My Players Are So Fierce

The old knight clearly belonged to the traditional category of “riddlers”.

He always disliked talking halfway, perhaps thinking Murphy couldn’t handle the threats he left unsaid, or perhaps he trusted more in the power once held by the “Crimson Witch” that he had faced directly, rather than Murphy’s potential for the future.

Murphy hoped to know more, but he also knew very well that if old Finoch didn’t want to say it, there was no way for him to pry open the other’s mouth, with the power disparity leaving him so helpless in the current situation.

Using the same method as before, the old knight quickly opened up the thick wall above the Blood Vulture Halls’ waterfall secret passage, revealing a door leading deeper into the hall.

The two of them jumped out from it and landed in the luxurious corridor interior. Murphy opened the map in his hand to observe the surrounding structure, saying to the vigilant old knight:

“Perfect for an ambush! This is the servant’s quarters, only the final corridor’s distance from the Blood Vulture Sanctuary where the Sacred Blood Pool is located. From here we can open up the currently sealed central area to allow your subordinates to reach here faster.

Or we can scout ahead to confirm Salrokdar’s position.”

“Our forces on both sides are resting in the second great hall for now, needing time to recover their fighting strength.”

The old knight calculated the time in his mind before saying to Murphy:

“At least eight hours of rest before they can recover to their peak! They also need to replenish their personal combat supplies. Your witch hunters are just tenacious, not tireless, and those otherworld summons of yours also need some time to re-establish their connection to the material world, right?”

“Yeah, they need a bit longer.”

Murphy took out his pocket watch to calculate the time difference between the two sides, concluding:

“About ten hours.”

“Then we’ll have to find a way to clear a path for them, but I hope you ate your fill earlier, because the expenditure coming up may be a bit much, especially for you as you are now.”

The old knight narrowed his eyes, looking down the corridor leading to the Blood Vulture Sanctuary, a strong sense of unease stirring within him.

Everything ahead was too quiet!

He believed that even if Salrokdar had truly gone mad like the other vampires whose minds were invaded by astral spirit energy, he wouldn’t be completely unresponsive to the current situation.

The witch hunters and player army had already cleared a third of the halls, so no matter how insane he was, he should have made some response, but the Blood Vulture Lord had remained as steady as a rock without even showing himself. Either that madman planned to surrender, or he was plotting something evil that could instantly destroy the invaders.

“You take the left, I’ll take the right!”

The old Finoch grabbed a one-handed hammer and kite shield, saying to Murphy:

“There aren’t many vampire guards up ahead, clear the left side and meet me at the front of the sanctuary. If you can’t handle it, fall back, and I’ll take over the right after clearing the left.”

“Who are you looking down on? You old man with family issues.”

Murphy curled his lip, gripping his sword in his right hand and raising his hunting crossbow with his left as he flashed forward first.

It wasn’t just for appearances that he took the lead.

The vampires in this corridor had all been driven mad by the astral spirit energy and were in an odd state of primal weakness, judging from the escaped Jed’s condition after whatever terrible events had occurred here.

So for Murphy now, these higher-ranked vampires were no longer unbeatable foes, and he just happened to need to light up the 【Proof of Warrior】 achievement in his system.

“Hey, use this! Be careful not to get it on your fingers, I don’t have any antidotes.”

The old knight called out to Murphy, tossing him two bottles of green sword oil.

Murphy caught them and scanned the information tag:

Name: The White Oak Lord’s Combat Supplies – Vampire Slayer

Effect: When applied to a weapon, temporarily grants the【Holy Force】and【Natural Edge】effects. The ointment contains alchemical compounds that specifically counter vampires, granting an additional【Purifying Burn】effect on contact with vampire blood.

This is a poisonous item, do not ingest!

Each application lasts 120 minutes.

Requirement: This item uses large quantities of high-grade alchemical materials and will severely corrode weapons, so it can only be used on Commander-grade or higher weapons. Using it on lower-grade weapons will cause irreversible damage.

