137 Time to Pay Up
Boom!
The aftershock of the arrow faded as the mother peacock's body slid swiftly down the mountain wall, crashing to the ground with a sickening thud.
The impact jolted several onlookers back to their senses, their eyes widening in disbelief. The sheer speed and force of the strike dwarfed Peter Volare's attempt, rendering his efforts a mere child's play in comparison.
Such terrifying power truly lived up to the legendary reputation of the Sun-Shattering Bow!
Rose was stunned by the raw strength hidden within John's frame—it far exceeded her expectations!
With pure physical strength alone, he matched General Laurent's seventy-percent draw of the bow.
Using nothing but the bow itself, John proved just as effective as Albany Laurent would have been.
… …
The death of its sister had shattered the old vampire's complacency.
When I drew the bowstring a second time, the creature flapped its wings frantically, turning its momentum around, no longer daring to face the blow directly. The green feather between its wings shimmered, sending invisible ripples dozens of yards wide, deceptively slow-moving yet instantly slashing toward the peak where I stood.
Crack!
Unfortunately for the peacock, in its frantic turning, the cut struck vertically and missed its mark, cleaving the tall cliff down the middle. In that same instant, I released my fingers once more.
A piercing whistle shattered the valley's silence as a blinding white light streaked toward the great vampire fleeing through the air, striking its tail with devastating force. Beautiful tail feathers exploded outward, scattering in all directions, while a small patch of its body was blasted bare.
Blood sprayed from the old vampire and, despite its excruciating pain, it dared not make a sound as it struggled to maintain its balance in the air.
In its panic, it unleashed two more invisible ripples, but these only succeeded in slicing the mountain peak into smaller fragments.
Wait! Wait until he's exhausted! The peacock vampire thought.
The Sun-Shattering Bow possessed astonishing power, but the physical exertion it required was not something an ordinary warrior could bear.
Once this newcomer's strength gave out, victory would still be within grasp!
The massive peacock swept through the secluded valley like a hurricane, its blood painting the sky crimson.
As I watched this scene unfold, doubt crept into my mind.
I was no archer—I could only hit stationary and approaching targets, relying solely on my keen eyesight and precise control of my strength.
But a fully crystallized vampire lord fleeing at full speed and twisting through the air was incredibly fast and elusive.
After a moment's thought, I coldly aimed the nocked white arrow at the winged young vampire instead.
Rajitha froze as the arrow's deadly sharpness locked onto him. "..."
What kind of twisted heretic was this—targeting wives and children first when hunting vampires?
Unlike his father who could dodge and possibly survive a hit, he was like a fragile leaf caught in a hurricane. And unlike his mother, he had not yet learned to effectively use the red feather he had just plucked from his sister.
"You're shameless!" The father vampire roared in fury as it noticed my aim shift. Its gaze fell to Rajitha, lingering on the green and red feathers adorning his arms. Even now, it couldn't bear to abandon those precious feathers.
The massive creature dove down, snatched Rajitha into its wings, and prepared to flee—but my arrow was already waiting.
With a thunderous impact, the hard feathers that had withstood the Will Embodiment of Swords were now pierced effortlessly by the white light, their underlying flesh shattering like tofu.
The old vampire's speed plummeted. Before it could even react, a second arrow struck, sending it hurtling back a hundred yards.
Before it flew towards its son, it had braced for the searing impact of the arrow, confident its fully crystallized form could withstand a single blow. But it never expected I could fire two arrows in rapid succession—the second arrow, a swift whisper of death following the first, shattered both its confidence and defenses.
Then came the third arrow, the fourth arrow...
I had never wielded such a magnificent weapon before. Drawing the bow repeatedly, I showed no signs of fatigue as the time between releases shortened, and each arrow flew faster than the last.
Only when I noticed the Sun-Shattering Bow's light beginning to dim slightly, did I reluctantly lower my hand from the bowstring.
… …
At the edge of the secluded valley lay the old peacock, its wings shattered and body riddled with gaping wounds—like a chicken carcass picked clean to the bone. With its neck craned high, it stared fixedly at the figure in the black jacket.
The life in its eyes flickered, then faded into nothingness.
Within its mangled wings lay a trembling, curled-up figure. He had barely lifted his head to survey his surroundings when two Will Embodied Swords—though less concentrated than before—silently immobilized him.
Master Arden and Master Rhys approached, denying him any chance to resist, though they refrained from killing him outright.
Vampire Hunters had a habit of personally collecting the heart's blood to exchange for merit.
At last, the two of them understood why Colonel Kane was fully in charge. His repeated drawing of the bow had left the old Templars dumbfounded. It wasn't that General Laurent had taken this matter lightly—quite the opposite. He had taken it so seriously that he'd sent one of his best men instead of coming himself.
From Surrey to Spokane, Kane's strength ranked among the top three.
As Rose approached and saw the old men's shocked expressions, she felt a surge of joy and satisfaction. Yet when she stole a glance at the figure standing on the collapsed mountain peak, her pride gave way to unease.
...
I stored the longbow in the silver bell at my waist.
Turning to the pile of rubble, I rummaged through it briefly before pulling out a dying figure.
I crouched and turned Peter Volare over.
Before he could utter a word, I struck him repeatedly with my palms, each blow more ruthless than the previous one.
In an instant, I shattered both his legs, sealed off the major veins throughout his body, and with a final palm strike, locked his sea of essence.
"Can you still run?"
"..." Peter Volare studied my serious expression and realized I wasn't being sarcastic—I was asking in earnest.
A bitter smile crossed his disheveled face as he shook his head. With the techniques I had used against him, even a Ward of Nature would struggle to escape, let alone a mere thief.
"The manual." I extended my hand and said calmly.
Peter Volare was stunned for a moment, then he realized what I was referring to, and finally understood why he'd been left with one partially movable arm. With difficulty, he reached into his jacket, pulled out an ordinary-looking cloth bag, and from it, extracted a palm-sized golden page.
Engraved on it was the treasure of Cloud Citadel: the Will Embodiment of Sword.
I glanced at it briefly, my expression unchanged, and tucked it away. "You understand what awaits you?"
I had no particular opinion of Peter Volare. Though he'd led me on a chase for days—an irritating affair—the journey had proven worthwhile. He'd even tried to warn me earlier, showing he hadn't truly meant me harm.
For my own sake, I might have spared him. However, other people's lives matter just as much. What made him truly unforgivable was leading Rose into grave danger—together with two old Templars from Cloud Citadel, they had nearly died outside Cascadia. Such actions could only be repaid in blood.
"I know." Peter Volare seemed resigned to his fate. He turned to look at the two dead vampires in the distance, his eyes gleaming with vengeful satisfaction. Though he had known of my strength, he never imagined a fully crystallized vampire would fall so easily to my power.
Suppressing his turbulent emotions, he looked at me with guilt in his eyes. "If it weren't for you, Brother..."
"Spare me the sentimentality," I cut him off, extending my hand again. "You had me do your dirty work—now it's time to pay up. Since you have no future anyway, you might as well be generous."
Peter Volare was taken aback, but understanding dawned quickly. He shook the cloth bag, and a thin martial arts manual fell out. "I don't keep overnight riches. This is the only thing I always carry with me. I hope you won't find it too meager, Brother."
I took the manual and stored it in the silver bell, then carried the man down the shattered cliff face toward the secluded valley.