In the center of the cathedral—
Count Palocas’s figure twisted under the refracted sunlight pouring through the stained glass, growing ever stronger. His power drained away like sand slipping through an hourglass.
“Ahhhh!!! I’ll kill you all!!!”
His lungs felt torn apart, his soul scorched by the sun. Every breath was like fire searing through his chest.
Under the torment of three ruffians, not only his eyes, but every nerve in his body suffered stabbing pain like countless needles.
He was lost, toyed with by the executioner, the paladin, and the male guard.
But Count Palocas refused to give up—he lashed out with every ounce of strength.
For he was undead!
Temporary pain meant nothing—only that his revenge would be even more frenzied.
Even with his head reeling, he knew one thing:That black-haired, green-eyed bastard couldn’t possibly keep the sun shining forever.
There were still five or six hours until dawn.
Once this damned light in the cathedral vanished, it would be these mortals’ turn to suffer his endless fury and torment!
Palocas trembled under the blinding sunlight, driven into a frenzy, like a beast cornered and beaten. Blood stains etched deep into the silver tiles.
Every swing of his claw-like hands unleashed violent gusts of destructive wind.
But around him, the paladin, the executioner, and the guard fought like madmen, their tactics utterly shameless—relentless, unyielding. Every strike shattered Palocas’s former understanding of what “humans” could be.
From afar—
Frey sat at the banquet table, calmly enjoying a midnight snack while loosing bolts from his heavy crossbow at the count.
Everyone thought he was a frontliner.
But Frey insisted he was actually a ranged marksman—better suited for the backline.
Huperion could only shake her head.
The “tank” was dealing DPS in the rear. The mage was in mid-field protecting the healer. And the healer was tanking at the front.
Their party had truly embraced “everyone in their place.”
“Once Professor Polao finishes developing his magi-tech sniper rifle, I’m sure you’ll become an even stronger sniper, Frey,” said Lan Qi with a smile.
Since meeting Professor Polao, dean of the Institute of Magi-Engineering, Lan Qi discovered the man could invent all sorts of bizarre contraptions.
With Lan Qi’s design ideas and promises of funding, the professor had eagerly begun developing a variety of practical tools.
“I look forward to it,” Frey grinned. “A weapon that lets me attack unseen from beyond enemy vision—it’s perfect for me.”
And so they chatted idly, while nearby, the cleric continued casting “misguided healing” on Count Palocas.
Since the three melee fighters hadn’t taken much damage from the weakened vampire count, the cleric didn’t need to heal them seriously. Instead, he borrowed Lan Qi’s Misguided Healing spell-cards, rearranged his deck, and “comprehended the true essence of healing.”
Every radiant beam of healing that fell on Count Palocas clouded his mind further, making him tremble in unbearable pain, as if the entire world spun around him.
“Mr. Lan Qi, please continue sustaining the sun with your mana. As for ‘redeeming’ this vampire count—leave that to me,” the cleric said solemnly.
For the high-spirit, low-mana clerics of the Fate Goddess Church, this style of fighting was perfectly suited.
The cleric resolved that once he returned to the mortal world, he’d prepare a full deck of Misguided Healing cards—and share them generously with his colleagues.
“Mm. I’ll leave it to you,” Lan Qi nodded.
Though his greatest strength was his vast mana reserves, even he was burning through it quickly after activating Radiant Virtue.
It couldn’t be helped—he was still only Tier 3.
They had to finish off this undead count before his mana ran out.
Otherwise, if Palocas regained his full Tier-7 strength, none of them would survive.
In the center of the cathedral battlefield—
Count Palocas’s eyes were shut tight, his breathing ragged. His heart pounded like a deer driven by fear.
Finally, the duration of his Blood Frenzy ended.
As the sun’s rays intensified, his power plummeted to less than half of what it had been.
Now came the truly unbearable phase.
Clinging to reason, Palocas told himself—just endure a little longer. Soon it would all be over. He would use his immortality to prove to these foolish humans the insurmountable gulf between worms and higher beings.
Even wounded as he was, give him a breath of respite, and he would recover swiftly.
Until then, their attacks were meaningless!
The executioner and paladin, once beneath his notice, now struck as his greatest threats.
Their blades spun like tops, carving deep wounds into him, their mocking laughter stabbing his pride deeper than any steel.
The cleric’s painful incantations seared from afar, while icy arrows pierced him again and again.
