The iron door was mottled with rust, and the cold wind seeping through the cracks in the wooden boards made the torch flicker unsteadily.
Julius pushed open the heavy iron door, raising his torch and leading the way.
A familiar smell immediately assaulted them—the aroma of wine mingled with an acrid, putrid stench that stung the throat.
Kyle wrinkled his nose, his spear resting slantwise on his shoulder, and couldn’t help but mutter in a low voice:
“Ugh, it’s still that rotten smell. Can anyone really stomach this stuff?”
“That’s why it’s called fake wine.”
Julius’ voice was cold and stern, his gaze sweeping the gloom, “These things were never meant for drinking in the first place.”
Selina narrowed her eyes slightly, her gray pupils reflecting the torchlight:
“Let’s set up the sentries first. We need to move quickly.”
The guards, hearing this, split up according to plan. One by one, torches were lit and placed between the walls and wooden crates.
The swaying torchlight cast layer upon layer of shadows. Light and darkness tangled inside the warehouse, as if something might crawl out of the blackness at any moment.
Kyle tapped the floor with his spearhead, making a dull “thud, thud” sound:
“Are we just waiting for the prey to come to us? Lurking in a rat’s nest for the rats to return.”
Julius didn’t look back, but softly warned:
“Stay focused. Don’t let your guard down.”
Kyle curled his lips, but gripped his spear even tighter:
“Don’t be so tense. The more nervous you are, the easier it is to mess up.”
A brief silence settled over them.
Selina closed her eyes, sensing the lingering magical currents in the air. Her brow gradually furrowed.
Wait, something doesn’t feel right.
Just as she was about to speak—
“BOOM—!”
A violent roar shattered the stillness.
The iron doors at both ends of the warehouse slammed shut, and heavy iron chains coiled up like living things, locking into place with an ear-piercing screech.
Immediately after, pitch-black runes surfaced from the floor and walls, quickly crawling over the entire space, sealing the warehouse completely.
Julius’ heart sank as he shouted in a low voice:
“Barrier?!”
A nauseating aura surged toward them.
“Heh, so you really took the bait after all.”
A mocking laugh echoed atop the wine barrels.
In the torchlight, a black-robed figure gradually revealed himself, a grotesque Centipede Scar crawling over his only exposed hand, writhing like something alive and making one’s scalp crawl.
Selina’s pupils shrank abruptly, her voice cold as ice:
“It’s that guy.”
The black-robed man threw his head back, emitting a sharp, grating laugh full of scorn:
“Your little tricks? I saw through them long ago. I just couldn’t be bothered to expose you—figured I’d use them to lure you in instead.”
Kyle’s grip tightened on his spear. He bit his lip, his voice thick with frustration:
“Damn it, we ended up being outplayed.”
But before he could finish, a cloud of black mist exploded outward.
The guards didn’t even have time to scream before the dense black fog swallowed them whole.
Armor sizzled as it corroded, falling apart in seconds.
The stench of blood mixed with the odor of wine. In an instant, the warehouse became a living hell.
“Bastard!”
Julius roared, the blade of his sword bursting forth with brilliant holy light as he forcibly tore through the oncoming black mist.
The black-robed man swooped down from above with a manic grin, both hands transforming into claws wreathed in darkness, lunging straight at Julius’ chest.
“CLANG—!”
A heavy metallic crash made the very air tremble.
Julius’ arms went numb, the stone slab under his feet cracking open on the spot.
“Get away from him!”
Kyle shouted angrily, swinging his spear in a sweeping arc, the tip tearing through the air and stabbing at the enemy’s flank.
The black-robed man snorted coldly, reaching out to grab the spear shaft barehanded. Instantly, black mist began to creep along the metal.
Kyle jerked the spear back sharply, a ruthless glint flickering in his eyes as a cold laugh escaped his teeth:
“Hmph, no wonder you escaped the siege. Your claws are tough, but too bad you ran into us!”
Selina’s fingers flicked lightly, and her Blood Blade split the black mist, slashing down from above like a blade of pure blood.
But the moment the blade touched the black-robed man, its brilliance was instantly devoured, even the torchlight dimming in its wake.
The black-robed man’s maniacal laughter echoed within the Barrier:
“Futile! All your struggling is meaningless here—prey is always prey!”
“The greatness of Abyss power needs no explanation!”
The torches inside the warehouse were gradually suppressed, their glow fading bit by bit as darkness flooded in like a rising tide.
Wine barrels burst one after another, foul liquid spreading over the floor and mixing with the stench of blood into a sickening miasma.
Julius’ fingers had turned white, but his voice remained as steely as ever:
“The sword of a Paladin—never retreats!”
The longsword in his hand was wrapped in holy light, the blade radiating a dazzling brilliance like a burning flame in the darkness.
The trembling sword point seemed ready to strike at any moment, its glow scattering the crawling black mist at his feet, carving out a lone streak of brightness in the stifling warehouse.
Kyle flicked his spear tip upward, his red hair flickering in the firelight, a ruthless curve on his lips:
“Fine then! Let’s fight it out!”
As the young man lifted his spear, it let out a deep hum, the sharp tip gleaming blindingly under the torchlight.
Crimson flames coiled up the shaft like writhing serpents, wrapping the entire spear in fire.
With every twitch of the spear tip, sparks scattered, the air twisting from the heat.
It seemed that if he took one more step forward, this blazing spear would erupt into a wrathful inferno and utterly consume their enemy.
Selina’s eyes were cold as frost. She slowly raised her hand, a flash of chilling light passing by. Her own blood burst forth, but did not fall to the ground; it hovered in the air, bound by her will.
The blood quickly gathered, twisted, and solidified before her, pulsing as if alive.
In a heartbeat, two slender arcs formed in midair—not blades forged of steel, but weapons condensed from her own blood.
The twin blades, Blood Twin Blades, dripped crimson without a drop falling, their edges radiating a captivating, sinister luster.
“Letting you scum escape last time was our failure… We won’t make the same mistake again.”
The vampire girl’s voice echoed through the warehouse, so cold it seemed to freeze the air.
The Blood Twin Blades in her hands shimmered with eerie red light, each tremor stirring a bloody glow that chilled the heart.
The black-robed man let out a deranged laugh, his voice low and tinged with madness:
“Heh… Even someone like you can be a demon hunter? The Church must be desperate.”
“Too bad, even if you give it everything you have, you’ll never snatch a thing back from the Abyss.”
As his words fell, the churning black mist suddenly contracted, drawn by some malignant force, surging toward his arm.
The Centipede Scar writhed violently, as if some living thing was burrowing out from under his skin, making the flesh crawl.
His flesh swelled grotesquely, veins twisting, bones crackling audibly.
The once black claws grew even more hideous, the tips elongating, their blade-like plates glinting coldly in the firelight.
The black-robed man raised his monstrous arm with a savage grin, his tone now utterly unhinged, “Come on! Let’s see how long you can last—!”