The marquis raised his left hand, pointing at Qian Ye with a long-nailed index finger, and a stream of blood energy shot towards him. The blood energy was deep and obscure, exceptionally fierce, and as sharp as a blade, leaving dark red marks wherever it passed, which did not fade for a long time.
Qian Ye sneered inwardly; this marquis was indeed playing the age card, fully confident in overwhelming him. Attacking with blood energy was only effective if one’s bloodline essence and actual power far surpassed that of the opponent. The ancient bloodlines of the twelve noble clans were naturally of extremely high quality, and he was a marquis, while Qian Ye was only a Count of Jardine. It seemed like a perfectly natural choice. If the blood energy hit, it could cripple Qian Ye in a single blow.
However, he was too arrogant, so much so that it blinded his judgment and prevented him from seeing the true nature of Qian Ye’s dark golden blood energy.
Qian Ye did not dodge but raised his hand and fired a stream of blood energy back instantly.
The blood energy was as fast as lightning, hitting both of them almost simultaneously. At the moment of impact, both Qian Ye and the marquis had a small hole appear on their chests. The wound was no bigger than a needle prick, and for a bloodline race, even a through-and-through injury would only be a minor flesh wound. The real damage came from the intruding blood energy. The battlefield where blood energies clashed would determine the outcome.
Qian Ye’s face turned pale, and he looked down at his chest. Dark blood energy lingered around the wound, preventing it from healing. Moreover, the wound was extremely deep, piercing directly into the blood core, even tearing a hole in it. The strength of an ancient noble clan’s marquis was undeniably greater than that of an ordinary marquis. This strike had pierced Qian Ye’s body, directly injuring the blood core. For a bloodline race, the blood core was even more vital than a human heart; any injury to it, no matter how small, was severe.
The marquis’s face turned even paler, yet he managed a menacing smile. He knew that his blood energy had wounded Qian Ye’s blood core. Next, the blood energy should invade the core, completely destroying Qian Ye from the source. In a blood energy battle, Qian Ye had no chance of winning against the twelve ancient noble clans. Each of these ancient clans was born from the very first drop of blood from the River of Blood, and no bloodline race could surpass them in terms of bloodline power.
The marquis also had a wound on his chest, but Qian Ye’s blood energy, lacking in volume, dissipated before reaching the blood core, spreading throughout his body. The battle of blood energy would follow, but every bloodline race knew that the key lay in whether or not the blood energy could reach and destroy the core.
The old marquis, now filled with lingering fear, also felt a twisted sense of relief. He never expected that a half-blood count from the neutral lands could pierce his chest with blood energy. But it would end here. A count was just a count, and in a blood energy battle, he could never win against an ancient noble clan’s marquis.
If not for the great enemy still lurking behind, the old marquis would have taken this damned mixed-blood back to his clan, imprisoning him in the blood prison for a hundred years to atone for the sin of wounding his body.
At this moment, Qian Ye’s blood core surged with energy, and a dark golden flame suddenly ignited, incinerating all the invading foreign blood energy in one go. The dark golden blood energy seemed to disdain the intruders, not even attempting to devour them, but instead using its flames to obliterate them. Instantly, a flame spurted from Qian Ye’s chest wound, and then the wound slowly closed.
The old marquis’s pupils constricted in shock, never expecting his blood energy to be defeated so quickly. Hadn’t it just penetrated the blood core? As this thought crossed his mind, he felt pinpricks of pain all over his body, and his blood energy rapidly depleted. In a panic, he hurriedly examined his internal condition, only to see Qian Ye’s dispersed blood energy wandering about, continuously destroying his flesh and blood. His own blood energy naturally fought back, but it crumbled at the slightest touch with Qian Ye’s. It often took seven or eight of his own streams of blood energy to destroy just one of Qian Ye’s.
The marquis was astonished, pointing at Qian Ye and stammering, “You, you have the potential of a duke, no, a prince?!”
Qian Ye did not respond but stepped forward, his sword Dongyue flashing with primal force, ready to pierce the marquis’s blood core. He had chosen this mutually destructive method of fighting with blood energy because it could decide the outcome in an instant. Qian Ye did not want to waste another moment; he wished to rush to the center of the battlefield to rescue Nightray.
At that moment, the marquis was desperately trying to eliminate Qian Ye’s blood energy within his body. Fortunately, his blood core was intact, giving him some room to resist. Seeing Qian Ye approaching with his sword, the marquis retreated while calling for reinforcements from his subordinates.
But Qian Ye gave him no respite. With a cold smile, he thrusted Dongyue, aiming straight for the blood core!
Just as Dongyue’s tip was about to pierce the marquis’s chest, a hand suddenly appeared, clutching the marquis’s blood core. The core was still struggling and pulsing.
The old marquis’s face froze, turning ashen. He wanted to look back, but he found himself powerless.
Not only the old marquis, but Qian Ye was also shocked. He hadn’t expected someone to interfere at such a critical moment. This person had approached without a sound, so close that Qian Ye hadn’t even noticed.
Seeing that hand, Qian Ye’s heart suddenly raced.
The marquis’s body slumped, and Nightray emerged from behind him, her fingers spread wide, letting the blood core fall to the ground. The old marquis gasped, blood gushing from his throat, trying to reach out and pick up the fallen core. But he could only extend his hand halfway before falling to the ground, motionless.
Nightray glared at Qian Ye, her voice cold, “Why did you interfere?”
“I wanted to kill these guys myself. It has nothing to do with you,” Qian Ye replied firmly.