But the most damnable—
That lofty figure sustaining the sun, and the gray-haired succubus mocking him with her voice. Angel and demon, working hand-in-hand.
Every second was agony. Yet his fury soared, nearing madness.
“Hahaha! You’re even easier than your underlings!”
The count, drained of frenzy, couldn’t even fend off the executioner’s fists—choked by the throat, slammed into the ground, pinned, and pummeled mercilessly.
“Little Count!”
The paladin abandoned his sword, opting to kick the count savagely in the groin with iron-booted feet, bending down now and then to taunt him.
Even the cleric joined in, abandoning healing to smash his staff down on the vampire’s head like a baseball bat, laughing maniacally as he struck.
At the banquet table—
Only Lan Qi and the bard-poet remained uninvolved.
“…Uh, why has the fight devolved like this?”
Huperion stared blankly.
These three weren’t anything like how they’d fought the Saintess of Destruction earlier! They hadn’t been this… violent.
Now she could barely tell what professions they even were.
No—that wasn’t right.
If you rewound time just eighteen hours, they were completely different people!
“I asked Teacher Frey to walk them through a replay of the fight with the Saintess. Looks like they picked up some… practical combat experience from his no-damage solo clear,” Lan Qi explained with a gentle smile.
He looked every bit the noble soul worrying about the fate of the world, always striving to strengthen justice’s champions.
“…”
Huperion covered her face with both hands.
It was past midnight.
If the Academy’s teachers were still up in meetings, monitoring their shadow-world expedition, she dared not imagine Dean Loren’s mental state.
“Well, my mana’s running thin. Time to move on to the next phase of treatment,” Lan Qi finally said, standing.
The battered Count Palocas was pinned helplessly against the glowing floor, wretched and exhausted—yet still conscious, twitching veins betraying rage and the patient hunger for vengeance.
The night was long.
If he just waited for the sun to fade… his turn would come.
Every blow and humiliation etched deeper into him, but slowly, the count began to grin. That twisted, deranged laughter echoed through the silent cathedral, chilling all who heard.
He couldn’t wait to recover and capture them all—to subject them to endless torment, day and night.
These mere Tier-4s and 5s—already corpses before his immortality!
To seal a vampire count, it would take an eighth-tier grand demon master of sealing.
This ragtag band of weaklings had no such power.
“Alright, ease up.”
Lan Qi’s warm voice rang out.
At once, the holy fighters paused, merely holding the vampire down, awaiting Lan Qi’s move.
Though none believed a Tier-3 could seal a Tier-7 vampire—even if he specialized in sealing arts—they followed his instructions.
They only needed to restrain him.
Lan Qi had his own way to “calm” the vampire.
And so—
Before everyone’s eyes, as Palocas cackled madly, Lan Qi drew a magic card.
【Blood Pressure Resuscitator】
-
Type: Equipment Card
- Rarity: Blue (Rare)
- Attribute: Mechanical
- Tier: 1
- Effect: Inflicts minor life-drain; attacking an immobilized enemy causes continuous bleeding.
- Note: Protect your cardiovascular health.
In his hand appeared a massive medical syringe.
Everyone in the cathedral froze.
Just one plunge, and it looked like he could draw out two liters of blood.
Still laughing, the blind Palocas had no idea what Lan Qi held—or what was about to happen to him.
Even Huperion, ever at his side, shuddered with goosebumps at the sight.
A giant intravenous syringe—fearsome not only to vampires, but to humans as well!
As a card, it was unimpressive. Just sturdier, bigger than a normal syringe.
But in truth—it wasn’t equipment at all. It was an instrument of torture.
Lan Qi approached the laughing count. Hearing that laughter, he felt reassured.
Since the count was in such high spirits, he’d surely handle the injection just fine.
To prevent Palocas from getting too excited once the sun faded, Lan Qi decided to lower his “blood pressure” first.
After accidentally giving Examiner Ferat a cerebral hemorrhage during the academy entrance exam, Lan Qi had been mulling over medical tools for emergencies.
And just before this shadow-world challenge, he’d created a simple card meant specifically for vampires.
Much of their strength came from blood.
Even if drained, vampires wouldn’t die—but they’d be immobilized, taking a long time to recover.
“Sorry—I’m still not skilled in sealing arts. This is the best I can do,” Lan Qi said, embarrassed, to the laughing count.
If spells couldn’t seal him—then he’d just have to dry him out physically.