Although these words sounded as if he were finding a better excuse for himself, the Sanguinarch did not say them simply because he had fallen into a disadvantage. He understood the reason why this Confessarius had been tolerating him all along, and naturally, he also understood just how egregious his act of consuming the blood of elite Sarkaz soldiers to recover from his injuries truly was. If he didn't produce some results, this fellow would definitely advise Theresis upon their return and impeach him during the meeting of the various Royal Courts.
The fact that he had consumed the blood of soldiers was already impossible to defend; if he returned just like that, who knew if they would start thinking about replacing him with a more obedient Sanguinarch? Theresis's usual mode of operation was that as long as you could provide him with sufficient benefits, he could turn a blind eye to some of your problems.
"Are you certain you aren't fooling me?" The Confessarius was half-believing and half-doubting toward the Great Lord's words; who knew what this old fellow was plotting again? Furthermore, he couldn't believe it was such a coincidence that, in the process of coming here to find Patriot, they could actually obtain an answer to the problem that gave His Highness the most headaches!
Ever since the withdrawal following the Laterano incident, the Princess leading Babel suddenly possessed an extremely strange item whose lethality against Sarkaz soldiers was remarkably significant. Unfortunately, they had tried every means possible but failed to find a single trace regarding this special weapon; they only knew that its existence had quickly turned the tide of the war. Otherwise, Theresis wouldn't be in such a hurry to search for that legendary horn and take this opportunity to find a way to bring the Wendigos under his command.
"BANG—!"
At the very instant the two were talking, Patriot's great halberd struck the Confessarius directly in the waist, sending the fellow flying out.
"A pity; if it weren't for that eyesore of a spell blocking it, that strike could have split you into two sections."
Patriot spoke to himself in a tone carrying slight regret. Over there, the Confessarius also stood up with difficulty, looking as if he had indeed sustained no small amount of damage. Fortunately, his spell shield could withstand that attack, allowing him time to use medical spells for treatment; otherwise, his spine would have definitely broken because of that strike.
"Are you certain you aren't lying?" the Confessarius asked the bedraggled Vampire again. His main concern was that before the intelligence over there was obtained, Patriot would run away first. When the time came, if he returned with a pile of corpses and empty hands, Theresis might not go as far as splitting him apart, but he would certainly have to reconsider whether to trust him so much.
The Confessarrii were different from the Vampires; the latter at least had the status of a Royal Court. Theresis would issue punishment, but things were different on his side. In history, there had been Demon Kings who hunted down the Confessarius clan. And the current Demon King didn't have much of a liking for them either.
"I wouldn't lie about this! Any later, and if that fellow arrives here, it will be too late for anything even if the two of us join forces!"
As he spoke, the Sanguinarch picked up a longsword from the ground to block Patriot's advance. At this moment, the expression on his face indicated that this fellow was not feeling very well. His strength could not be compared to that of a Wendigo, and the weapon he held in his hand was much worse than Patriot's weapon; he was relying solely on his own recovery ability. Standing opposite him was a pure-blooded Wendigo who could destroy a town with just three individuals!
"Damn it, if my personal sword were still by my side, I wouldn't be using this piece of junk!" the Sanguinarch cursed secretly in his heart. As for where his sword had gone? Even he wasn't clear about that. It might have been dropped somewhere during the process of fleeing just now.
On the other side, Jeanne followed the Sanguinarch's escape route and found that personal sword lying on the ground in a place where the branches were relatively dense.
"Do all you vampires have this skill? Getting knocked flying when at low health, only to find a route for a secondary power-up..."
Jeanne looked at such a long distance; this was no longer something that could be explained by being knocked away by her. This fellow had simply taken the opportunity to find an escape route. Just as she bent over wanting to pick up this weapon, a chilling blade light slashed down toward her.
Jeanne reacted immediately that someone else had arrived, raising her flagpole to block the incoming blade light and kicking that fellow in the stomach. This leg strike sent him flying directly; fortunately, he only stopped after crashing through two trees, otherwise Jeanne would truly have had to check if something was wrong with her body.
"Ugh... this strength isn't much worse than Patriot's."
The Confessarius struggled to support his injured body. He felt as if his internal organs had shifted, and he then looked at the vigilant Jeanne. He also discovered that the appearance of this girl—aside from her skin color, hair color, and the color of her pupils—was almost exactly the same as the Saintess consecrated by Laterano. But upon seeing her, no one would associate this girl with that Saintess. Because their temperaments were completely different.
"It seems the person who turned that Blood Demon into that wretched state was you. I am actually quite curious—just how exactly did you do it?"
He chatted with Jeanne to draw her attention while quietly approaching the girl, attempting to launch a sneak attack while she was distracted. He wasn't opposed to sneak attacks or assassinations; as long as he could achieve his goal, he could accept any method.
"Stand there and don't move! And you lot as well!"
Jeanne drew the precious sword from behind her and pointed it at the Confessarius and the Sarkaz soldiers who appeared behind him. In the next moment, countless pitch-black iron thorns suddenly appeared on the ground attempting to impale them, but these soldiers were also fellows who had undergone training and dodged quite nimbly.
"Tch, they actually dodged that..." Watching that only a small number of the slower-reacting fellows among them had been caught, Jeanne muttered to herself.
When the Confessarius over there saw these soldiers, he was also momentarily stunned. Clearly, his previous orders had not told these fellows to follow him. However, thinking about it made it easy to understand; what courage did this group of fellows have to stay on a battlefield with the Sanguinarch? To serve as temporary medical packs?
But now was not the time to dwell on these details. The Confessarius looked at the little girl before him; this spell was quite rare.
"A strange spell... but I can't see anything special about it. You, what kind of connection do you have with Babel?"
Hearing the other party's words, Jeanne didn't quite react to where Babel was for a moment; it took a while before she realized it was the place where Kal'tsit currently was. What did this have to do with them? Could it be that during the time since she and Kal'tsit finished their transaction, something had happened?
"Babel? How could I, a person living in Ursus, have any connection to that place?"
Jeanne did not answer directly; anyway, Kal'tsit hadn't said she was from Babel back then, and not many people on her side had heard of that organization. Meanwhile, Jeanne wasn't just standing here chatting with them. She was secretly controlling the surrounding iron thorns, preparing to give them another strike.
"You don't know? Then that thing you used to injure that Blood Demon like that—where did you get it from?"
The Confessarius only shook his head, drawing his sword and slashing at Jeanne as he spoke. That blade edge, attached with spells, seemed as if it were splitting the dawn and dusk. He knew that the Blood Demon wouldn't speak aimlessly at this time; he must have a reason for being able to confirm this point, and the thing that injured him was the clue.
"Business secret, no comment!"
Jeanne held her precious sword to meet this Confessarius; the sword was also coiled with black flames, flames mixed with an aura like a curse. The swords of the two collided just like that; it had to be said that this fellow's swordsmanship was indeed exquisite. If it were just Jeanne alone fighting him, she would fall into a disadvantage more or less.
But she wasn't alone; she had the help of Revelation! Relying on the guidance of Revelation, Jeanne could exquisitely interrupt the other party's surging offensive with every sword strike. When the other Sarkaz saw the two fighting, they also intended to come over and support their superior, but just as they tried to approach, black thorns sprouted from the ground. The sharp black thorns pierced their bodies; these people were indeed elite soldiers, as they didn't even cry out after being skewered like this.
"You really aren't simple; just based on this move alone, I don't believe you are an ordinary Ursus person. This swordsmanship—is it the Supreme Art of Iberia?"