Chapter 17: The Return

Qian Ye no longer wasted time, thrusting the vampiric blade into the viscount’s blood core. After a moment, he withdrew it and moved on to the next one.

The vampire suddenly leapt from the ground, hurling himself at Qian Ye with bared fangs that seemed especially menacing. He made no attempt to defend himself, pouring all his strength into a desperate attack, determined to sink his fangs into Qian Ye even if it meant his death.

In truth, once a human reached the rank of warlord, they were almost impervious to simple infection and transformation into a blood slave. This vampire, knowing he was utterly outmatched, was merely making a last, futile effort to inflict some trouble on Qian Ye with his venom.

Qian Ye sneered and punched straight into the vampire’s mouth. With a crunch, the viscount’s teeth shattered, and his fangs, which had pierced Qian Ye’s hand, broke off instead of penetrating, leaving him in agony.

The breaking of fangs was one of the most unbearable pains for a vampire. The viscount screamed, writhing in agony on the ground. Qian Ye pinned him down with a foot and, with a light thrust, pierced his blood core with the vampiric blade.

Only one vampire remained.

This one was notably timid, spilling everything without waiting for Qian Ye’s questioning.

It turned out that Fela was not as helpless as expected. As a pureblood, he possessed numerous arcane and secret arts. This time, sensing danger, he abandoned his guards and fled alone, leaving these three slowest viscounts to be caught by Qian Ye. Fela himself was probably already thousands of kilometers away, deep within the dark nation.

Qian Ye hadn’t expected such caution from a pureblood of an ancient clan. However, as Zhao Gongcheng had previously mentioned, Fela’s combat experience was clearly lacking, allowing a baron capable of entering the Iron Curtain to be trapped by the lower-ranked Zhao Jundu, nearly dying in the Eternal Night.

Since Fela had escaped, Qian Ye could only give up the pursuit with a sigh. He moved his hand, and the vampiric blade pierced the remaining vampire’s blood core.

“You… you promised not to kill me!” The vampire, wide-eyed, grabbed at Qian Ye’s hand as the blade plunged into his chest, but his body rapidly weakened as his vital blood drained.

“I never agreed,” Qian Ye said coldly.

Having collected the proof of merit from the three viscounts, Qian Ye turned and left, heading toward the human territories.

In the distant dark nation, Fela, with a grim expression, glared at Yelu, who stood in his path.

Yelu, with a cold stare, reflected Fela’s image in her eyes. “Go back to your clan and stop thinking about me. Otherwise, I will kill you right now.”

Fela forced a smile. “Without our help, are you sure Menora can face the Passe clan alone? The Queen of the Night has awakened.”

“This does not concern you. Leave now!”

Fela’s breathing grew labored, and he suddenly roared, “Do you think Menora will protect you? Without the Blackwing King, who among those old men would dare defy the Queen of the Night? To maintain Menora’s status, they will certainly use you as a bargaining chip. Why else would I have the chance to propose to you? If you won’t marry me, do you think you can avoid marrying the Holy Son?”

“I will marry no one,” Yelu replied coolly.

Fela sneered. “That’s impossible! You cannot protect your own bloodline alone.”

“That is my business.”

With that, Yelu stepped forward, passing by Fela. “Leave now, and don’t let me see you again.”

Fela stared blankly at Yelu’s retreating figure and shouted, “Why! I am willing to give everything for you, including my family name, even the entire clan! I begged the esteemed Duke Harbus for a long time before he finally agreed to support me, which might mean opposing the Queen of the Night. Why can’t I have you? Why?!”

Yelu paused, realizing that Fela’s intense desire had been the only clear indication, while the elders of the Spurk clan had remained ambiguous. Thus, the Menora clan was unaware that Duke Harbus himself had expressed his intentions.

This could have been a significant bargaining chip.

Duke Harbus was a brilliant talent in the Eternal Night faction, poised to ascend to the rank of prince within the next thirty years, and he hadn’t even entered middle age. Such a young prince was a rare occurrence in vampire history. Moreover, it was rumored he might go even further, surpassing the Second Generation Progenitor Prince Samerel and becoming another Great Lord in the River of Sacred Blood.

This was the confidence of the Spurk clan in accepting the pureblood of the Blackwing King.

But this meant nothing to Yelu. After a moment’s thought, she said calmly, “You, or anyone, are too late.”

Fela was stunned, and then, in a fit of hysteria, screamed, “Who is he? Tell me, and I will kill him?! As long as it’s not the Holy Son, I will kill him!”

But Yelu did not linger. Her figure quickly disappeared into the vast night.

