Chapter 103: The Battle of Riox (II)

As the sunset of dusk slowly set, the battle at Riox showed no sign of stopping.
The necromancers were somewhat impressed by the Flame Lord summoned by the old dean—after all, the size of a transformed beast was directly proportional to its magical energy consumption. Yet the five elders of the necromancers merely summoned the already-existing Immortal Kings from the Land of Death. From this perspective, the old dean was indeed at a severe disadvantage. But in reality, it seemed not to be the case.
It was not uncommon in the magical world for summoned creatures to ignore their summoner’s commands, as some higher beings possessed intelligence akin to humans—yet humans were still not the rulers of the world.
In the presence of Edmund Pankhurst Bone, one of the thirteen Immortal Kings of the Land of Death, even the elders of the necromancers had to lower their heads and speak in hushed tones.
“Honorable Immortal King, we need your help!”
“Hm?” The crown-wearing Immortal King stared interestingly at the roaring Flame Lord and said with a hint of cunning, “It seems you’ve encountered quite a problem. But… why should I help you, humans?”
Seemingly understanding the meaning behind the Immortal King’s words, Elder Boris whispered, “Please believe us—we will reward you generously afterward!”
“Hahaha!” The Immortal King laughed wildly, his huge scar over his right eye making him look even more ferocious. After laughing for a while, he suddenly stopped and said, “Ten thousand pure souls!”
“Ten thousand?” Elder Boris was stunned, and the expressions of the other four elders also showed hesitation. Clearly, the Immortal King intended to take advantage of the situation.
Clenching his thick skeletal claws, he laughed wildly, “That’s right! Ten thousand! Absorbing and purifying souls— isn’t that easy for you necromancers? As long as you’re willing to pay, you can gain my friendship. I’ll help you kill all those annoying creatures, whether they’re those insignificant humans or those flaming piles of rock…”
“But… ten thousand is far too much…” Elder Boris frowned and shook his head.
“What?!” Intense green soul flames flared in the Immortal King’s eyes as he spoke in a low voice, “Do you dare mock the great Immortal King? Break the contract? I swear, if you don’t pay, you’ll never gain my friendship again…”

Faced with the threat from the Immortal King, Elder Boris shook his head slightly and said in a deep voice, “Of course not! We do not wish to offend you, esteemed Immortal King. I merely hope to reduce the costly compensation. If that’s not possible, I’ll have no choice but to seek help from the other kings…”
“Are you threatening me?!” The deathly power surrounding the Immortal King surged suddenly. The dark green flames he wielded possessed incredible strength—anything that touched them was destroyed in an instant. After glaring angrily at Elder Boris for a long time, the soul flames in the Immortal King’s eyes finally dimmed slightly. After a moment of silence, he sneered, “Five thousand! That’s the minimum! Satisfied now, cunning human?”
Elder Boris finally smiled faintly and said softly, “Thank you for your generosity! I believe we can manage it.”
“Hmph!” The Immortal King snorted coldly. Then, his gaze fell on the professors of the academy, and he hissed, “Kill them, skeleton soldiers!”
As soon as he spoke, an army of skeletons surged out of the Gate of Decay like a tide, charging wildly at the academy’s professors.
At the same time, the old dean raised his magic wand and pointed at the Lord of Flames, shouting firmly, “Fight, everyone, for the glory of Heliorex!”
Beside him, Father Andrew had also finished his prayer. A milky white energy surged from him, growing larger and larger before forming a massive white figure—[Power Angel—Pavas]. With full power, Pavas had a physique comparable to that of the Immortal King and the Lord of Flames. His spear and sword in hand, along with his imposing stance, inspired fear in everyone.
Black magic, white magic, necromancy, astrology—various simple yet deadly spells once again ravaged the land.
Meanwhile, Professor Manhet, following the strategy agreed upon with the old dean earlier, led the academy’s students to quietly leave through the back door of the ancient castle as the battle began.
Seeing such a magnificent battle for the first time, even the senior students of Heliorex Academy were too shocked to speak. Holding their breath, they made their way toward the main gate along the academy’s paths. Though worried about the safety of their professors, they understood that battles of that scale were far beyond their ability to participate in.

