Ch.110Chapter 110: Clash (3)

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Without lowering the blazing energy in his eyes.

Sanguin fixed his gaze on the woman holding something that stood out conspicuously in this space where everything except himself had stopped.

The gleam emanating from his fixed stare revealed his contemplation about what to do with that brightly shining holy sword and the holy swordswoman wielding it.

If he followed his instincts, he would take advantage of his opponent’s immobilized state to mercilessly slice open the woman’s heart, drain her blood to neutralize the holy sword’s power, but…

Today was a day of falling white snow.

It was a day when the great being he revered had strictly commanded that no blood should be spilled.

“No, I can’t do that.”

Sanguin gently shook his head from side to side, calming even the blazing light in his eyes.

“I mustn’t disobey my lord’s command, and besides, this isn’t my mission. Even if it were, I’d be too afraid to touch her.”

Speaking with a voice filled with resignation—completely contrasting his previous intensity—he increased the distance between himself and the holy swordswoman.

Even though maintaining distance made no difference when everything was frozen in time.

If someone from the Demon Realm had witnessed this scene, they might have mocked Sanguin’s passive behavior.

Unlike the fierce passion he displayed upon discovering the holy sword,

Sanguin’s expression as he carefully widened the gap revealed his extreme tension.

Thick cold sweat trickled down his pale skin, which otherwise seemed incapable of producing even a single drop of sweat, let alone blood.

“Mmm…”

Each time the holy sword’s radiance intensified—even in this time-stopped state—a soft groan tinged with pain escaped his lips.

It couldn’t be helped.

No matter how much he was favored by the demon god as a powerful being who had turned his back on the Blood Pentagram,

The holy sword—created through divine intervention by transcendent beings from on high to counter such overwhelming powers—was a hateful divine artifact that even he could not oppose.

If he had been in his prime from a thousand years ago, or

If he had been equipped with divine armaments comparable to the holy sword, like his old friend who taught him the power to stop time,

He might have been able to face the holy swordswoman somehow.

Unfortunately, Sanguin currently possessed neither of these advantages.

“It’s not like I’m desperate enough to make futile attempts while on a mission.”

Forcing himself to speak calmly, Sanguin abandoned any attempt to physically harm the holy swordswoman and gazed longingly at the holy sword.

As if mocking the situation where nothing should move except for him who had stopped everything,

Wooong-!!

The radiance emitting from the holy sword actually intensified.

“…I’ll really get hurt if I get any closer.”

Suppressing his fear, Sanguin took another step back.

The increasingly dense light from the holy sword made him feel as though it was constricting his body.

Impossible.

As he retreated, a verdict echoed in Sanguin’s mind that no matter what he tried, he could not harm the holy swordswoman in his current state.

“How is this ‘not strong yet,’ Laplace?”

While stepping back, Sanguin resentfully uttered the name of his friend who had assured him that the holy swordswoman’s power would not yet be strong.

Laplace.

A demon who served the demon god Renium—a great being of equal power to Desire whom Sanguin himself served—and

One of the few beings acknowledged as a friend by the proud vampire king.

Though they couldn’t always meet due to residing in different spaces and time axes,

It was Laplace who had forcibly roused him from his coffin where he had been recuperating whenever possible to heal the wounds suffered during the Great Holy War, and taught him the power to stop time.

Not only the power, but through Laplace, he had learned many stories.

For Sanguin, who had grown ignorant of the outside world due to repeatedly falling asleep and awakening, every story Laplace shared was precious information.

From the news that after a thousand years, a holy swordswoman with the qualities to truly awaken the holy sword’s light had finally appeared,

To the information that this holy swordswoman would destroy everything in the Demon Realm he belonged to in the near future.

This information—almost like a prophecy from a demon who served under the time-controlling demon god—was compelling enough to change Sanguin’s mind, who had intended to refrain from any activity until his body fully recovered.

Since the demon god who had saved Sanguin when his clan, the cursed night folk, faced extinction while being despised, was practically everything to him,

It was only natural that he should use his body to stop anyone trying to destroy that, regardless of who they were.

That’s why he had awakened boldly, determined to weaken human forces in advance,

And approached their fortress to shatter it to pieces—an event that had happened just a few days ago.