Nightray snorted and turned away, looking back to see a figure rushing down the mountain through the snow, looking somewhat flustered. This was the last marquis, who was supposed to keep Nightray occupied until the old marquis dealt with Qian Ye. But Nightray had suddenly left the battlefield, swiftly killing the old marquis. His speed was far inferior to hers, and he only reached the middle of the mountain now.
Seeing the old marquis’s corpse, the marquis’s face changed drastically, unable to believe what he was seeing as he backed away.
Nightray snorted and ordered, “Galinan, kneel!”
The marquis’s face shifted, his cheeks twitching. He looked at Nightray and then at Qian Ye, finally making a decision. Kneeling on one knee, he lowered his head and said, “Marquis Galinan of Silver Wing, am willing to serve the great Princess Nightray from now on.”
As Galinan submitted, the remaining bloodline warriors were greatly alarmed, exchanging glances before turning to flee. Galinan, eager to prove his worth, suddenly pounced, instantly killing two third-rank counts. When he rose, his murderous intent brimming, preparing to chase the four remaining viscounts, he saw Qian Ye’s figure flash, and Dongyue had already pierced the blood core of the last viscount. Galinan’s heart shuddered as he looked around, only to see the other three viscounts also lying lifeless. In just that instant, Qian Ye had killed all four fleeing viscounts?
Galinan felt a chill; he knew that Qian Ye’s strength was not to be underestimated. Kneeling before Nightray, he said, “Please, Your Highness, grant me your blood.”
Granting blood was a ritual of loyalty among the bloodline races, where the superior granted a drop of source blood to the subordinate, integrating it into their bloodline. The subordinate would gain strength but also be subject to the control of the superior. Although the control was not as absolute as with direct descendants, betrayal would still come at a heavy cost. Only a true superior bloodline race had the right to grant blood.
Nightray nodded, drawing her blood-sucking blade and walking towards Galinan. Seeing her approval, Galinan’s anxiety vanished, replaced by a mix of excitement and fear.
As a marquis with the title of Silver Wing, Galinan’s strength was even greater than the other two marquises, and he had the potential to advance further. His bloodline originated from King Medanzo, and for Nightray to complete the blood-granting ritual, her bloodline must be stronger than Medanzo’s. If that were true, then the duke’s final cry might indeed be genuine.
Nightray walked behind Galinan, her blade piercing his back and entering his blood core.
Waves of intense pain surged through his body, and Galinan trembled, but dared not move. Nightray’s face turned slightly pale as a drop of source blood flowed through the blade and into Galinan’s body.
Galinan’s blood energy roiled, and he let out a painful, low roar, his hands gripping the hard rock. But soon, he gradually calmed down, his vitality returning. Without waiting to fully recover, he leapt to his feet and knelt before Nightray, respectfully saying, “Thank you, Your Highness, for granting me your blood!”
Nightray said coolly, “Rise. You are worthy of my source blood.”
Galinan, feeling honored, stood up and moved behind her.
Qian Ye understood the blood-granting ritual well. Seeing Nightray’s dominance over Medanzo’s bloodline in such a short time, it indicated that in terms of bloodline essence, Nightray was not just a bit stronger, but significantly so.
In fact, even without the ritual, her mastery of power was enough to confirm the words of “above the holy mountain.”
With the blood-granting ritual completed, Qian Ye asked, “Why is this happening?”
“What?” Nightray seemed to not understand, looking away.
Qian Ye stepped in front of her, blocking her gaze, and repeated, “Why is this happening?”
“Would it help if you knew?” Nightray replied coolly.
“How can we know if we don’t try?” Qian Ye met her eyes, refusing to back down.
Nightray laughed self-deprecatingly, “Perhaps, not everyone welcomes my return to the Holy Mountain.”
Her brows carried a faint, unmasked desolation.
Seeing that Qian Ye still did not fully understand, she added, “The highest throne on the Holy Mountain is already occupied.”
Qian Ye finally understood; Nightray was referring to Lilith, the Queen of the Night. He pointed at Galinan and asked, “Then these people…”
“Some do not want me to ascend, and others desire my bloodline.”
Thinking of Medanzo’s previous request to the Imperial military for Nightray, Qian Ye suddenly understood many of the causes and consequences.
Lilith, now residing on the Holy Mountain, held the titles of Queen of the Night and the second drop of the River of Blood, occupying a supreme position among all bloodline races. Throughout the entire Evernight World, only the demon aristocracy’s sovereign could rival her.
With the Queen of the Night at the peak of the Holy Mountain and the King of Darkness blocking the way, no wonder Nightray, despite her strength and pride after awakening, showed a trace of despair and loneliness.
For her, this might be the only purpose of her life.
Qian Ye felt a surge of passion and said, word by word, “I will send you to the Holy Mountain!”
“What?” Nightray couldn’t believe her ears.
“I will send you to the Holy Mountain!”
“Just you?”
Qian Ye’s voice was low, but firm, “Not now, but one day, I will send you to the top of the Holy Mountain!”
“Do you know… what that means?”
“I do.” Qian Ye knew it meant war against the entire Evernight World, and possibly even the Empire.
Nightray’s gaze lowered, and she asked, “Why?”
“Because you want to.”
“Just… because of that?”
“Just because of that.”
Nightray fell silent, and the only sound on the mountain was the howling wind. In the blizzard, Qian Ye’s voice echoed, resolute and unwavering.
“One day, I will send you to the top of the Holy Mountain!”
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