“Hurry up, children!” Noticing that the necromancers’ attention was drawn to the faculty professors, Manhet and a dozen other professors led the dozens of students remaining at the academy away through a side path. Of course, the necromancers were not unaware of this—perhaps they disdained attacking a group of kids, or maybe they didn’t even need to intervene…

The escape wasn’t smooth, as the necromancers had a clear numerical advantage. By the time Professor Manhet and his students reached the school gates, six necromancers were already waiting there quietly.

Looking at the group of children with terrified expressions, one necromancer stretched out his hand, pointed at Professor Manhet and the others, and said in a deep voice, “The kids can leave, but you must stay!”

Professor Manhet was surprised by such a statement, but out of concern for the necromancers’ notorious reputation, he didn’t fully trust their words. As the person responsible for ensuring the students’ safe departure, Professor Manhet insisted on seeing these children board the carriage back to their families before he could feel at ease.

Before he could speak, one of the professors in the group sneered, “What’s this? A promise from a necromancer? How ridiculous!”

“Tch!” The necromancer who spoke snorted coldly, raised his right hand holding a magic wand, and said sternly, “Then die all here as payment for your insult!” As soon as he finished speaking, he raised his hand, and a volley of spears shot like arrows at the opposing group. Even though there were teenagers among them, he seemed determined not to show mercy.

“Damn it!” This utterly inhumane behavior angered several professors in the group. After creating a protective shield, they shouted at Professor Manhet, “Professor Manhet, leave this to us!” With that, the professors simultaneously unleashed various magical attacks on the necromancers.

“Ferni, Gary, you…”

“Hurry up and leave!” Professor Gary shouted amid the fierce battle. “We can’t guarantee how long we’ll hold out. You’d better take the children far away before we fall… Oh, damn it!” With that, he used a teleportation spell and disappeared from sight.

Giving a solemn glance at the professors fighting, Manhet performed a magician’s salute before turning to the children and saying, “Children, let’s go!”

“Professor Gary and the others…”

“Hurry up!” Professor Manhet interrupted the children with a near-growl, his emotions clearly unstable. After all, the powerful professors of the academy were all fighting fiercely against the necromancers beside the old dean at that moment. They had to buy enough time for the students to leave, while those responsible for escorting the children were professors with slightly weaker individual abilities. If they chose to stay, they might lose their chance to escape safely…
But such situations kept happening along the way. For the sake of their students, the professors of Riox willingly stood against the necromancers, both out of pride as mages and out of their responsibilities as professors.
Finally, when they reached the Magic Street outside the academy, only Professor Manhet remained in the group. However, the necromancers who had stayed in Vando City to control the situation spotted them immediately. There were about a dozen of them. Though this might have been the last group of necromancers, the number was clearly too much for Professor Manhet to handle alone…
“This is troublesome…” Professor Manhet muttered anxiously.
Meanwhile, on the tall bell tower beside Magic Street, Argus rested his chin and watched the street below with interest, mocking, “Hey, Pule, those cute little brats have escaped! What a surprise—you actually let those kids get away…”
“Hmph!” Seemingly hearing the subtle mockery in Argus’s words, Pule said in a displeased tone, “Are you trying to say that we necromancers are heartless creatures? That we’d kill innocent kids too?”
“Oh, no, no,” Argus smiled and shook his head, explaining, “It’s not like that, my dear companion. I’m just a bit surprised, that’s all…” As he spoke, he seemed to spot something and murmured with interest, “Hm? Are those kids in there too?”
“Those kids?” Pule was stunned and looked down in confusion. He wasn’t sure which kids Argus was referring to. Among the crowd below, he only remembered one little guy named Thos…
“Go say hello!” With a mischievous smile, as if planning some prank, Argus said.
“Hm?” Necromancer Pule didn’t seem to hear clearly and asked instinctively, “What?” The moment the words left his mouth, he was shocked to see Argus stand up and jump down from the bell tower.

On the streets below, Professor Manhet was locked in a standoff with a group of academy students against the necromancers across from them. Perhaps this sounds a bit ridiculous—after all, the Riox Academy side didn’t even have the right to engage in a standoff; it was simply that those necromancers disdained to take action. Maybe these necromancers left in Vando were only there to block everyone here.

“Professor Manhet…” A senior student murmured, staring at the necromancer covered head to toe in a gray cloak. Then, as if having made up his mind, he suppressed his fear and timidly stepped forward, but was immediately stopped by Manhet.

Professor Manhet seemed to see through the student’s thoughts. Shaking his head, he said in a deep voice, “Step back, Madriel! You’re still young!” He patted the student’s shoulder and smiled, “You’re an outstanding senior student. So… please take the younger students and leave here.”

