Carter's injury plunged the well-coordinated team into despair. Everyone knew that an unknown enemy was lurking nearby. Choosing to flee now would be a foolish decision, especially since the frenzied magical beast had already confined them to a tight circle of just a few meters. The hidden enemy was an even greater concern; if even the strongest among them, Carter, had fallen victim, then the one best suited to deal with hidden threats, Hiu, might have been killed by it. The remaining four, along with the incapacitated Carter, had no guarantee of survival if they scattered.
After eliminating Carter, the source of their anxiety, Fars felt quite at ease. The current situation no longer required his intervention; dealing with a few equally exhausted mid-level professionals was sufficient for the high-level magical beast. Fars could simply watch the spectacle unfold as he had done before.
As the moonlight began to rise, Fars grew impatient watching the humans stubbornly resist. However, it seemed that the high-level beast was also in poor condition, and the adventurers had sustained significant damage.
Finally, the mage could no longer contain his fear of the unknown and activated the high-level fog spell scroll mentioned the night before. It was futile; beasts had an uncanny sensitivity to scents. Moreover, Jessy, Frosa, and Moza were unwilling to abandon Carter, making it impossible to escape while carrying someone.
Determined to make the unruly mage his first meal of the night, Fars decided to eliminate him before he could interfere with his plans.
Fars had no doubts about Allen; the expansive fog served as his cover, allowing him to swiftly close in on Allen without being detected. To ensure a fitting end for a mage, Fars prepared a death that would be appropriate for his identity.
"Command~~~ Dread~~~!"
Upon hearing the incantation, Allen immediately reacted, attempting to cast a spell to bolster his defenses against mental attacks. Initially, he assumed the hidden enemy was merely a beast, whose attacks were mostly physical, so he cast a spell armor for protection. However, this was useless against a mental assault.
Allen's casting speed was clearly insufficient; Fars's mental attack effortlessly incapacitated the fellow mage. Perhaps dying under a spell was better than a gruesome death at the hands of a beast. Fars's mental strength far surpassed Allen's, and to avoid killing him outright and ruining the taste of his blood, Fars moderated the intensity of his attack, leaving Allen merely unconscious.
Next, Fars moved in close, catching the collapsing Allen in his arms, cradling him like a lover, and tenderly lowering his head to kiss his neck. His sharp fangs easily pierced Allen's carotid artery, allowing him to savor the intoxicating experience of drinking human blood for the first time.
Human blood was indeed addictive. After draining Allen to the brink of death, Fars began searching for his next prey. The girl was still fleeing with Carter on her back, while the remaining swordsman and warrior struggled to fend off the beast's relentless attacks, buying time for Jessy and Carter to escape. Since the girl wanted to run, Fars was happy to let her. He relished the thrill of a cat-and-mouse game.
Fars had no intention of using spells against the two melee fighters; instead, he planned to practice his close combat skills on them. Grabbing the dagger belonging to the already deceased Hiu, Fars charged directly at Frosa. The sudden attack caught Frosa off guard, and he was brutally stabbed by Fars. A wave of paralysis coursed through his body as blood spilled, and the once-stalwart Frosa fell.
Fars was slightly taken aback; it dawned on him that the dagger had been poisoned.
It was likely that the rogue had coated the expensive wormwood poison on the dagger, which explained why Frosa collapsed after being struck. Fars felt a pang of regret; he had wasted a lot of fresh blood, as toxins typically spread through the bloodstream, and Frosa's blood was certainly no longer drinkable. Irritated, he kicked Frosa, contemplating discarding the now useless dagger, but ultimately decided to keep it for future use, stowing it away in his ring.
Without Frosa's support, Moza was being mercilessly ravaged by the frenzied beast. Unable to watch any longer, Fars rushed in to save Moza, unafraid of the beast's wrath, and began to feed on the blood of the night. Fortunately, although the beast was furious that its prey had been snatched away, it recognized Fars's scent and knew that dealing with him would be easy. Reluctantly, it retreated, returning to guard its mate, while remaining wary of potential ambushes from other beasts and Fars's possible retaliation. It needed to conserve its strength, at least until the night was over.