“Haa…”

Recalling the events from a few days ago, a faint, bitter sigh escaped Sanguin’s lips.

His undead legion—which, though individually weak, could exert power stronger than any other legion when gathered—had been reduced to ashes by a single slash from a man’s sword.

Even the Behemoth, which he had obtained with great difficulty by begging Adorator who had insisted he couldn’t spare any, had perished under the sword of a man who was barely visible in the distance.

Amidst all this, he had barely managed to escape with his life—a disgraceful memory that could only elicit sighs.

“Ugh, those vicious humans. How did they become even stronger than a thousand years ago?”

Without ceasing his grumbling, Sanguin closed his eyes and recalled the events of the past few days.

They came to mind as soon as he closed his eyes.

The scene of a gloomy sky covered in volcanic ash clearing when a certain man swung his sword once, allowing the bright sunlight he so despised to shine upon this frigid land.

And the memory of reporting this incident to Adorator, his nominal superior, after barely suppressing his shock and anger at defeat, only to have both his cheeks stinging so badly that they could be described as being on fire.

These past few days could truly be called the worst period for Sanguin since the Great Holy War a thousand years ago.

But even so,

“Unlike other races, humans live barely a hundred years, yet when they reach their shining moment, they glow brighter than any other being—this characteristic has grown stronger.”

Sanguin’s voice remained calm as he uttered words that could have been resentment, fear, or lamentation about humans.

Why was his voice so calm when speaking about humans, who were essentially the archenemies of the demon race he belonged to?

This was because despite Sanguin belonging to the Demon Realm and serving a demon god who sought to dominate and oppress humans,

Sanguin himself did not intensely hate humans, allowing him to speak of human strength and beauty from a somewhat objective perspective.

“They shine so brightly that they temporarily blinded even my eyes.”

…Is that really objective?

Strangely, Sanguin’s expression showed an unusual warmth that didn’t match his pale skin as he spoke these words.

But as he retreated from the holy sword’s light only to be forced back further by its intensifying radiance,

The warmth disappeared from his expression, and from his lips came:

“I’ve got more complaints to throw at Laplace when I meet him later.”

Expressing his determination to severely scold his friend who had given him incorrect information that almost caused him serious injury, he stepped back once more.

When he had finally widened the gap enough that no sword swing could reach him, he breathed a sigh of relief at no longer being affected by the light emitting from the holy sword, but he had no time to rest.

Now Sanguin’s gaze turned from the holy swordswoman, whom he had given up trying to physically harm, to the girl trembling in fear beside her.

“Hmm…”

It took only a moment for a peculiar expression to cross Sanguin’s face as he looked at the girl.

“I thought she was just a member of my clan…”

Sanguin uttered these words with a hint of bewilderment as he looked at the girl who had caused him to act impulsively.

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At first, when he received the mission from Adorator to steal all the magic stones stored in the magic path at the center of the fortress,

Pail Sanguin had no intention of doing anything beyond his assigned task.

His plan was to completely neutralize the fortress’s security using the time-stopping power Laplace had taught him,

Then stealthily infiltrate the fortress, steal all the magic stones necessary for its operation,

And incidentally familiarize himself with the fortress’s internal structure to gather preliminary information for a future large-scale invasion.

This was the maximum action he intended to take while adhering to his lord’s command not to engage in armed conflict when white snow was falling.

However, Sanguin’s plan went awry as soon as he infiltrated the fortress in the late evening and used his sensing ability to detect someone of his own vampire clan.

He immediately realized through his sensing ability that this was not a pureblood but a mixed-blood with another race.

While ordinary demons might not care much about the welfare of mixed-blood demons rather than purebloods,

To Sanguin, anyone sharing his blood—whether pureblood or mixed—was family to be protected.

So he ignored his initial plan to infiltrate the fortress before stopping time and instead immediately froze time and rushed toward where he sensed his clan member.

What he encountered there was a pair of men and women surrounding his clan member with concerned expressions.

The holy swordswoman with the qualities to fully unleash the holy sword’s power after a thousand years, as his old friend Laplace had warned him about,

And a man with red hair reminiscent of his ancient nemesis from a thousand years ago.