His smile was somewhat strange. Perhaps as the head instructor, Professor Manhet was accustomed to always being serious, making his smile at this moment seem out of place.

“Professor…” The student named Madriel opened his mouth and nodded silently.

Professor Manhet took a deep breath, gripped his wand tightly, and stepped forward, about to say something when suddenly there was a bang from the side of the street.

Turning around, Professor Manhet saw a man in a long black coat smiling at them, clapping his hands in approval. “Wow, what a touching scene!”

“Who are you?” Manhet stared at him suspiciously. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he exclaimed in shock, “Argus… are you Argus BartClarkefield?!”

“Oh? Am I that famous?” Argus smiled indifferently.

“What do you want?” Professor Manhet instinctively protected the students behind him and asked in a stern voice. Perhaps even those dozen necromancers across from them were puzzled by Argus’s appearance.

“Argus? What are you doing here? I don’t remember needing your help!” one of the necromancers said in a hostile tone.

“Oops, there’s been a misunderstanding!” Argus stepped back two steps, holding his hands out, and said jokingly, “Everyone, calm down! I just wanted to come down and say hello—nothing more…” As he spoke, his gaze swept over the group of children. Smiling at the astonished Allen, Lavia, Dia, Lisa, and the others, he said, “Hey, kids!—We meet again!” Then he glanced at Thors and said in a tone that was partly mocking, partly teasing, and partly oddly serious, “What a mess, Thors!”
“Argus!” Thors frowned as he saw Argus tilting his head slightly toward him, clearly displeased. Just as he was about to speak, Dia grabbed his hand. For the first time, she looked at Thors with a pleading gaze, shook her head, and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear, “Please… don’t, Thors!” She knew the boy’s personality too well—she understood that beneath his seemingly indifferent exterior lay a strong sense of pride. For her, the most important thing was for them to leave that place safely; there was no reason to anger that terrifying man.
Seeing Dia’s expression, Thors fell silent.
Argus, obviously noticing Dia’s actions, showed a look of confusion and nostalgia, and a faint smile appeared on his lips—very different from his usual smile. But when he came back to his senses, the smile vanished instantly. He glanced at Thors and Dia, shrugged, and said, “Tch, boring!—I thought it would be more interesting. Such a disappointment!”
Professor Manhert glanced skeptically between Argus and Thors, feeling puzzled. Of course, he knew now wasn’t the time to ask the students questions. He raised his wand and said to the dozen necromancers, “Please make sure these children leave completely!”
The necromancers instinctively looked at Argus, as they had learned from their earlier conversation that this terrifying man seemed to get along well with those kids. Though they thought they weren’t afraid of him, deep down, a voice kept warning them: Don’t provoke him! Don’t anger this guy!

Seeing the gazes of both groups fixed on him, Argus pretended to be embarrassed and scratched his hair before saying jokingly, “Don’t ask me. I just came by to say hello…” With that, he stepped back to the side of the street and sat on a wooden barrel. Pulling out an unknown fruit from his pocket with his right hand, he took a bite and said with a smile, “Just act like I’m not here, everyone!”
“What on earth is this guy thinking?” Pur muttered through gritted teeth from the top of the clock tower. Frowning at the height of the tower, he decided to go down the stairs. As he passed by, Connel, who had been standing with his arms crossed against the wall, opened and closed his eyes before leaping down from the clock tower.
“Hey! Damn it, everyone’s the same!” Pur complained unhappily.
On the street below, the necromancers kept staring at Argus, who was biting into the fruit. Eventually, one of them raised his wand and shook his head, saying, “No. We’ve received orders not to let anyone leave! If these brats behave themselves, we won’t kill them. After erasing their memories with magic, we’ll let them go!”
Indeed, the fewer people who knew about this, the better. If someone learned something from these brats and guessed something, it would clearly be detrimental to the overall situation. Jerry Belford, the vice president of the Royal Magic Association, was ashamed to cooperate with necromancers, and the necromancers also didn’t want others to know that they were relying on the help of a small group of dark magicians.
However, using magic to forcibly erase someone’s memories could cause immeasurable damage to that person’s soul power. Coupled with the necromancers’ poor reputation, Professor Manhert didn’t believe their words.
Just then, with a loud thud, a figure jumped down from the air. To Argus’s surprised gaze, the figure said in a deep voice, “Let them go!”
Looking at that familiar figure, Ravia exclaimed in disbelief, “Lian?”
The werewolf seemed too afraid to meet Ravia’s gaze. He turned to stare at the dozen or so necromancers and repeated, “Let them go!”
The leading necromancer glanced at Argus. Seeing him shrug indifferently, he shook his head and said, “It’s impossible!”
Suddenly, a gust of black wind blew. Connel rushed over to that necromancer at incredible speed, grabbed his throat with his right hand, and lifted him up. With bloodshot eyes, he repeated slowly and firmly, “Let them go!”

