Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 174 The Truth of the Slaughter

Dragon Sky City, at the border between the Armored Zone and the Shield Zone.

A series of loud rumbling sounds and faint tremors came from the direction of the shield zone.

"We should evacuate with those residents."

A dashing female swordswoman with black hair, light armor, and thick black gloves stood on a rooftop, frowning as she stared at the tall figure in front of her: "It's not our duty to meddle in other people's business, and it's not in line with our principles to create trouble for ourselves."

But the figure was oblivious to its surroundings, gazing at the distant, shivering, and extraordinary crimson behemoth.

"Is this why Raphael made us leave?" Cohen pursed his lips with a worried expression, his brows twitching repeatedly. "Is this what the Secret Service wants to do?"

"Did you hear what the residents were saying? It's the legendary multi-headed serpent, Kilika."

Cohen clenched his fists, a hint of displeasure flashing in his eyes: "It's those calamities, it's the magicians—those legends we can only find in family records and dossiers."

Raphael...

Cohen looked at the Shield Zone, now mostly ruins, and his breathing quickened.

Did you make this?

Is this your plan?
Miranda frowned, looking at her contemporaries with a complicated expression.

"The order officers evacuated the surrounding area for a reason."

"This is not something you should worry about."

“Dragon City definitely knows how to deal with calamities,” Miranda said, shaking her head as she watched the hydra flick out another giant tentacle in the distance. “Besides, whatever Raphael has done or is going to do is not something we can interfere with.”

Cohen remained focused on the Hydra, his golden hair covered in snowflakes, but he was oblivious to it.

“That’s the Shield District, Big Belt lives there—we sat in his hut before.”

"Remember that guy who fought the orcs to the death at the Glacier Outpost?"

As the sounds of destruction continued to reverberate, Cohen's eyes filled with sorrow: "He and his daughter."

Miranda didn't speak, but simply lowered her eyelids slightly.

After a long pause, she finally spoke quietly: "There's nothing we can do."

Cohen remained silent.

In the distance, as the multi-headed serpent Kirica intensified its movements, a faint, increasingly violent tremor could be felt.

"Do you know what's the most ironic thing?"

A few seconds later, Cohen, expressionless, said to Miranda behind him, "The words Master Shao said to the eight of us on the day we—you, me, and Raphael—became 'seeds'..."

Upon hearing this, Miranda unconsciously gripped the hilt of her sword.

"The mission of the Tower of the End is to preserve the last, purest, and most transcendent spark of humanity," Cohen continued calmly against the backdrop of the rampaging Hydra in the distance, "to pass on the power of the End, to pass on the spirit and mission of our predecessors."

A complex emotion flashed in Cohen's eyes.

"Be vigilant at all times and be prepared at all times."

"When they return, the swords of destruction will be drawn once more."

Miranda looked up at the hydra's terrifying form and gritted her teeth.

"Regardless of race, nation, or rank, we will reclaim the mission that belonged to our predecessors and recreate the glory that belongs solely to the 'hunters of calamity'."

"In the darkest days, on the battlefields that feel like hell, in humanity's final moments, we will carry swords and hope, go against the tide of humanity, face death without fear, and forge ahead without hesitation."

"Charge towards those almost invincible calamities."

"This is the Tower of the End's original and final mission."

“Raphael, the seed on which so much hope was placed,” Cohen sighed, “but instead brought disaster…”

“Stop your pointless and unfounded speculation,” Miranda interrupted him coldly. “We have no idea what Raphael and Miko did—maybe Miko had a more important political purpose, and maybe if they hadn’t done it, Hydra would have appeared in Everstar City instead of Dragonsky City.”

Cohen gave a rare sneer.

"Politics?" The blond guard shook his head in disappointment.
"The Tower of the End passes on its skills to protect humanity, thus transcending politics, which is its most valuable quality—no matter how bad the relationship between the Tower of the End and the Star Kingdom was, it never rejected students from the stars."

