Chapter Sixty: The Beginning of the Fierce Battle

On a desolate expanse at the northwestern outskirts of the city, three factions stood at a tense standoff.

One side consisted of myself and Ang—the very heart of this present conflict.

Opposing us were five members of the Thirteen Inquisitors: the Fourth Inquisitor, the Puppeteer; the Fifth, the Duke of Poison; the Eighth, the Ice Maiden; the Ninth, the Mirror Master; and the Tenth, the Maestro. Acting under the orders of the Vampire Council, they sought to capture me and bring me back to stand trial.

The final force present was the last and strongest of the six Inquisitors to descend upon this city: the Third Inquisitor, the Duke of Winds. He intended to forcibly escort me back to the ancient vampire castle for my protection, his allegiance wholly sworn to the Vampire Prince—my father.

Each faction harbored their own ambitions, none willing to yield to the others. Thus, the three parties found themselves locked in this confrontation.

“Duke of Winds, do you truly intend to oppose the Vampire Council?” the Puppeteer demanded harshly.

“Puppet-master, I’ve never regarded the Council as anything but a gathering of decrepit relics—what right have they to command me?” the Duke of Winds replied scornfully. “I only accepted the title of Inquisitor because the position intrigued me. I’m under no obligation to obey those old fools. There is but one person in this world whose orders I acknowledge: the Prince himself.”

“Damn traitor,” the Duke of Poison cursed, teeth clenched in impotent fury. Yet there was nothing he could do. The Duke of Winds possessed strength far surpassing any ordinary Grand Duke—his power rivaled even the Vampire King I once defeated. He was a formidable adversary, not someone any single Inquisitor present could hope to overcome.

“Princess Liliana, I beseech you, please don’t be willful any longer. Return with me to the ancient castle. The human world grows ever more turbulent; should you linger, your life may be endangered,” said the Duke of Winds solemnly, paying no heed to the Duke of Poison’s animosity.

“Danger? Is there anything here that can truly threaten me? The pathetic blood hunters? That worthless vampire on the run? If you mean the top two Inquisitors, does it not make little difference whether I am here or at the castle? Aren’t your ranks determined by strength?” I replied coolly.

“True, few in the human world could harm you. But matters are not as simple as you imagine,” the Duke of Winds said gravely. “No matter the cost, I cannot permit you to remain here any longer.”

“My actions are not yours to dictate,” I retorted disdainfully.

“Duke of Winds, since Princess Liliana refuses your kindness, do not force her. A true gentleman does not coerce a lady,” the Tenth Inquisitor, the Maestro in white, remarked with elegant poise.

“Silence. My conversation with Princess Liliana does not require your interjection,” the Duke of Winds snapped, raising his hand. In an instant, a blade of wind materialized before the Maestro, slicing toward his heart.

“Frost!” cried the Ice Maiden, who had stood quietly all this while. A wall of ice and snow formed before the Maestro. Though it shattered at once upon meeting the wind blade, it bought the Maestro enough time to react. Plucking the strings of his harp, he sent invisible waves of sound that deflected the blade aside, so that it merely grazed his left shoulder, slicing a rent in his white robe.

“Duke of Winds, curb your arrogance! Do not think I fear you. There is only a single rank between us; the outcome of a true contest remains to be seen!” Angered by the Duke’s ruthless attack on the Maestro, the Puppeteer could contain his fury no longer.

“A contest, is it?” The Duke of Winds laughed coldly. “You, a mere puppeteer, dare compare yourself to me? You surely know the gulf that separates the top three Inquisitors from the rest of you.”

“Enough. Let us cease this bickering,” the Mirror Master, who had been watching coldly, finally spoke. “At the very least, our goal of returning Princess Liliana to the ancient castle is the same. Quarreling serves no purpose. Securing the Princess must be our first priority. Let us join forces to bring her back before anything else.”

“Hmph.” The Puppeteer snorted and turned away, declining to argue further with the Duke of Winds.

“Princess Liliana, forgive me for what I must do,” said the Duke of Winds. Power surged from his body as countless whirling columns of wind appeared and vanished around him. His cloak billowed furiously as he transformed into a pale blue tempest, rushing straight at Ang and me.

“Ang, leave the rest to me. I’ll handle him,” I said, unfurling my golden bat wings and soaring to meet the oncoming storm.

“Be careful, Your Highness,” Ang called, before launching himself at the five Inquisitors, who awaited an opening to strike.

Meanwhile, at the headquarters of the Blood Hunter Guild, Xingyu sat quietly in his room. Ever since he’d resolved to repay Lilith for her kindness, spurred by the Optimist’s words, he devoted himself ceaselessly to cultivating his magical power.

In the midst of his focused training, Xingyu suddenly opened his eyes, startled, his expression grave as he looked northwest.

“What is this magic?” he murmured in shock, sensing a powerful surge of energy erupting somewhere in the city. As that force burst forth, several other powers—no weaker than the first—flared up in quick succession. The simultaneous eruption of such strength left Xingyu speechless with astonishment.

“Lilith!” In one of those auras, he felt a familiarity, a sense of intimacy. “That’s Lilith’s magic—there’s no mistake.” Determination filled his voice. “Lilith is in trouble.”

He did not know what had happened, but he knew she was in danger, for he could sense her magic being completely suppressed by the first force to erupt.

“I must go help Lilith. I will not repeat my past mistakes. I will atone with my very life for the debt I owe her,” Xingyu declared, clenching his fists with resolve. Unaware that the Guild had already decided to wage all-out war against the vampires, Xingyu acted purely from his own conviction. He could do no less; otherwise, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

He failed to notice that, from the moment he made this decision, his fate had veered onto a path beyond his control. What awaited Xingyu, none could say.

“Lilith, wait for me,” he cried out silently. Equipping his weapons, he hurried from the Guild, racing toward the source of the magical upheaval.

At that same moment, in the white-robed elder’s chamber at the Guild, the old man also sensed the sudden eruption of those powerful forces, his eyes darkening with gravity.

“Hmph!” he snorted coldly. “Let them flaunt their power for now. One day, I will see them all finished.” His gaze flashed with a chilling light. Then, closing his eyes, he withdrew from the unfolding chaos, indifferent to the events that had begun to shape the fate of the city.