Suddenly, a cyan skeleton that appeared out of nowhere punched Cornell in the abdomen and grabbed his arms to throw him aside. The immense force sent Cornell’s massive body crashing hard against the wall beside the street. “Argus,” said a necromancer, stepping forward and glancing at Argus coldly, “you actually allowed your subordinates to attack us…” “Hah!” Argus shook his head in amusement and said mockingly, “If that guy became my subordinate, many things would become much simpler!” With that, he finished eating the remaining flesh from the fruit and said calmly, “By the way, has your mother ever told you that angering a werewolf is a very unwise choice? Especially one with great power?” Before the necromancer could react, a tremendous force struck his face. With a loud crash, he smashed through the wooden door of a shop and lay dying among the broken planks, his face covered in flowing red blood. Where he had stood before, Cornell, unharmed, was gripping the cyan skeleton’s throatbone and snarling, “It was you who hit me just now, wasn’t it? No wonder I didn’t feel anything! Let me teach you what a real punch looks like!” Saying this, he slammed his right fist into the skeleton’s ribs. With another loud bang, the cyan skeleton shattered under the force. “Argus!” The necromancers present glared at Argus angrily. “Oh dear, I already said he’s not my subordinate,” Argus sighed helplessly, tossing the fruit core aside. He waved at Cornell and smiled, “Don’t go too far! Pule is watching from above!” “Bastard!” One of the necromancers, unable to control his anger, growled, “Kill this damned wolf! Kill them all!” “Hey, I’m not included in ‘them all,’ am I?” Argus said cheerfully, sitting on a barrel. One of his companions’ serious injuries enraged the other necromancers, who launched attacks in quick succession—sharp bone spears and terrifying bone spirits were deployed in a short time. While this was clearly insignificant to Cornell, it was deadly for Riox’s students! Although Professor Manhet was strong, he didn’t have the time to protect so many children at once!

Just as those bone spears and bone souls were about to strike the children, a crimson storm arose in the air, thick as fresh blood. With the necromancers’ frowning expressions, the crimson storm gradually dissipated, revealing a figure… “Ulrich?” Dia exclaimed in surprise. “I can’t bear it anymore…” Ulrich, usually so gentle, stared intently at the necromancers and said in a deep voice, “Your actions are beyond my tolerance!” With that, he stretched out his right hand and pointed at one of the necromancers, then clenched his fist suddenly. A painful scream was heard as the necromancer inexplicably floated in mid-air, struggling as if enduring immense agony. “Hiss!” Under the shocked gazes of everyone, including Argus, streams of bright red liquid burst forth from the necromancer’s body. His struggles grew slower and slower until his limbs became stiff and motionless. “Hey, hey…” Argus’ expression turned serious as he frowned at Ulrich and the dense red threads resembling spiderwebs surrounding his body. If he was guessing correctly, those were human blood, from that necromancer. In other words, Ulrich had drained the other man’s blood in an instant… “What the hell did you do?!” one of the necromancers roared angrily. His wand emitted a strange green glow, and soon, bone spikes were shot out at lightning speed, no slower than arrows from a crossbow. But Ulrich didn’t move at all. The moment the bone spikes flew toward him, the blood surrounding him gathered rapidly to form a blood barrier that blocked them. Then, with a wave of his right hand, the blood turned into blood arrows that shot back at the attackers. “Is this guy a vampire?” Argus murmured, observing Ulrich’s actions. After comparing him to Connel, a hint of interest appeared on his lips. This guy is a different type of vampire from Connel… Interesting! “Stop it, let him go!” Argus shouted at the werewolf, realizing that Ulrich’s strength seemed no less than Connel’s. If their indulgence allowed that strange vampire to kill all the necromancers here, not only would their fragile relationship with the necromancers be ruined, but even his companion Pule would be displeased.

