Chapter 15: The Gathering of Heroes

The viscounts of the Monroe Clan finally arrived, halting over dozens of meters away with reluctance. Even at such a distance, they felt the oppressive domains of Ye Tong and Zhao Jung, each breath like a blade, threatening to tear them apart the moment they moved closer, let alone intervening in battle.

Felar seized the moment to rise quietly from his hideaway, drawing forth a crystal bottle to extract a precious drop of blood, which he quickly consumed. His face instantly reddened, as though blazing with inner fire, and nearly half of his power swiftly restored.

Yet Felar did not rush into combat. Proceeding cautiously toward the edge of the domains, he positioned himself at a strategic vantage point opposite Ye Tong before halting abruptly, studying Zhao Jung with a fluctuating expression on his face.

Both Zhao Jung and Ye Tong kept their intense staring battle, ignoring Felar with utter scorn.

Felar was no fool but merely had horrid fortune facing Zhao Jung. Already sensing that once Zhao attacked with his mighty blade, none could parry or block. It would become an inevitable strike.

Still, Zhao would have his price to pay for utilizing a blow of such power; a single moment of unguarded technique would surface amid his flawless skill when delivering the cut. If Felar joined the fray, Zhao might perish on the spot.

The chance of slaying the top prodigy of the Qin Empire — a tantalizing act of glory too great to ignore.

However, benefits bore risks equal. The alluring advantage was also laced with fatal danger. Should the strike come down on Felar himself after Zhao’s swing, an outright kill was unavoidable—no one could rescue him from that fate.

At this pivotal moment came a gentle chuckle — Muese appeared mistily in the air, stepping lightly before positioning herself right where Zhao Jung could not pass, joining Ye Tong and Felar in an encircling trap.

Before either Ye or Felar could adjust, simultaneously from Muese’s arrival came the transformation of Zhao Jung’s still motionless blue-green aura—it dimmed swiftly, merging gently into the gray firmament, gradually vanishing, yet strangely growing increasingly vaster.

Muese’s countenance abruptly darkened as she detected that despite the odds stacked against him, Zhao still subtly fixed her with a sharp fragment of unseen threat.

That is, at that very poised stance against Ye, Zhao might still choose any of the three for obliteration upon releasing the devastating onslaught.

In that context, Zhao himself, even at the brink of death with but one strike, would still ensure the immediate and inescapable death upon whichever target. Furthermore, Zhao’s formidable power, unleashed during final moments, might ignite a Will of the Deathgod that would certainly target both Muese and Felar in full.

Already expending precious measures to stay alive, Muese feared that the same chance wouldn’t save her again. As realization hit, words flowed from her lips in urgency, “Sister Yu, retreat for now—your lineage exceeds ours; you absolutely must survive this!”

Felar was shaken, conflicted and looking at Ye deeply without replying. Muese, being a pureblood, counted separately due to the varied origins of awakened progenitor blood; even among the first breed differences surfaced. Five of the Primarchs were Dark Nobility Lords — inheritors of the Black winglord, Ye naturally surpassed descendents of Lord Prince Samail’s lineage, such Felar represented.

Lifting one’s gaze to meet that of Yu pierced into both sharply. Their energy bristled instinctively, feeling the immense depth in her eyes—a look capable of instilling deep dread even into the boldest.

As eyes diverted from her, unexpectedly Zhao took an extended breath and increased his force. He murmured with icy detachment, “Fancies still in your heads to trap Zhao like this?”

Originally almost fading to the firmament, the jade aura surged back mightily—this time darker than before. In fact, beyond any boundary drawn by the dark deities. Still, the firmament was pushed backward, while the deity’s presence withheld.

Shock and recognition swept the crowd as Zhao once again defied expectations.

Suddenly, lightning quick, Felar backtracked a hundred meters away until he howled fiercely, summoning echoes across the land. Within moments a score of dusky figures arrived rapidly; clearly all vampires of noble titles, judging just by their speed.

Taking their places, they fanned swiftly around Zhao Jung, guarding Felar from the front and creating a blockade.

Smirking maliciously, Felar hissed proudly, “I? I would never risk the dangers here thoughtlessly; preparations were a given.”

Muese inwardly cursed, but helpless. Zhao pinned her gaze and no amount of fluctuation could loosen its hold. Felar pulled back without danger while she, with one step, faced potential decimation should Zhao unleash even his fury unto her next breathlessly.

Now Zhao completed preparations; any slash from his hand was unavoidable, instant death.

Tension mounted as the battle stood in balance.

Even surrounded and in deep peril, holding his unstoppable strike at bay alone rendered enemies too fearful to budge an inch.

Ye turned once again toward Zhao, a calm lake mirrored by his expression without disturbance of wind-breeze.

