jolted him awake from the dream.

But even after finally waking, it was already far too late.

The dog-headed giant dragon's maw was right before his eyes — he had no chance to dodge at all.

He was going to die.

This time, he really was going to die.

In the instant death descended, Douglas offered no further resistance, but let out a piercing wail devoid of any discernible emotion.

"Stila!!!"

After his roar, he looked toward Gao Ta, trying to find those cold eyes.

But he saw nothing at all.

That Lady was not standing on the balcony watching any of this unfold.

In the end, he still could not stop his master, could not change anything.

In fact, before he could fully betray her, his master had already betrayed him first.

His vision went black — he was swallowed straight into the giant dragon's mouth.

Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!

"Pah!"

After a bout of wanton chewing, Karlo spat him straight out.

The bitten-to-shreds Douglas did not turn into a ghoul upon death — instead his body gradually crumbled, becoming a wisp of black qi that surged toward the center of the city.

The ritual had begun at some unknown point.

The loser became the Sacrifice, becoming part of the ritual.

And the winner's condition was not much better either.

"No, no!"

"I can't die here!"

After its brutal victory, the dog-headed giant dragon did not stay to take revenge on the culprit who had left it in such a miserable state.

Instead, it chose to run without hesitation.

It flapped its wings — which Herbert had stabbed seven or eight holes in during the harassment — and laboriously flew toward Gao Ta where the lord's manor stood.

Its entire body was covered in wounds, but no blood flowed from them — its blood had been quietly drained dry by Elisha.

And just as Karlo was about to reach its destination, a figure slowly walked out from the balcony of Gao Ta.

She was a voluptuous, regal-looking Lady — the supreme ruler of this evil city.

"Stila!"

Upon seeing Stila, Karlo breathed a sigh of relief and shouted, "I need to rest! Don't disturb me for a short while!"

It transformed back into a black giant hound, slammed onto the balcony, and began panting with effort.

It had been hurt too badly this time — it had nearly perished completely, and even the blessing granted to it by the Depraved Desire had almost failed to save it.

It could not figure out what kind of power that youth carried on him, power enough to suppress its regeneration.

But no matter what, it was finally safe now, able to catch its breath, and could go make trouble for them later.

"Rest?"

Stella stared at it, shook her head slightly, and with the gentlest tone chuckled softly: "Sorry, you can't rest yet."

"What did you say?"

Kalo strained to widen his eyes, bared his fangs, and said: "You think I can help you kill anyone looking like this?"

Stella smiled, a faint grin on her lips, and whispered lightly: "Don't worry, the last task isn't hard."

"The third task of our contract — the final one — has already been decided."

She said:

"Kalo, my dear good doggy, offer up everything you have for our lord."

And upon hearing Stella's words, Kalo froze for a moment, then roared in uncontrollable fury: "You… you said… what?"

"What kind of joke is this! How could I possibly agree!?"

The dog-headed dragon rolled itself upright, bellowing in rage, savagely gnawing at its own withered flesh.

Bound by the contract, it could not attack Stella, and could only vent its fury in this way.

"I won't agree! The contract clearly says — if I don't agree, you can't force me!"

Facing this, Stella appeared very calm, and asked in return: "Kalo, do you really think you have the right to choose?"

"Ignorant lamb, do you really think a Miss Xie Shen's blessing is that easy to take?"

She bent down, leaned in before the dog's head, and gazed at this twisted creature.

"Every gift carries its price."

She raised her hand, stroked the black giant hound's dog-head, and whispered ruthlessly: "You have enjoyed our lord's blessing — it is time to repay it."

"You will become the Sacrifice, completing the ritual's final link."

"This is not me demanding you give your life — it is you yourself, willingly, becoming the Sacrifice."

Sweet and icy words, like a dagger coated in sugar-frost, slipped gently into the ear.

"I… I am willing… no, no, no! I am not willing!"

The black giant hound violently shook its head, broke free of Stella's hand, twisted around and leapt down from Gao Ta, transforming back into a dragon mid-air, and flew toward the outside of the city.

It had to escape this place!

That woman had gone completely mad.

But just as it had flown halfway, it suddenly let out a piercing wail of agony.

"Roooar—"

Its heart seemed to be squeezed by an invisible giant hand, crushed outright.

The dragon fell helplessly from the sky, crashing into the city center where a great crowd had gathered.

Boom!

And faced with such a thunderously falling giant, the crowd — who should have been terrified and panicked — after a brief stunned pause, actually burst into joyous revelry.

"A gift!"

"It's a gift bestowed by the gods!"

"Meat! Meat! Meat!"

They surged forward like a swarm of ants that had found meat, clawing and biting with hands and feet alike in a frenzy.

When they could not bite through the dragon scales, they sought out the wounds and tore; some even shoved half their bodies inside.

Tearing, devouring — even as their bellies swelled, they kept on swallowing.

The ritual was already running in full; they had already become one link of the ritual.

This was a blasphemous revelry.

This was a degenerate feast.

"…"

Herbert fell silent, watching all of this quietly.

However, he was not sighing over the madness before his eyes, nor over witnessing the dog-headed dragon's wretched death.

He did not care at all whether Stella had betrayed it, whether she had deceived it… that simply did not matter.

The reason he was silent was entirely because he had seen something else.

At this moment, cradled in Stella's arms, there was a head.

It was the fair head of a dark-elf woman.

Her eyes were quietly closed, as if she were merely asleep.

"That… is… Vilelmeya?" From behind, Elisa's uncertain voice made Herbert narrow his eyes.

He drew in a deep breath, his expression unreadable, and gave a slight nod.

"Yes, that's her."

(End of chapter)