Actually, Argus didn’t need to speak—Connel had already stopped attacking the necromancer and was staring at Ulric with disbelief. He sensed a familiarity about him, one he had encountered before.
“I don’t want to fight…” Ulric kept muttering as if holding back something, but his movements didn’t slow down in the slightest. With the ability to control his blood freely, he was a deadly killer to any creature. Faced with his power, those necromancers had little chance to fight back—either their blood was drained or they were pierced by his sharp blood arrows.
“Is this Ulric?” Allen rubbed his eyes in shock. He couldn’t believe that the guy who was struggling to get up after fighting the necromancers was actually the incompetent vampire who had relied on them for food and shelter, always talking about divine wills… He remembered mocking Ulric for not even having the most basic vampire ability—blood-drinking…
Even Thors, who had long known of this guy’s terrifying power, was moved.
As a vampire, Ulric didn’t seem to have as strong physical strength as Connel, but he could control his blood freely—a capability that surpassed that of ordinary vampires…
Just then, Dia suddenly saw a slender bone spear shooting toward Ulric at incredible speed and quickly shouted, “Be careful, Ulric!”
But before she could finish speaking, the bone spear had already pierced Ulric’s body, before his blood could protect him…
“Wow! What a nice strike!” Argus turned to look behind him and saw his companion, the necromancer Pule, standing under the bell tower, raising his right hand and staring coldly at Ulric. Clearly, it was Pule who had launched the spear.
“Hmph!” Pule glared at Argus resentfully, frowning in displeasure. “Argus, are you just going to stand by and watch this guy kill my kin?”
“Ah,” Argus scratched his head awkwardly and shrugged. “I said from the start that I wouldn’t get involved in the fight—I’m just here to watch…” As he spoke, his gaze shifted to Ulric, and he licked his lips. “I never thought that besides me, there’s another vampire with forbidden power in this world…”
Forbidden power? Pule froze for a moment, instinctively looking in Ulric’s direction, because forbidden power usually referred to the ability of eternal immortality…
“Impossible!” Pule frowned deeply and, with a wave of his hand, sent another bone spear flying.

“Ulric!” As Dia cried out in anguish, Ulric’s body was pierced with bone spears. Yet the next moment, his body suddenly turned into blood that scattered across the ground. To everyone’s astonishment, the rolling blood reshaped his body once again.
The Ulric who reformed was no longer the face they were familiar with—it was a being beyond human limits. His entire body was composed of dark red blood. Even more bizarrely, he had a pair of bat-like blood wings, making him seem even more terrifying than a necromancer.
“Hey, what’s going on with that body?” Argus said with a smirk, though his gaze was serious.
“Swish swish swish!” Several bone spears were shot at Ulric, as the necromancers weren’t idle.
Unexpectedly, Ulric didn’t move at all—perhaps he didn’t need to defend himself at all.
As expected, the bone spears pierced Ulric’s newly formed body. But… what kind of body was that?
Despite being pierced, Ulric’s movements with his blood wings remained unaffected. Seeing those holes in his body, everyone wore strange expressions.
“It’s indeed blood…” Argus murmured. Next to him, the necromancer Pur quickly recited a spell. A huge double-edged axe descended on Ulric’s head, and with Dia’s scream, it split Ulric in two.
Yet what happened next was even more bizarre. Even though he was clearly split in two, Ulric continued to move his blood wings steadily as before.
Even the necromancers instinctively stopped attacking, shocked by this strange sight. It was unimaginable—what kind of creature was this? No living being could survive having its body split in two, let alone someone who seemed unharmed at all…
In silence, the two halves of Ulric’s body twitched slightly, then blood threads stretched out, gradually reuniting the two halves. As the necromancers had expected, he hadn’t suffered any harm.
His body, somewhere between solid and shadow, possessed undead abilities comparable to Gungro’s. Though lacking Connel’s formidable physical strength, he could control blood at will—even blood originally within others’ bodies…

Ulric is the second vampire of a special type after Connel. Of course, he can’t be a Gangrel vampire… As if thinking of something, Puhl took out an old notebook with a thick dark blue cover from his bosom. It was the notes of the liches that he found in Gallek’s Dark Castle, containing over a hundred years’ worth of magical knowledge and their research on vampires. After flipping through dozens of pages, Puhl stopped. He kept comparing Ulric to the information in the notebook, his expression gradually turning one of disbelief. “Vanthor vampires…”