"Baron… why have you suddenly stopped?"
Anna's voice came from behind him—calm on the surface, yet taut beneath.
Her hand, hanging at her side, had already begun to drift toward the storage pouch at her waist.
The Black Baron did not turn.
Nor did he answer.
Instead—
A whip cracked through the night like a tearing blade.
The lash shrieked as it cut through the air, striking straight for her face—this time, no longer a punishment, but a killing blow.
Anna's pupils shrank.
Her foot tapped sharply against the ground as she bent backward at the waist, rolling away in a clumsy yet effective dodge.
The whip grazed her scalp, slicing away a few strands of silver hair.
Damn it! He noticed?! Just a little more… just a little more and he would've stepped in!
She cursed inwardly, but her movements did not falter.
Using the momentum of her roll, her right hand had already drawn the long sickle from her pouch.
Cold light flashed.
In the brief moment when the Baron's old force had faded and new force had yet to form, she surged forward with the blade—
A crescent of spiritual energy, sharp as a serpent's tongue, shot toward his back!
Her intent was clear—
Force him back.
Force him into the ritual array.
But—
The Black Baron suddenly halted.
He did not retreat.
Instead, his wrist twisted unnaturally.
The recoiling whip burst with spiritual light, and using his own body as the axis, he spun violently.
Layers of whip shadows formed a dense, impenetrable black vortex—howling like a rising tornado of death.
Three hundred sixty degrees.
No openings.
"Clang—!"
Anna's sickle collided head-on with the storm of lashes.
A terrifying force surged through the blade.
Her grip split open instantly.
The sickle nearly flew from her hand as she was blasted backward, tumbling across the ground before barely stopping.
A metallic taste filled her throat.
Blood.
"Heh…"
The Baron stopped spinning.
His breathing was slightly uneven—but quickly steadied.
He did not pursue.
Instead, he looked down at Anna, struggling to rise, his eyes filled with cold mockery.
"I don't know where you found the courage," he said, voice icy, "to use the techniques I taught you against me."
"And this ritual array in the courtyard…"
He glanced sideways at the faintly concealed formation and let out a scornful laugh.
"A poor imitation. You can't even hide its glow. Trash will always be trash."
Anna pushed herself up using her sickle, her chest roiling with blood and energy.
She looked at him—calm, composed.
Then at herself—disheveled, battered.
A cold despair mixed with unwillingness surged within her.
Is the gap between Servant and Baron really this vast?
Without the ritual array… do I truly have no chance at all?
A trace of retreat began to creep into her heart.
"Idiot! He's stalling—recovering his spiritual power!"
Van Helsing's voice exploded in her mind.
"That 'Whirling Lash' consumed a massive amount of energy. He's bluffing—buying time!"
Anna's heart jolted.
She focused—
And saw it.
Though the Baron appeared composed, his breathing was slightly heavy.
During those few lines of speech, his blood core was rapidly recovering.
I've been tricked!
But now he was far from the courtyard entrance.
Forcing him back into the main array would be nearly impossible.
"Just a useless piece of trash… and you dare dream of striking above your station?"
The Baron's killing intent flared.
With a flick of his finger, he sent a dark incantation into the whip.
The black whip came alive.
Its body twisted, its tip morphing into a vicious serpent's head—hissing, fangs gleaming—as it shot toward Anna's throat like a streak of darkness.
Death closed in.
Feeling the last traces of spiritual power within her, Anna knew she could not withstand it head-on.
In that moment of despair—
Her gaze flicked to the ground.
Black spirit stone powder—scattered in lines.
The very thing Van Helsing had insisted she spread earlier.
At the time, she hadn't understood why.
But now—
She recalled his sigh when she set up the ritual array.
He had expected this.
"Van Helsing! What's the backup plan? Now!"
She roared inwardly.
"…Tch. That sounded like an order," he replied with amusement. "But fine."
"Press your thumb—no, my thumb."
"Press it. Hard."
There was no time to think.
Anna clenched her fist—
As if gripping an invisible trigger—
And pressed down with all her strength.
Click.
A faint sound echoed—
Not in the physical world—
But in her soul.
The next instant—
The scattered black powder flared to life.
Lines of dim light erupted, connecting instantly—
Spreading into a complex, oppressive formation that engulfed both Anna and the Black Baron.
A crushing force descended.
Not upon the body—
But upon spiritual power itself.
Everything within the array slowed.
Suppressed.
"Five Ghosts Moving the Mountain Formation?! When was this set?!"
The Baron's composure shattered.
His surging spiritual power stalled, as if crushed beneath an invisible mountain.
The serpent whip let out a hiss—
Then dissipated.
A secondary, trigger-based formation—hidden outside the main array.
And he had never noticed.
Anna, as the initiator—and already nearly drained—was barely affected.
In that instant—
The balance shifted.
Her eyes sharpened.
Ignoring her injuries, she surged forward again.
"Wait! There must be some misunderstanding!"
The Baron panicked, hastily defending while shouting.
"Misunderstanding my ass!"
Anna snarled, her attacks turning ferocious—reckless, desperate.
"Must it come to this? Twenty years of master and servant—"
"Master and servant?!"
Her rage erupted like a volcano.
"When you made me strip naked, kneel, and recite the Bitter Sea Scripture while whipping me for your pleasure—where was that 'bond'?!"
"I… I was mistaken! I apologize!"
His face turned ashen—but he still bent where needed.
"Apologize?! You think that means anything?!"
Her strikes intensified.
"And today—you said that girl looked more 'appetizing'!"
"I—what? When the hell did I say that?!"
"Still denying it?! That look in your eyes said everything!"
"???"
His face darkened completely.
He knew better than to argue that line.
He had to change tactics.
"Wait! I understand now—this is about the Baron's position, isn't it?"
His tone softened again.
"Don't worry. When I pass, the position will be yours. That girl could never compare to you!"
He blocked another strike—this time, with noticeably less force.
It's working!
Seeing Anna hesitate slightly, he pressed further:
"And the relief grain—I can give you the majority of the profits. Enough to buy pills and repair your blood core!"
"Why fight to the death?"
The promise of survival…
Of gain…
Made Anna's blade slow.
Just slightly.
"…Tch."
Van Helsing watched coldly.
Negotiating in the middle of a life-and-death battle?
Unacceptable.
"Don't listen to what he says."
"Look at what he's doing."
The words struck like lightning.
Anna focused—
And saw it.
Though he spoke humbly, his defense remained steady.
And behind his back—
His hidden hand trembled subtly.
Dark spiritual energy was gathering—
Almost imperceptibly.
He was casting a spell.