They were undoubtedly the ones who had given his friend such a hard time.

Laplace had specifically warned him to be careful of the red-haired man who would be immune to his time-stopping power, unlike the holy swordswoman who had deliberately been made resistant to it.

But seeing at a glance that the red-haired man was weaker than the holy swordswoman,

Sanguin disregarded his friend’s warning, thinking it unlikely that the man could move freely in stopped time.

To protect his clan member, he extended his hand like a blade, targeting not the holy swordswoman whom he would find difficult to harm with his abilities, but the red-haired man, intending to subdue him.

It was an attack aimed at the heart, a vital point,

But realizing mid-strike that it was the snowy season, he hadn’t truly intended to take the heart.

His attack was meant to deliver a strong shock to the heart to completely stop the man’s movements.

What Sanguin overlooked was that

The man clearly perceived his lightning-fast attack in the time-stopped space and moved to block it.

As Laplace had worried, this man indeed possessed the ability to resist the time-stopping power partially borrowed from the great being Lord Renium.

Well, regardless of his surprise, he was relieved to see that the man’s skill wasn’t much, as he lost consciousness after falling backward while clumsily trying to block his attack.

He would have liked to finish the man off,

But having no intention whatsoever of defying his lord’s strict command not to spill blood on days when white snow fell,

Sanguin had no other intentions beyond quickly completing his mission and protecting his clan member.

So, deliberately ignoring the holy swordswoman and the red-haired man, Sanguin turned his attention to the girl presumed to be his clan member who had prompted his movement.

And while feeling something and continuing to experience confusion as he looked at his clan member,

“Now that I look at her, she resembles…”

Speaking with a rather wistful voice toward the girl, he began to recall a not-too-distant past.

Decades ago, despite needing to recuperate, he had whimsically wandered around human territories including the north.

He remembered a woman who had treated him without prejudice despite knowing he was of the night folk, not human.

His reminiscence ended at the point where he noticed the similarity between that woman in his memories and this girl’s appearance.

“Could it be…”

Just as Sanguin’s expression was about to turn serious with this realization,

Crunch

Hearing a sound that shouldn’t exist from behind him, Sanguin had to forcibly snap out of his reverie.

In this place where time had stopped and no sound should be heard except his own, another exception had occurred, necessitating preparation.

Who? Who on earth could move and resist the power inherited from the time-controlling demon god?

Such questions continuously ran through Sanguin’s mind until he turned his body toward the sound.

But the moment he confirmed what was at the end of his gaze after hastily turning around,

“…Huh?”

Sanguin’s voice couldn’t help but reveal his bewilderment.

“No, you’re getting up again after receiving such a shock?”

Because the being at the end of his gaze was the opponent he had just knocked unconscious.

“I’ll have to knock you out again.”

Surprised, Sanguin assumed a combat stance again to subdue his opponent, but,

“…Hmm?”

Sensing something strange about his opponent’s condition, he withdrew his attacking motion and carefully observed the man.

With his head bowed low, his facial expression couldn’t be read,

But the sounds that should be heard from a living, moving being—such as breathing and heartbeat—were extremely faint.

From this, it was clear that the man before him had not regained consciousness but was still in an unconscious state.

Whether it was due to tenacity or some other reason,

The sight of the man rising despite being unconscious and showing the will to confront him was enough to surprise Sanguin.

“Damn. You’re startling me.”

After confirming that his opponent was unconscious, he breathed a sigh of relief to calm his surprised heart.

But perhaps his pride was hurt by the fact that he had been startled by someone who wasn’t even a holy swordswoman,

“Then go back to sleep!”

Sanguin extended his hand again, intending to strike the top of the opponent’s head.

Even though the man had a body sturdy enough to rise shortly after losing consciousness from the previous shock,

Sanguin was confident that this blow would make him collapse to the ground and fall asleep again.

But as he brought his hand down,

“…Huh?”

He sensed something was wrong when he felt his body floating in the air as his right hand cleanly descended from above.

“Hey.”

With the fierce voice coming from the mouth of the unconscious man, that thought undoubtedly grew stronger.