“But we have used these treasures, which humanity has shared and which have been passed down for thousands of years, as a means to kill each other,” Cohen lowered his head and said in a low voice, “Swordsmen are proud to be born from the Tower of the End, but in the past six hundred years, how many swordsmen of the End have actually died at the hands of calamity, on the way to protect humanity? And how many of them have died from the swordsmanship and power of the End that were also passed down from the Tower?”

Miranda's expression remained unchanged, but her voice was somewhat ethereal: "Not every student can escape the shackles of politics."

"Not every student shares the same ideals and goals as the Tower of the End."

“But… Raphael?” Cohen sighed heavily. “Given his status—compared to us, he should be the most detached person from these things, shouldn’t he?”

Miranda watched his retreating figure silently.

A few seconds later, the female swordsman dropped her serious expression and chuckled softly.

“Cohen,” Miranda said, a smirk playing on her lips as she looked at Cohen, who had turned back in astonishment, “has anyone ever told you…”

"Perhaps you are not suited to be a lord, or even a nobleman?" The female swordsman gave a meaningful smile and asked with a profound meaning: "Ideal and kind-hearted—heir to the Earl of Vora."

Upon hearing this, Cohen paused, staring blankly at Miranda.

He turned his head and stared at the roof below.

A look of loneliness and desolation flashed in his eyes.

This time, Cohen remained silent for longer than ever before.

Finally, the guard's voice faintly rang out.

"Ah, I know."

“From the first day I was old enough to understand.”

“I knew it,” Cohen’s voice was calm and even, but it made Miranda’s heart sink for no reason: “I can’t be a good lord.”

There's no way.

Miranda remained silent.

Just then, the two of them looked up as if they had sensed something.

The next second, the two swordsmen simultaneously and alertly flipped off the roof, swiftly and skillfully hiding behind the wall.

A minute later, two figures swept across the streets that had been evacuated.

One of the strange footsteps was rather light, almost touching the ground, while the other was more normal, with steady steps.

As for movement alone—Miranda, hiding in the shadows, thought: they all seem to be formidable opponents.

But both of them seemed to be injured and unsteady on their feet.

“I think we should go into the Shield Zone to look for someone… even if that thing is there,” one of them said in a young, impatient voice, seemingly dissatisfied with his companion. “I’m telling you, can’t you say something… oh, okay, I remember now… can’t you give me any response—God, stop with those gestures I don’t understand!”

and many more.

Miranda recognized the two figures, and her pupils narrowed.

The next second, Cohen watched in surprise as Miranda stood up, left her hiding place, and blocked the two people who were passing by!

The two uninvited guests stopped warily and adjusted their posture to make it easier to strike.

But their hostility was quickly broken.

"You are……"

"At that time, Lady Satherley was by her side..."

Thales's squire, Wyatt Cassel, gripped his sword and stared at the female swordsman, his eyes widening in surprise: "Miss Miranda from Dragonbreaker Fortress!"

"How did you get here!" Wyman asked in astonishment.

“It’s a long story… And you?” Miranda frowned. “What are you looking for? Is it related to that disaster?”

“This…” Wyman was taken aback at first, then turned his head away hesitantly.

The other party is a nobleman from the Arund family, and even the heir to the Duke of the North who once attempted to seize the throne.

The prince's disappearance...

But the next moment, Wyman frowned slightly as he noticed that Miranda across from him also looked unwell.

Both of them simultaneously sensed the tension in the air.

They turned their heads.

Behind Wyman, his companion—a man wearing a half-silver mask and metal prosthetics—was trembling.

With a broken hand strapped to his body, Rolf, the Wind Demon, stared intently at the blond-haired guard, his eyes bloodshot, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

He awkwardly touched his throat, then suddenly let go as if he had been burned.

Soon, Rolf's eyes were filled with hatred and anger.

Cohen squinted in confusion, looking at the strange short-haired silver-masked man. His eyes swept over the man's lower body, which was covered by clothing but whose lower body was still covered by prosthetics. He scratched his head.