Maker: Finoch Lawson

Item Description:

【The witch hunters will take any viable measures when combating the unclean, and the Avalon Church’s exceptional alchemical research often gives them a powerful edge.】

“Thanks.”

Murphy didn’t stand on ceremony, twisting open the cap and using a handkerchief to apply the thick green ointment to Tris’ former elder sword, the Blade of the Desire Clan, quickly turning the blade a slimy green color.

He even sneakily soaked the bolts for his hunting crossbow in it as well, making every preparation before stepping into the gloomy corridor on the right, while the vampires’ shrieks had already started ringing out from the left side.

This old man may be a riddler, but his strength really is extraordinary! Slaughtering these weakened vampires is no harder than killing chickens.

Murphy took a deep breath and entered the corridor.

Two gaunt black shadows immediately pounced towards him, opening their blood lineage jaws in the darkness to reveal the twisted, hideous true forms of vampires. However, their skeletal, emaciated state and skull-like faces showed that nearly all the blood had been drained from these creatures.

As if mirroring how they would gorge themselves on their “food”, something lurking deep in the corridor seemed to be feeding on the very blood of these vampires.

“Bang”

Murphy’s massive, powerful blood wings unfolded like a shield in front of him, deflecting the four raking blood claws that struck them. His wings then swept outward, knocking the attackers away, while one was caught by the leg and dragged back with “Death’s Grasp.”

“Spurt”

His shadow steps slid forward, the slimy green blade piercing the heart of his kinsman.

The blade of execution showed no mercy, as if the one before him was an enemy rather than a fellow clansman.

As Murphy pulled out the sharp blade, the crazed vampire thrashing on the ground shrieked as if thrown into a fire pit, clusters of blue-green purifying flames leaping from his wound, making him convulse and curl up in agony before Murphy coldly pressed down with his sword.

The blade slid smoothly into the eye socket, easily ending this wretched midnight life and allowing Murphy to harvest a shriveled vampire heart.

This vile thing, polluted by foul spirit energy and drained of its essence, no self-respecting vampire would consume it, but conversely, this mediocre scrap was just right as dog food for Murphy’s Astral Dire Wolf.

“Awoo!”

The Astral Dire Wolf that leapt out in a scatter of stardust bounded over and snatched up the vampire heart, crunching it down a few times before swallowing, its bared fangs showing it enjoyed the taste of blood.

However, defeating this elite of the family did not trigger an achievement popup.

Murphy frowned slightly, but quickly accepted it. The so-called “elite” who was weakened to the point he could take them down with a combo attack could hardly be considered a true elite.

To light up the “Proof of Warrior” achievement, he estimated he would need to take down at least three foes like Jed before it counted as completed.

Speaking of which, there should still be a few elite guards like Jed’s former clan patriarch bodyguard rank around here, right?

Thinking thus, Murphy’s blood wings snapped open from his back as he lightning-fast charged the enemies lurking in the gloom ahead. He had a strong feeling that after clearing this corridor, his Tomb Guard Sword Arts should advance to “Master”, and his character level could rise to 12-13.

Leveling up past the Black Iron Body was quite arduous, but once he grasped the proper method it became simpler, his only regret being that levels in this “game” meant little beyond looking impressive.

Only by passing the Strength Trials every 10 levels could one gain a true increase in power.

And Murphy had already realized that accumulating battle experience and honing one’s skills was an equally crucial part of personal strength, arguably even more important than simply raising one’s power level.

“Tssk tssk tssk”

The crossbow bolts lashing out from the shadows made Murphy’s body jolt, his wings snapping shut, only to be punctured as expected. Fortunately, the non-physical blood wings didn’t actually tear with pain when pierced, only needing to be reshaped with spirit energy to recover, temporarily depriving him of flight.

The vampire’s reaction was swift. Upon sensing the lurking assassin’s danger, he immediately retreated into the shadows with the Astral Dire Wolf, muting his aura as he cautiously scanned the surroundings.

