Jeanne scanned her surroundings with both eyes, yet she found that there wasn't even a shadow of the Sanguinarch around. However, her intuition told her that this fellow was indeed around her.
Mistification? That is indeed one of the abilities possessed by vampires, but I haven't heard of any among the Vampires who can mistify!
Jeanne pondered secretly in her heart. From the rumors she had heard, creatures like the Vampires still had differences from vampires. It wasn't a matter of fearing the sun, garlic, crosses, or silver items; rather, it was that most Vampires couldn't manage basic abilities like mistification or controlling their blood-sucking impulses to a certain degree. According to Patriot's account, the vast majority of Vampires were extremely frenzied warriors; they would kill the enemies they saw and then suck their blood. Even this Sanguinarch was the type who took the consumption of blood as a pleasure rather than a necessity for survival.
"What's wrong? Are you so scared that you can't speak? You are Buldrokkas'tee
helper, right? Your courage shouldn't be so small as to reach this level..."
At this time, the Sanguinarch's voice continued to linger in the surroundings, as if he very much hoped Jeanne would show some kind of expression. For Vampires, the emotions of the blood host at the moment of being drained were also incredibly important. A large portion of Vampires, himself included, had a preference for consuming specific emotions. And the emotion the Sanguinarch liked most was the moment of despair right before the victim's death! This was the primary reason he was scaring Jeanne like this!
This feeling... it's just like a cat that has caught a mouse! Not planning to eat the prey first, but planning to toy with it properly instead.
Jeanne also discovered that this fellow didn't seem to be in a hurry to suck her blood; it looked like this fellow's personality was truly quite vile. And it was rare for the Sanguinarch to be in such high spirits, mainly because he very much hoped to taste what the blood of the little girl before his eyes tasted like when she was in despair. Because the blood of this little girl emitted a fragrance that could make him go mad; he had already smelled it while confronting Patriot.
That scent was a taste he had never smelled on anyone from any other race; for him, it possessed a deliciousness that could make him fall completely into a frenzy. He didn't understand why this was. He had seen many people over the many years, but just what was the reason for this level of attraction? He felt like he wouldn't grow tired of drinking it even for a thousand years!
What he did not know was that in the diet of vampires is the blood of young virgins was their most preferred food. And this hobby had also passed down to the Vampires. However, the problem was that there were almost no humans left on this land; where was he supposed to find one?
He intended to take her back as well and raise her to serve as a staple food. After all, such a rare specimen was truly too scarce; in all the years he had lived, there was only this one. Such a rare item could not be killed after sucking its blood just once; that would be far too much of a waste of such a peerless treasure.
Surrounded by the mist, he watched as the little girl, with a trembling hand, took a sip of the water she carried with her—likely to calm her nervous mood. And that incredibly sweet aura within Jeanne's blood kept drilling into his nose. He could say that compared to this little girl's blood, what he had sucked before was trash! Compared to others, that scent was like the contrast between a plate of spoiled rice and the top-tier grand feast of the Terra continent—nay, the gap was even thousands or tens of thousands of times larger!
At this moment, the Sanguinarch, who had lived for many years, felt that if he weren't still in a mistified state, tears of hunger would have surely flowed from the corners of his mouth. Having endured for a long time, the Sanguinarch finally couldn't hold back. Seizing the moment when Jeanne had just finished drinking the water and hadn't had time to swallow, he appeared before Jeanne with an incredibly terrifying aura.
That cold sensation rushed straight at Jeanne. Before her eyes was a vampire with a hideous appearance... actually, it couldn't be said that he looked ugly; it was mainly that his expression was too terrifying.
"Your blood is truly enticing! It seems this year is my luckiest year! Coming to Ursus this time was truly the right move."
No, you definitely didn't check your Tarot Cards before coming to Ursus! This year is the unluckiest year you've had in all your long life. If you can make it back alive today, you'd better burn some paper for your ancestors and pray for a bit of protection...
Jeanne was grumbling secretly in her heart. Her eyes calmly gazed at the pale-skinned Vampire before her, and then she gathered her breath. With a "poof" sound, the mouthful of holy water she was holding was sprayed exactly like that—not missing a single drop—onto this old undying Vampire's face.
She had originally wanted to try this method to see if she could fish this fellow out; she hadn't expected his reaction to be faster than she imagined by more than just a little bit! After all, if he truly kept mistified and didn't come out, then this bottle of holy water might not necessarily have been able to harm this fellow's original body within that mist.
"AWOOOOOO——!!!!!!!!!"
Immediately following that, Jeanne heard a deafening wail of anguish, a sound that even startled Jeanne herself! Even slaughtering a pig wouldn't make such a huge commotion! She saw the Sanguinarch clutching his face, unable to stop wailing. From the gaps between his arms and fingers, Jeanne could still see wisps of blue smoke floating toward the sky.
"You are... AHHHHHHH! Just what... have you done! AHHHHHHH!!!!!!"
Even for the Sanguinarch who had lived for so many years, at the moment the holy water sprayed onto his face, the pain that reached straight to his soul made him unable to stop wailing. To be honest, even Jeanne felt a bit of admiration for how strong this pervert's willpower was, considering he could still stand there after being hit by that spray of holy water.
But Jeanne also knew well the principle of beating a dog in the water; naturally, she wouldn't leave such a good opportunity and just watch. She swung the glass bottle in her right hand, gathered her breath again, and used her greatest strength to smash the bottle of holy water fiercely against his head.
"Who am I? Guess who I am! You actually dared to pretend to be a vampire to scare me? Am I that easily scared by you?"
This truly gave the Sanguinarch a surprise. That large bottle of holy water smashed directly onto his head and shattered, instantly flowing over every patch of skin on his body. This time, he truly couldn't endure it. This incredibly elegant Sanguinarch, at this moment, couldn't care less about Jeanne standing before him and began to roll on the ground in incomparable agony.
What kind of feeling was that? The Sanguinarch felt as if he were being divided into ten thousand parts, and then, while maintaining his senses, being placed over a furnace and roasted intensely. Simultaneously, he felt as if he had fallen into a world composed of knives; even the air was made of incredibly sharp knives, ruthlessly cutting his body. Meanwhile, his body had already begun to show a petrification reaction, which reminded him of his uncle who was said to have died on the battlefield and turned into a stone statue.
Looking at the Sanguinarch who no longer cared for dignity and was only focused on his pain, Jeanne felt that the holy water purification Patriot received back then might have been a bit lenient. Why was this fellow's reaction so violent? It was as if she were simultaneously subjecting him to ten thousand kinds of terrifying tortures of the Terra continent.
"CLANG—!"
At the very instant Jeanne was observing this fellow, the Sanguinarch swung his arm and attacked the spot where Jeanne was standing. It was a palm that no longer looked human; the nails were incredibly sharp, but the arm was terrifyingly pale, with wounds upon it that looked like festering sores. That strength made Jeanne feel as if the thing attacking her wasn't a person, but an elephant. Fortunately, her reaction was timely, and she used her flagpole to block this attack.
Taking this opportunity, Jeanne kicked the other party. After taking this hit, this fellow actually began to fly backward.
"Did I really use that much strength when I kicked him? If he could flap his wings, he'd probably be able to take flight directly."
Seeing the Sanguinarch flying away, Jeanne was also secretly wondering in her heart. Although she had used a fair amount of strength in that blow, it shouldn't have been enough to knock him flying that far, right? Could it be that this was actually this fellow's escape route?