Why are you looking at me like that?
Do we have a grudge?
"Excuse me," the guard asked cautiously and with confusion, under the other person's extremely unfriendly gaze, "have we met before?"

Cohen will soon have no more doubts.

The next second, Rolf coldly flicked his right hand, and a hidden blade popped out of his arm!
Cohen's gaze sharpened as he looked at the familiar hidden blade.

A memory from not long ago flashed through my mind.

It was that night.

Groudon, the sword of calamity.

The girl with two swords.

he himself.

as well as……

The guard frowned, bent down, and placed his hand on his sword.

Miranda and Wyman were both taken aback, staring blankly at the two men who were on the verge of exchanging blows.

“So you’re still alive, old friend from Red Street,” Cohen said warily, taking a half-step back, his gaze sharp as a sword, his tone icy.

"The Blood Bottle Gang are scum."

Rolf's expression grew increasingly grim on the half of his face outside the mask. He let out a low growl and clenched his fists tighter and tighter.

----

The rustling sound of flesh rubbing together came from all directions.

Like thousands of snakes slithering wildly in all directions.

How many threats, how many enemies, how much danger do these friction sounds foreshadow?
Amidst eerie rustling sounds, Nikolai, living under the dilapidated eaves, gently opened his eyes.

The power of annihilation within him began to operate strangely, surging through his entire body in waves.

The next moment, the meteorite descended like thunder, bursting through the eaves with astonishing force!

"boom!"

As Nikolai revealed himself, what appeared before him were more than a dozen large and small blood-red tentacles.

The tentacles trembled in unison and attacked him from different angles.

Nicolai, who was in the air, should have had no way to avoid it.

But his figure began to flicker and blur unexpectedly.

All the tentacles reaching towards Nikolai coiled, pulled, struck, and stabbed at him from all sides.

These deadly tentacles grazed his ears, armpits, feet, and waist in mid-air, but almost without exception, they all narrowly missed his body!
The air was torn apart by the tentacles, and the howling wind swept across the surface of the meteorite.

In that instant, Nikolai, unharmed, remained calm as he swung the Soulbreaker Blade out of thin air.

The trajectory and arc of the blade formed countless ellipses in the air as Nikolai descended.

"clatter!"

Nikolai landed steadily.

Behind him, countless severed tentacles fell, turning into ashes.

Nikolai stood up and, without batting an eye, plunged the Soul-Severing Blade into the giant tentacle in front of him.

Soon, Kilica's limb disappeared from the world.

It's much easier than on the battlefield, parrying weapons from all directions—Nikolai thought to himself: after all, he's only facing "one" enemy.

He fought his way here from the edge of the shield zone, and his worries only increased.

The "enemies" on the road were becoming increasingly dense, and the figure of the multi-headed snake was growing larger and larger—clearly, he was getting close to Griveaux.

I hope nothing bad happens to him.

As one of the few Extreme Warriors who fought their way out of piles of corpses on the battlefield, Drew Griveor possessed an indomitable will, rich and shrewd experience, and decisive action that matched his superb combat skills. Such warriors seemed to be born for large-scale battlefields, and they could create unimaginable miracles regardless of whether they were in favorable or adverse circumstances, or whether they had the upper hand or the desperate situation.

For example—thinking of that person, Nikolai couldn't help but frown—the Wrath of the Kingdom to the south.

This is why, despite Griveaux's foul temper and poor relationship with the Dragonstreet government, he was still chosen as the wielder of the Soul-Slaying Spear ten years ago—even though he was cursing and swearing at Grand Duke Walton, including Nunn VII, and his parents, on the day he first took the spear.

Of course, it was precisely his bad temper that caused Grevo, the retired heavy sword infantryman, to be forever barred from titles, official positions, and wealth, and his name was not among the "Five Generals".

This, on the contrary, created a renowned leader in both the shield and hammer zones.

The multi-headed snake's territory is just ahead.