In contrast, shifting between glances was Felar & Muese as calculations formed between them: who dared move first could end it swiftly.

Felar wore superiority. Revelishing his command in the moment, he indulged and even ignited a aged cigar, preparing to lead with a signal. Once his faction attacked all restraint would fall. The lives of his underdogs didn’t count compared to the reward of Zhao’s fall.

Mid-gesture—abrupt coughs rippling near every ear silenced the scene.

Over the horizon came a tall upright figure—the man alone capable of hurling his cough across such space, striking nearby vampires—those lower than count rank shivered while even weaker among these noble ranks turned pale.

Covering the terrain rapidly in but several heartbeats, the figure stopped afar at a hundred meters. This elder—towering and stern—attired in gold-trimmed darkness of empire uniform looked strong despite his years still, retaining a charismatic strength hinting at his former glory.

He stood at distance clasping hands, shooting the vampires an electrified gaze as his eyes exuded contemptuous mirth.

Muese—receiving intelligence faster, was the first to betray alarm: “Zhao Gong Cheng! You dare be here!”

Zhoe Gongcheng, legendary commander for Zhao’s stronghold along the Iron Veil battlefield, let rip a cold laugh upon hearing this, asking scornfully,“Why could a man not stand here when you lot seem connected anywhere?”

This elder famed fighter in the Yan-Yun Zhao household possessed renown of his own—famed battle prowess with minor recognition within Dark territories as well. Under current circumstances she, at best, would avoid direct confrontation.

Suddenly Zhao’s glance shifted to a distance; piercing shrieks answered from afar heralding an unmistakable show of power.

Responded the roar with slight quiver rippling Earth. Dark cloud Zhao’s countenance fell gravely with barely audible “hum,” then marched slowly towards Zhao Jun with purposeful stride.

Muese instantly motioned Felar; Felar’s gaze flickered as he dispatched several allies instantly between them and Zhao Gong Cheng, although they knew not stopping Zhao’s advance, at least they could deny them easy convergence.

Zhao’s eyes ignited intent to kill instantly as he moved in. Just arriving with the call—a black fire burning fiercely around him—the William was already upon them with a flood tide of murderous intent.

Zhao stepped aside with one stride, interdicing several dozens of paces in instant—evidently treating William as a primary threat.

William charged headlong uncontrolled, entering boldly the scene, stopping only in face of all the eyes watching—blurt confusedly.

“Oh…uh…?”

As he observed his company closely, William’s initial momentum faltered. Surprised, he could only scratch head instinctively as he surveyed.

Suddenly crying “Majestic lords both yours and Zhao,” Muesed cried aloud, exclaiming: “Treat this as a parliament-ranked merit award from the imperial court—unite now against! Block him off, you stall the old man while we surround and destroy Zhao first, after we’ll help immediately!”

Meeting Zhao’s gaze William grew confused, an array expression surfacing.

Zhao darkly smiled back, “Try it, if you dare!”

“Proceed, now,” Muese gestured to Felar; the battlefield’s complexity would spiral, the longer the delay.

But Felar looked unseeing northwards, stunned by the distance, not noticing his own burning cigar falling unwatched at his feet.

The dim edge shimmered faint red within an otherwise gray-veiled firmament. Rising then was innumerable gold sparks; light shimmered like a golden dawn archway across the land.

Then it advanced quickly from light to light—behind each emerging light the previous held; golden streams resembling a celestial river charging directly.

“The morning brilliance!” Felar’s uttered hoarsely with horror-laced reverence.

Approaching rapidly, across the river of light came Qianye emerging into the battlefield among the stars.

Seeing the battlefield bustling with so many presences, Qianye himself felt mildly startled. His line swept across Ye Tong—matching eyes in a long deep gaze of recognition and understanding—only to part and let eyes move away with quiet dignity.

Drawing Dongyu from its scabbard steadily—giving blade one single shake—he walked with determined grace and solemn presence toward Zhao Jung amidst the encirclement.

Standing before him yet blocking were Mueses, alongside nobles from Felipe’s ranks flanking left and right. Disdaining to glance, stepping forth Qianye summoned silently an ocean rising around—a tidal surge unseen only within.

Both side-clustering vampires ceased charge instantly like meeting an invisible barrier frontally, faces turning dark purple instantly; their posture contorting awkwardly as knees crashed ground under unbearable pressure.

Bearing the force of oceanic might, Qianye passed them without halting in between both fallen, kneeling dark clans toward Muese advancing unfaltering still.

A soft cloud-like haze began swirling rapidly around Muese dark silhouette until nearly impenetrably milky—flickering she seemed vanished momentarily only dispersing instantly once confronted against Qianye’s raging surf.

The realization hit, meaning Muese now utterly lost her battle against their domains. With a deep breath, she shouted, “William!”