[This Chapter Is Sponsored by Latrell Mckenzie! Everyone, please thank him in the comment!] (6/18)
The radiant golden pillar of light, adorned with entwined thunder and lightning, gradually dimmed and dissipated.
Darkness reclaimed the heavens and the earth.
Apart from the rolling thunder above, all returned to calm. The wild winds ceased. Whistler struggled to his feet, supporting himself on one heavy, staggering foot as he moved toward Blade, who lay nearly flayed of flesh, a pitiful sight that filled Whistler with compassion.
Though not his own son, Whistler had raised him from childhood and came to love him dearly as his own.
Seeing Blade in such a weakened, miserable state, how could he not feel heartache?
Yet Whistler was always known for his fiery temper and soft heart, resembling a blade in sharpness but tofu in tenderness. He drew a sharp dagger from his leg strap, forcefully cutting the branch that pinned Blade, while speaking, "I've forgotten when was the last time you boasted about your prowess, Blade. Still thinking of putting me out of a job?"
"Look at you now; this is hardly the figure you boasted about."
"Now, I, an old man, still need to do this for you. I certainly don't want to hear that you've died after I retire."
"Don't expect me to erect a tombstone for you."
"Ha! I never thought I'd be involved in battles of this magnitude. Look at that place; they could probably kill me with just a fingertip." Despite his weakness, Blade still defended himself.
He never considered it boasting; he truly believed he was the greatest vampire hunter in the world.
And he still is.
As for that Asian boy, he should not be considered human. He is a monster, cloaked in human skin.
"We all owe that boy, Blade," said Whistler as he sawed off the branch. Blade, with the broken branch still embedded in his body, slowly stood upright.
"I'm more concerned about whether he killed that blood god."
"He's already dead."
As soon as Blade's words fell, another unfamiliar voice reached them, making both tense up involuntarily and turn around, only to see the Asian boy standing hundreds of meters away.
Holding a crucifix sword, dressed in an unscathed black coat and pants as if they were brand new, he walked towards them calmly.
Bi Xiao's steps were light, a smile curling on his lips, his formidable aura still lingering. Whether it was an illusion or not, Blade and Whistler felt that the boy's presence was even more terrifying than before.
Approaching from hundreds of meters away, without any aggressive moves, yet they felt an immense pressure as if carrying a mountain on their backs.
Their faces grew solemn; Whistler stepped forward to shield Blade, addressing the approaching Bi Xiao with a grave tone, "Blade is not like the vampires you've encountered."
"His heart is filled with goodness; he eradicates those vampire scum for humanity."
"He is not your target, sir."
At that moment, Whistler subdued his fiery temper, using a tone filled with sincerity and humility, even pleadingly.
He feared that the formidable boy, the Son of God, the new hunting target, had set his sights on Blade, and he did not wish for such an event to occur.
Bi Xiao, unhesitant, continued walking towards the old man and Blade.
The old man clenched his teeth, gripping the dagger tightly, his hand turning pale from the force.
Blade gently pushed the old man aside and stood in front, still with a stoic face looking at Bi Xiao, his expression calm as if accepting death, perhaps believing it was his destiny.
Whistler's heart trembled, his eyes firm.
Bi Xiao reached Blade, standing merely a meter away, tilted his head to look at Blade, then at the old man behind him, and suddenly laughed, "An interesting pair, I envy your bond."
This unexpected turn left Blade and the old man somewhat surprised.
Was this boy actually amiable?
This contrasted sharply with their previous impressions and his ferocious battle with the blood god. Now, Bi Xiao seemed like a cheerful young man.
"Scared you, didn't I?" Bi Xiao laughed heartily with a touch of mischief.
Seeing the boy's demeanor, Whistler finally relaxed and quietly criticized the boy's joke.
"That's not funny at all; because of that joke, this old man nearly had a heart attack, sir," Whistler said, stressing the word "sir" with clear displeasure, implying that the boy was just a troublesome brat.
Bi Xiao seemed unconcerned, glancing at Whistler who was limping and bleeding from his forehead.
"I think you wouldn't last long in a hospital looking like that."
"So to make up for my joke…" Bi Xiao extended his left hand towards Whistler, and before their astonished eyes, a gentle, even warm, golden beam of energy entered Whistler's chest.
Whistler, still confused, suddenly felt a warm sensation spreading through his body. He could distinctly feel his broken bones knitting together, the gash on his forehead and various wounds old and new beginning to heal under the mysterious force's influence.