Nikolai gritted his teeth.

Nikolai kept moving forward swiftly, without stopping, before any new monsters or tentacles reached out.

After passing the ruins of what looked like a collapsed mill, Nicolai froze.

He saw Griveaux.

The worst-case scenario was that the opponent was not completely overwhelmed as expected, or had not even fallen down.

Griveaux stood perfectly fine in front of him, his back to Nicolai.

The Soul-Slaying Spear still lay in his hand, its tip still trembling incessantly.

What truly stunned Nicolai was not Griveaux.

Rather, it was his surroundings.

Behind Griveaux lay countless corpses.

Adults, children, the elderly, men, women...

Most of the people were dressed in rags, but their smiles were serene.

His face was completely black—like dried wood.

Nicolai stared grimly at the corpses scattered on the ground; he had seen this kind of death before. It was the effect of 'Extinction'.

but……

Nicolai looked at Griveaux in disbelief.

“Grivo!” Nikolai shouted.

Griveaux was slightly startled and slowly turned around.

Nikolai gripped the Soulbreaker Blade tightly—Grivo hadn't even noticed him standing behind him, something that was unthinkable in the past.

Something's wrong with him right now.

The Meteorite thought to himself.

The lame heavy swordsman turned around, trembling, and looked at the Meteorite.

Nicolai stared in astonishment at Griveaux's face—which was streaked with tears.

“It’s you,” Greaver said, biting his lip as another tear rolled down his cheek. He spoke in a hoarse and weak voice, “Walton’s White-Blade Hound.”

Hearing the familiar yet unceremonious address, Nicolai felt a little more at ease.

But he still stared at the corpses scattered on the ground and asked in bewilderment, "What happened? These people..."

"What's going on?" Griveaux was startled, his voice rising abruptly:

"what happened?"

Griveaux clenched his teeth and closed his eyes in pain:

"Didn't you see it...?"

Nikolai stepped forward and stood next to Griveaux.

He was facing the girl in front of him.

That girl with a face covered in blood-red spots and a lovely, gentle smile.

"Oh?" The Blood Mage chuckled. "Another one?"

A look of confusion appeared on Nicolai's thin, pale face.

“It’s alright,” Giza shook her head, her eyes revealing a relaxed nonchalance: “I have enough reserves.”

The next moment, the mage gently stroked Kilica behind him.

The multi-headed serpent trembled again, releasing two giant tentacles.

The tentacles trembled on the ground, then slowly tore open, creating two gashes several meters high.

Nikolai's pupils contracted!
From the two openings, one, two, three... dozens of people slowly emerged.

Approaching from the front was an old woman with a weathered face. She first looked puzzled, then confused, and then her face was filled with terror as she looked at her own body.

Among the dozens of people, young and old, men and women, all became astonished after their initial confusion.

Then... without prior arrangement, they all walked towards Griveaux!
Nicolai turned sharply to look at Griveo: "Could it be..."

Griveaux shook his head with difficulty, his eyes filled with tears of grief and desolation.

“Grevo?” The elderly woman leading the group opened her eyes in fear. She seemed to recognize Grevo. “Good child, what’s going on? I remember just now…”

"Ah!" The old woman looked down in surprise, watching her withered and thin legs stagger forward, one in front of the other. "How... how can I stand up? My legs are healed?"

“Grandma Davor…” Griveaux looked at the old woman’s figure, closed his eyes in grief, and slammed his gun into the ground: “Bastard…”

"No," the old woman suddenly realized something, and she said in a panic, "My body... my body... why can't I move? Why am I walking by myself?"

Grandma Davao wasn't the only one who reacted this way; almost everyone among the dozens of people experienced the same thing: panic, fear, and shock emerged from the crowd.

"what happened?"

"my hand……"

"Ahhh! I can't walk so fast, I'm too old, I'll fall..."

"Oh my god, look! It's a monster! It's the same monster I saw before I fainted!"

