My Players Are So Fierce

502: 173.

The screaming arrival of death adds another stroke to ancient hatred _3

502: 173.

The screaming arrival of death adds another stroke to ancient hatred _3

“Well done!”

Old Eugene, astride his horse, praised:

“Worthy of the ‘Iron-blooded Marianne’, time and hardship have not robbed you of your courage.”

“Shut up!”

Mother Mary Ann did not appreciate the compliment.

She wiped the fresh blood off her hunting blade and glanced at the fallen body in front of her.

She sighed, pulled out a small bottle of kerosene, poured it on the traitor’s body, and ignited it chanting the name of the divine spirit.

This was the last act of kindness she could afford her old friend.

She did not know what the Vampire Lord would do to these bodies, but given the current animosity between the Blood Vulture Clan and the Circle Tower, she fully expected that they would do the unthinkable under the cover of midnight.

Yet she could no longer find reasons to blame Morphy, for after tonight, the vampire would become her lord and the protector of her faith.

Oh, one could say that the development of these events was a twisted form of black humor under the lens of a witch hunter.

As Mother Mary Ann remounted her horse, Old Eugene leaned over and whispered:

“It has been confirmed!

There are indeed disciples of my God among the ‘warriors’.

They have been baptized for no more than twenty days but have already transcended the realm of black iron under the blessing of my God.

Marianne, we have found it!

The holy land and hope that we have sought…

It lies in Transylvania!

It’s the second chance my God grants to us, the lost ones!

The blood of this night signals the last suffering before dawn!”

“Can you tone down your inappropriate fervor for once?”

Mother Mary Ann didn’t like discussing these matters with a religious zealot like Old Eugene.

She pushed down her hunter’s hat, and dismissively said with a weary tone:

“We still don’t know how that vampire will react to nature’s path.

Natalie said he would welcome us, but can we trust a vampire’s words?

Let’s just take things a step at a time.”

“I still firmly believe that this is a guidance from my God!”

Old Eugene stated solemnly:

“Our sins have been repaid during these ten years of hard journey.

The merciful Avalon has opened its arms to embrace us once again.

Transylvania will be our next Gramo Island, and we will repeat the glory of erecting the cathedral by the original elder assembly in the year 530 of the New Era.

This is what my God wishes to see!

I am certain of it!”

For the first time, Mother Mary Ann didn’t retort.

She looked back from atop her horse at the corpses lying under the cover of night, and shook her head.

Whether Transylvania was the new holy land, she did not know, nor did she particularly wish to know.

All that she knew was that after spending ten years of fighting, she was utterly exhausted.

All she wanted now was a place where she wouldn’t be spat on, a peaceful haven to pass the rest of her life.

Alas, she was nearing seventy.

Although she remained robust thanks to Nature’s blessings, she had fewer than a hundred years left.

Time had ceased to be kind to her.

But she had learned to reconcile with time, even with life, amidst her hardships.

Maybe, hanging up her armor and becoming a simple missionary or a church-caretaker would be an appealing prospect.

– – –

“So we only managed to save fewer than three hundred people?”

Morphy was soaring in the night sky, with his loyal Maxim trailing behind him, always one step behind.

The Vampire Lord looked down on the battlefield from above.

His vampire senses let him feel the life forces of the fleeing soldiers being extinguished one by one.

He murmured:

“Including the three teams that managed to breakthrough to the Andma Hills beforehand, out of 1,400 witch hunters, only 1,200 survived?”

“No, only 1,000, my lord,” Maxim corrected:

“Another 200 did not have the courage to follow Captain Natalie out of the Golden Flower Kingdom.

It has been said that these were all cowards who had grown tired of the struggle.”

“Hoping for a peaceful life is a wonderful aspiration, Maxim.

Don’t label it as ‘cowardice’.”

Morphy was delighted at the mention of a thousand survivors, which would mean 10 additional quota for him.

Considering the population of the villages and small cities currently pledging allegiance under Milian, this pleased him greatly.

He planned to take an opportunity soon to release all these testing quotas at once, effectively doubling the manpower of his underlings, which would lay the groundwork for his other plans.

“Maxim, have your old soldiers come over here and cut off the heads of these psychic hunters and psychics!”

Morphy looked at the night above, and spoke coldly:

“Pile them here!

This will send a response to the Circle Tower.

We’ll show them that tonight is not the conclusion of any struggle.

It isn’t even the conclusion of a beginning.

They will pay a price for their reckless deeds.

Not just them…

Wolf’s Bane, Golden Flower, the Dusk!

No one involved in Cardman City’s destruction will escape.

They should have all been my citizens.

They need justice.”

“Understood, my lord,” Maxim replied with no resistance.

On the contrary, he found Morphy’s decision to his taste.

The people of Transylvania would never bow down to threats.

Although their land was notorious for its poverty, barbarism, and uncivilized traits, there was no room for cowards to survive in these harsh environments!