With the immediate threats resolved and having drained the blood of two individuals, Fars felt a familiar, indescribable euphoria wash over him. Thankfully, he had better control this time; he remembered that the girl he had been eyeing was still running with his next meal. This little chase was the perfect post-dinner entertainment.
He didn't need to search actively; Carter's numerous wounds were continuously bleeding, filling the air with a tantalizing aroma. If there was one thing vampires were sensitive to, it was sunlight, which they feared, while blood was what they loved and needed. Their power came from blood, and their near-immortal lifespan was derived from this mysterious substance.
Following the scent of blood in the air, Fars quickly caught up to Jessy. Sensing the enemy was closing in, Jessy realized that fleeing was futile. She set Carter down and drew her longbow, string taut. Fars did not rush in; he valued Jessy as a rare resource, having already drained a significant amount of blood that night. Moreover, he still had Carter's high-level swordsman's blood waiting for him.
Jessy found herself cornered, but when faced with death, one might find a sense of calm courage, or even despair. Her bow was drawn to its maximum, betraying her inner fear. If the enemy revealed themselves, she might still fight back with all her might. But Fars's continued absence only heightened her anxiety. This unease gnawed at the beautiful young woman, still in the prime of her life.
Once fear sets in, one becomes instinctively afraid of death. Fars understood this well; he wanted a complete girl, not one on the brink of death. If he were to capture her now, she might act impulsively, perhaps even trying to take her own life. Fars aimed to ignite her desire for life; only then would her emotions be easier to manipulate.
Fars relished the feeling of control, like a bowstring stretched too long, eventually snapping. Jessy could no longer withstand the unknown terror; she lowered her bow and began to cry out, fleeing in panic.
A smile crept onto Fars's lips as he saw her drop the bow. This woman was on the verge of collapse, even neglecting Carter on the ground. Now, Jessy, in her frantic escape, resembled a fragile damsel. If a hero were to descend from the heavens to rescue her, it would surely spark a tale of love that defied death.
However, Fars had no intention of playing the hero. A solitary figure in the night, he would not indulge in such a dull spectacle. Once he revealed himself, before Jessy could react, a sleep spell struck her, and she collapsed into Fars's embrace.
Years without the scent of a woman had left Fars almost unable to contain himself. The soft fragrance enveloping him nearly overwhelmed his senses. He bit down hard on his tongue, the pain keeping him grounded, reminding him that good things should be savored slowly—this was the demeanor of a true noble.
Cradling Jessy, he returned to where Carter lay, who had already succumbed to blood loss and was unconscious, following in the footsteps of his fallen comrades.
As the blood of the high-level swordsman flowed into Fars's body, he could no longer restrain himself; Carter's blood ignited something within him. Fars's wings unfurled dramatically, growing slightly longer, now reaching three meters. Mysterious patterns began to appear on his wings, and the moonlight seemed to be drawn to him, converging around his form.
Within a radius of several dozen meters, darkness enveloped Fars completely. His wings wrapped around him, forming a massive black cocoon. In a final instinctive reaction, he retrieved the phoenix egg from his ring, cradling it as he sank into a deep slumber within the black cocoon.
The phoenix egg, having accumulated energy for thousands of years, emitted a chilling darkness that merged with Fars's essence. The patterns on the cocoon began to shimmer, resembling those on the eggshell, with blue and black lights flickering under the moonlight.
Thus, Fars remained in the black cocoon for an entire night. Just before dawn, his magnificent wings unfurled once more, sending ripples of energy spreading outward, causing beasts within a radius of several dozen miles to flee in terror, a sign of respect for a newly born strong being. Perhaps Fars was now merely a vampire viscount, but the aura emanating from his noble bloodline was something ordinary beasts could not withstand.
Fars floated in the air, completely unclothed, having returned the phoenix egg to his ring. He was thoroughly satisfied with the outcome; he had truly achieved the strength of a vampire viscount. From now on, please call him—Fars de Hill.