However, the crowd continued to move forward.

In that instant, the stunned Nicolai understood something.

“They couldn’t help it…” Tears welled up again in Grevo’s tightly closed eyes, his voice broken and intermittent: “They… these civilians of the Shield District, after being eaten by that monster, that bitch, I don’t know what they did to them…”

"Now she's controlling their bodies..."

Nicolai stared in disbelief at the crowd that was advancing toward them step by step.

They were still arguing, questioning, arguing, and even crying, shouting, and yelling.

Just like the most ordinary residents of the Shield District.

"Oh dear, I didn't eat them."

“They are perfectly intact, independent individuals,” the Blood Mage sighed. “Each of them is a life…”

Looking at the corpses scattered around Griveaux, Nikolai finally understood.

He stepped forward, his hands twisting involuntarily with rage: "Soul-Slaying Spear?"

Griveaux swallowed hard and shook his head in anguish.

“Unlike other tentacle monsters…” The lame, one-eared man forced himself to suppress his grief: “‘Lujue’ cannot directly harm her—it only kills these people themselves.”

The Blood Mage smiled broadly: "That's right!"

"Didn't you say you were in charge of this district?" The girl, now resembling a demon, smiled, the blood-red markings on her face appearing especially eerie and terrifying. "Then let me see your resolve..."

"I have several thousand people!"

The terrified crowd quickened their pace, blocking the two Extreme Realm and Magic Power Masters.

"Aaaaah—" Griveo roared in grief and anger!

Nikolai took a deep breath and calmed down.

“They’re just ordinary civilians… Or, we can break through them without stopping, regardless of the cost,” the Meteorite said coldly, flicking the Soul-Severing Blade in his hand, “Go straight for that monster!”

Under the gaze of the Fallen One, Griveo still shook his head with difficulty.

Nicolai frowned: he suddenly noticed that Griveaux had many wounds all over his body.

The magic master answered his question.

"Ordinary civilians?" Giza chuckled softly. "No, not at all..."

“These are tens of thousands of people, with clear thinking, sharp minds, and even the ability to speak on their own…”

"Yet they are not afraid of death, nor of pain, nor of retreat, nor of stopping, giving their all, without hesitation..." The Blood Mage tilted her head, her finger tracing her lips, and smiled alluringly:
"A flesh and blood doll!"

As soon as she finished speaking, Grandma Davao, who was leading the group, suddenly screamed!
The next moment, the old woman suddenly bent over and got down on all fours.

The crowd behind her immediately erupted in an uproar.

To my astonishment, Grandma Davao, like a feline, used both hands and feet, with a speed and agility far beyond her years and physical capabilities, leaping across a distance of more than ten meters in a few seconds, pouncing on Griveo like a hunter hunting its prey!
"No!" Griveo roared in anguish, turning his gun around and sweeping the butt of the gun back at Grandma Davao!

Amidst Grandma Davao's cries of pain, she was sent flying back into a pile of rubble, where she crashed to the ground.

"boom!"

The old woman's bones seemed very fragile; in just one movement, Grandma Davos's left hand was bent and deformed!

Nicolai stared wide-eyed as Grandma Davao, amidst her own agonizing cries, used her broken left hand to brace herself against Griveaux once more.

The old man's screams echoed in Nikolai's ears.

I am sorry.

I am sorry.

Griveaux abruptly raised his head and roared:
"Ahhh!"

This time, Griveaux opened his eyes wide in fury, and amidst the falling tears, tremblingly offered the tip of his gun.

"laugh!"

A single shot pierced Grandma Davao!

“Grevo…child…” Grandma Davo’s face was filled with disbelief.

Then, Grandma Davao's face turned black, all her life force was gone, and she slowly collapsed.

A collective scream of panic erupted from the crowd.

Griveo gritted his teeth, panting heavily.

"Sigh, these people aren't as useful as my little darlings," the Blood Mage chuckled, covering his mouth as the blood spots on his face swayed like reeds in the wind. "Of course, you're also much weaker against them..."