He saw a peculiarly shaped vampire striding out from the depths of the passage, guarded by four scrawny, raving kinsmen.

This one was several times fatter than the svelte, slender build typical of vampires, his obvious potbelly straining against the opulent robe like a woman ten months pregnant. A fat vampire? Truly a rarity among the generally vain bloodkin!

And this fellow’s attire was equally extravagant, his pudgy fingers adorned with numerous bejeweled rings, positively dripping with riches. A tiny crown studded with crimson gems sat atop his small head.

He looked like a walking treasure chest.

The fat vampire held a crimson hand crossbow, far superior to Murphy’s basic model.

The intricate bat wing-styled piece had an integrated core body that could be heard whirring with gears, allowing it to rapid-fire without needing to be rewound.

The three bolts that nearly pierced Murphy’s skull had come from this guy.

Yet he too was raving like the rest, swaying drunkenly as he walked in a completely undignified manner, with a jingling set of keys hanging from his belt.

Like a cat’s collar bells, warning the mice lurking in darkness of the coming danger.

Murphy narrowed his eyes, casting an area scan, with the information popping up:

Name: “Miser” Zuckerberg Teslar Lessenbra

Rank: White Silver Body – Blood Weakness (All stats -30%)

Status: Mind Muddled – Mental Instability – Pampered – Sluggish Reflexes – Duty-Bound

Job: Level 13 Midnight Hunter / Level 15 Vault Guard / Accountant – Usury Specialization

Carrying Special Item: Blood Vulture Treasure Vault Seal

Evaluation: Dangerous

Character Description:

【As the Blood Vulture family’s treasure vault custodian and the patriarch’s most trusted accountant, over a hundred years Zuckerberg quintupled the Blood Vulture fortune, while his own little vault increased fourteen-fold in that time.

Of course, it would be hard to call Zuckerberg a bastard for that, as his reputation in Kadman City’s usury circles is quite good.

For those who can’t repay their debts, he never takes their lives, only sending them to toil to the death in the sinful dwarves’ mines of the Dark Mountains, extracting that last bit of profit.

This vampire gentleman has no interest in the base pleasure of physically draining blood.

He is clearly a tasteful vampire risen above lowly pursuits, arguably even a qualified capitalist.】

“It’s you!”

Murphy’s eyes lit up.

It seemed the Proof of Elite and Treasure Goblin achievements could be completed simultaneously, though at a cost.

He barely hesitated before, sensing his scan being detected as the crimson hand crossbow raised, Murphy chained three dashing slides straight into Zuckerberg’s space, his Tomb Guard badge fully activating in that moment.

Mass Death’s Grasp released!

The chilling death spirits seized all five raving vampires, including Zuckerberg, snatching them off the ground. In the blink of that lightning attack, Murphy severed both legs from two skeletal guards, then executed the third weakened vampire by ripping out his heart. The Astral Dire Wolf also pounced, savagely tearing out half the throat of one grappled target.

After completing that combo, Murphy unhesitatingly retreated.

He precisely calculated the remaining death spirit energy in his Tomb Guard badge, confident he could launch two more such strikes.

Zuckerberg was clearly a vampire skilled at ranged attacks, and his clumsy reaction in close quarters made Murphy certain he could defeat him.

Tsk, what else can you expect from creatures like capitalists?

Calling them bullies to the weak and cowards to the strong is giving them too much credit, especially when he had a loyal hound helping him!

But what did that matter?

Starting with just one dog, all gear scavenged?

Fifteen minutes later, when the old knight arrived at the left corridor wielding hammer and shield, he saw Murphy guarded by four resentful spirits, humming an odd tune as he emerged from a mysterious closing structure nearby.

A crimson bat-winged hand crossbow hung from his waist, while he tossed an exquisite seal up and down in his hands. The Astral Dire Wolf at his feet now wore a luxurious spiked crimson collar that looked like an advanced spirit item.