Fela stood dejectedly, suddenly realizing that he had never intended to fight Yelu, despite the limitations of the Iron Curtain and his own injuries. This loss of willpower was inexplicable.

The Yelu he saw now was different from the one he had encountered before, and he found her enigmatic. She had only advanced one rank, to that of a second-rank viscount, still far below Fela’s power as a baron.

Confused, Fela watched Yelu’s departing figure, feeling a deep sense of resentment. He shouted, “You can’t escape. You will end up in the hands of the Holy Son!”

His voice echoed across the wasteland, uncertain whether Yelu could hear.

Meanwhile, Yelu melded into the night, running swiftly and silently. In front of her, a faint shadow lingered. It was Dusk, who, despite her best efforts, couldn’t shake Yelu and was gradually being overtaken.

Dusk stopped, looking at Yelian. “Sister, you pursue me so relentlessly. Are you not going to let me go?”

“You know what you have been doing,” Yelu said coldly.

Dusk laughed exaggeratedly and then shrugged, feigning innocence. “I haven’t done anything! I just wanted to see that Qian Ye. He is indeed handsome and very powerful, and growing stronger. Honestly, I kind of like him and have been thinking about… giving him the first embrace!”

“Suit yourself.”

This unexpected response left Dusk momentarily stunned. She smiled and said, “Since you say so, I will go ahead. But, what if I succeed? What will you do then?”

“I will kill you, and then I will kill him,” Yelu said coldly.

Dusk burst into laughter. “Kill me? Is that possible?”

Yelu remained silent, her gaze cold and unyielding.

Dusk laughed for a while, then felt an inexplicable pressure, gradually stopping and turning grim. “Alright, no more nonsense. Have you considered my terms? Since you rejected Fela, you should not be foolish enough to reject me. You should know, few in the entire lineage of the Sacred Blood can withstand the pressure of the Holy Son.”

Yelu gave her a deep look and said, “I will not agree to Fela, nor will I agree to you. If you do anything, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

With that, Yelu turned and left. Dusk, after a moment of shock, shouted at her back, “Are you really going to… with the Holy Son…?”

Yelu didn’t look back, walking straight into the distance. In the night, her solitary and slender figure grew smaller, eventually disappearing over the horizon.

Qian Ye also ran through the wilderness, having not encountered anyone for a long time. The Zhao clan had likely already gathered their forces and withdrawn, and the dark races and the noble clans would not linger either. He maintained his good habit of periodic scanning with his True Sight, but he sensed no life within a kilometer around him.

The Iron Curtain had covered the area for a long time, and the fierce battles between the two factions spanned tens of thousands of kilometers, turning the borderlands of the Dark Nation and the human territories into desolate wastelands. Aside from fortified towns like Blackflow, scattered settlements had either relocated or been destroyed.

Many native beasts, affected by the Iron Curtain, had become berserk, attacking any dark race or human they encountered. But no matter how they mutated, they were no match for the many strong warriors of the two factions, and they were nearly wiped out within the first month of the bloodshed.

Now, under the Iron Curtain, it was a desolate, silent world. Everywhere were signs of fierce battles and white bones, and even the vegetation was charred and lifeless.

Qian Ye climbed from a valley to a mountain ridge. The slope was not steep, but from the high point, the view opened up. Ahead was the edge of the Iron Curtain, where a great river flowed through the plain, reflecting the sky, half gray and half distant.

Outside the Iron Curtain, it was a clear day, and at the boundary, sunlight could be seen streaming down, shimmering on the river, with specks of gold, a stark contrast to the desolation behind Qian Ye.

A small city stood by the river, bustling with activity, and airships occasionally rose above it. In the distance, several clusters of buildings, resembling villages, were scattered around, with a military-style design, indicating the forward bases of the noble clans.

One of the Zhao clan’s forward bases in the northern battle zone was among them.

Qian Ye’s brows relaxed, and he quickened his pace, descending the slope in a straight line. Passing through a patch of mixed woods, the city’s gray walls became clear in his sight.

Suddenly, he looked up, sensing something. A tall figure stood in front of him.

Zhao Jundu, the foremost young genius of the empire, his beautiful and sharp features now softening, smiled and said, “Qian Ye, welcome back!”

A wave of emotion passed through Qian Ye, a mix of darkness and the persistent light of his life, of battles and life-and-death struggles, of blood and fire, all fading away.

At that moment, he felt more clearly than ever that the past was truly over.

Whether it was pain or joy, poverty or abundance, mediocrity or grandeur, darkness or dawn, it was all his unique, irreplaceable past, and the future was in his hands, and his alone.

Qian Ye quickened his steps, meeting Zhao Jundu’s outstretched arms. The brothers, after years of separation, embraced once more.