"Poor humans."

Nicolai stared blankly at all of this.

“They…” Griveaux’s eyes were bloodshot. He bit his lower lip hard, his whole body trembling as he pulled the gun from the old woman’s body. “They won’t stop…”

The lame man gripped the spear tighter and tighter, as if trying to press his handprint into it.

"No matter how injured or damaged they are, they will only get back up..."

This is his shield zone.

"Waves are coming in one after another..."

These are the people he should have been protecting.

"Stop me, kill me..."

These are... unarmed, innocent civilians.

"unless……"

Griveaux roared with tears streaming down his face, swinging his arms and raising his spear.

"killed……"

The crowd was getting closer.

One after another, faces filled with panic and trembling with fear, yet so familiar to him, appeared before him.

"Kill them..."

On the verge of collapse, Griveaux, like a cornered beast driven to the brink, roared in grief and despair:
"—Kill them!"

Nikolai watched the waves of people advancing forward, then glanced at the countless corpses that had already fallen beside Griveaux.

I felt a chill run down my spine.

The Blood Mage clicked his tongue: "Tsk tsk, the Soul-Slaying Spear... is that so?"

An unprecedented rage flashed in her eyes: "I know the power of this thing better than you do..."

"The power it wields in Nakaru's hands is far beyond what a newbie like you can achieve..."

“But I still stand here intact,” the Blood Mage raised his hands, a smile on his face, his voice icy: “And guess what that proves?”

The mage grinned and laughed heartily.

well.

In a state of heightened excitement, Giza quickly thought: This way, at least we can buy ourselves some time.

That's enough to search for that boy.

Find him.

kill him.

Save him!
As she continued her thoughts, Kilica extended more and more tentacles from underground.

Two flushes rose on Nicolai's pale face as he spoke slowly and with difficulty:
"So, you had a plan from the beginning on how to deal with the Soul-Slaying Spear, right..."

"Start by absorbing your 'food'..."

The mage smiled brightly.

Griveo trembled uncontrollably. He looked up at the approaching crowd, at their expressions, which were filled with numbness and despair.

Nikolai stared intently at his inhuman opponent, his heart growing heavier with each passing moment.

How to do.

Kill all these Shield Zone residents who are not actually dead yet?

Several thousand, or even tens of thousands?
Should I face her again?
“How could this be?” The Meteorite took a deep breath and slowly shook his head: “The Book of Legends records the Soul-Slaying Spear, and it also records you and the Hydra, but why is this scene not recorded…”

"Regarding that, I'm not sure either," the Blood Mage exhaled a breath of hot air, his smile undiminished, "but I can guess a little..."

Nikolai and Griveaux both frowned.

"Did you know that the Soul-Slaying Spear's power was originally called 'Destruction'?" the magic master smiled slightly. "But later, it was renamed 'Slaying Annihilation'."

Griveaux was startled!
Giza chuckled softly, raising her head to look up at the cliff of the sky, at the heroic statue that held a spear, gazed at the earth, and embodied perseverance, courage, compassion, tolerance, and greatness.

“Originally, Nekaru did have blood heirs…” the mage said calmly, “His son, his brother, his nephew, his uncle…”

"The loving Ex family."

Nicolai and Griveaux exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with astonishment and disbelief.

"Until we met on the battlefield..."

The mage narrowed his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering slightly:

"What you call human heroes."

"That ruthless, cold-blooded, cruel, terrifying man with a heart of stone to the extreme..."

“Nicaru Ex”.

In their eyes, the terrifying and cruel calamity of blood gently raised her slender fingers and slowly pointed them at the advancing crowd.

"Personally wielding the Soul-Slaying Spear..."

A strange and subtle red light appeared in Giza's eyes. She parted her cherry lips slightly and uttered a secret that sent chills down their spines:
"Take them all..."

"Leave no one behind..."

"Kill them all."

“Extinction”.

(End of this chapter)