Not far behind in the shadows, a unique stone statue of a fat vampire remained frozen in a pleading stance before death, but the cruel chest wound showed Murphy had executed him without mercy.

Soon the four resentful spirits summoned by the Tomb Guard’s power faded with the battle’s end into the chill air.

“You seem in good spirits, did something fortunate happen?”

The old knight asked, and Murphy pointed to the closing vault entrance behind him, saying:

“I found the Blood Vulture clan’s family vault, filled with all sorts of good stuff. Want me to share a fifth?”

“Money and treasures are useless to me.”

The old knight shook his head, saying:

“Since this area is cleared, we should continue forward. However, I underestimated you, your own kin underestimated you as well, Murphy. Does your elder Tris know of these abilities you’ve hidden, exceeding most of your kinsmen?”

“No, in her eyes I’m just a fortunate but weak outlier member of the clan.”

Murphy shrugged, his tone nonchalant yet mysterious as he said:

“I haven’t told her about this yet. I fear startling her, she is quite fragile now and should be well-protected without added burdens. So I can share more treasure with you, if you’ll keep this secret.”

The old knight ignored the vampire’s joke.

He turned and strode swiftly to the door at the corridor’s end, opening it to the location of the Blood Vulture Sanctuary. He and Murphy grasped the heavy doors’ edges, heaving them open a crack.

The next second, a terrifying and frenzied spirit aura gushed out.

Not the astral spirit energy they expected!

Far from it!

This was a primordial aura ten times more wild and chaotic than astral energy!

Exposed to these realm winds, the old knight’s face drained of color as his oak armor flickered with colorful spirit wards like a LED marquee, while the unprotected Murphy fared worse, stumbling back as if struck by a hammer, wheezing as his aura sputtered out.

The Astral Dire Wolf had it worst, banished back to the astral realm with a yelp.

It didn’t die.

But this spirit energy expelled it!

“Bang”

Old Finoch desperately shut the doors, cutting off that damned, heart-pounding frenzied aura from continuing to spill out.

He leaned against the doors gasping for breath, shaking his head repeatedly and even slapping his helmet, trying to clear the haunting visions and sounds ensnaring his senses, as the holy oak armor’s glow slowly dimmed, the danger seemingly past.

In the dead silence of the corridor, punctuated only by the two men’s ragged breathing, Murphy clutched his nearly exploding head and looked up at the old knight.

He asked:

“What was that? I think I saw all the stars in the sky smiling at me? Dark nebulae whispering to me?”

The old knight glanced at him.

The shaken golden warrior fumbled to retrieve his dwarven pipe, clenching it in trembling fingers as he struggled to strike a flame three times before lighting the tobacco.

“Damn it! The astral realm rift ritual’s spirit upheaval masked the truth buried below. I knew the events in Kadman City were not as simple as they appeared on the surface. We were used! The Goldflower Kingdom and General Loren were used!

This was their true aim.

A sub-dimension rift being opened in the material world, with the Blood Vulture Sanctuary as its beacon, and even Salrokdar was just a sacrifice!”

With the tobacco’s aid, the old Finoch calmed himself, forcefully rubbing his forehead as he said in a low voice:

“Murphy, things have become troublesome!”

At the same time, in a hidden chamber beneath the corridor’s complex structure, Maxim and Adele stood guard with swords drawn beside an ancient spirit apparatus rising from below.

Before them, Natalie and her team members were advancing.

The gray-haired witch huntress slowly drew the strangely shaped silver war dagger from her waist, her voice harsh:

“I knew you bloodsucking dogs couldn’t be trusted! Step away from that, now!”

Maxim and Lady Adele exchanged a glance, then answered the threat before them with action, raising their weapons as the four witch hunters drew blades in unison.

With no further words, the two sides clashed.

As all the stories over thousands of years about witch hunters and the unholy, lies cannot conceal the truth, only blades are the one language they understand.