The blade never connected. Two crimson arcs sliced through the fog, one after the other—blood-red and lethal. He spun, shattered both with a single strike. The impact splattered blood across his body, tearing his clothes. A few shallow cuts marred his forearm. The wounds were minor, but the blood refused to stop flowing. Bleeding?
He glanced toward the source. A blurred figure turned and fled. The build matched the merchant who'd sold him the flask of crimson tears earlier that day. "Finally showed yourself." Throne ignored the mage behind him, placed his fingers to his lips, and whistled. Shiu—
Blue particles shimmered into existence. A Spirit Steed materialized.
Its build was sturdy, its mane long and flowing, peculiar horns crowning its head. Torrent snorted, and Throne felt the words as if spoken. "Sorry. First time summoning you." He patted Torrent's head and leaped onto its back. The steed stepped forward, almost with a mind of its own, dodging the mage's attack. "Let's go!"
Throne kicked Torrent's belly, and they shot forward. He shouted toward a nearby spot: "Melina, this mage's yours!" Shiu shiu shiu… Magic rained down, but the Spirit Steed danced left and right, avoiding every strike. The mage gasped, his blood-red eyes snapping toward the young woman in the shadows. His glare was venomous.
The Bloody Finger had gained power at the cost of his sanity. Fear and doubt were foreign to him now. He raised his staff, and the evil spirit lunged toward Melina. Her eyes widened, but not with fear. Resentment burned in her gaze—not for the mage, but for someone else. The Bloody Finger wouldn't listen to reason, and the tracking spirit wouldn't let her spirit-form escape.
Melina leaped back, her movements fluid, and drew a short blade. Golden light flashed in her hand. The spirit, a nightmare for any warrior, melted like ice upon contact. "Throne! How dare you plot against me!"
While Melina fought and Vyke scrambled to dress at the sound of commotion, Throne and Torrent were already a hundred meters away. Da da da… The hooves pounded rapidly. The dense forest should've been impassable on horseback, but Torrent moved as though the ground were flat.
It weaved through the bushes, staying tight on the target's trail. Occasional blood blades slashed through the air, but Torrent dodged without command. Throne leaned into the steed's back, feeling the rhythm of its strides, satisfied.
This was no ordinary Spirit Steed. The first ride had forged perfect harmony between man and mount, a bond as deep as the Nights Cavalry and their funeral horses of old. 'Melina's just an accessory. I don't need her to convert Rune power. But there's only one Torrent.'
He hugged the steed's neck, eyes locked on the figure ahead. The battle had confirmed it—this Bloody Finger's sanity was shattered, communication impossible. But not all Bloody Fingers were worthless.
This Bloody Finger was special; otherwise, it would have been impossible to infiltrate Mistwood. "Torrent, catch up!" At his command, the Spirit Steed surged forward. Ahead, the Bloody Finger cursed. Logic dictated this man shouldn't have been able to keep pace. Where had he found a warhorse that could sprint through dense forest?
He darted out of the forest and jumped off a cliff over ten meters high. After catching his breath, he looked up. That warhorse had actually jumped out as well. Carrying its rider, it descended with gravity, then stomped its front hooves in mid-air—
Ripples appeared in the air, and the downward momentum halted.
It had actually broken free from the shackles of gravity and landed steadily in front of him. "What the hell is this??" The Bloody Finger crouched on the ground. The Spirit Steed in front of him snorted, looking quite smug. Throne had no obligation to explain, nor was he afraid of the opponent running away, but seeing the two serrated red daggers, his heart stirred. "'Bloody Finger' Nerijus?"
The Tarnished's body trembled. He looked up, his eyes filled with confusion and frenzy: "Who are you?" No one knew his true identity except his fellow Bloody Fingers. Combined with the fact that this person was clearly waiting in ambush, the answer was obvious:
"Are you a pursuer from the Roundtable Hold?" He was on guard, and Throne was very satisfied. He guessed right, and he could communicate.
"Shall we talk?" He held his sword in one hand and lightly kicked the horse's belly, letting Torrent move forward slowly. Nerijus slowly backed away, replying in a deep voice: "What do you want to talk about?" "For example, how to get to the Mohgwyn Dynasty. Actually, I have long admired the Lord of Blood, and I specifically wanted to ask you to lead the way."
This answer was laughable, but Nerijus couldn't laugh. He thought that if the Roundtable Hold had investigated so deeply, then—
His back hit the cliff, but instead of retreating, he advanced. "He must not be allowed to live!" "Blood Blade!" The already crimson blade emitted a blood-red glow. He jumped up instantly, spinning down like a top. "Nice sword technique." Throne exclaimed in admiration.
The sword technique was mysterious and fierce, like a falling vortex of blood. The Spirit Steed lunged forward, letting the blade graze over Throne's head, and he immediately retaliated with a heavy slash. "Horse-turning slash!" Clang—
Nerijus crossed his dual blades, blocking the strike. Before he could counterattack, he saw the Spirit Steed raise its hind hooves. Pow! This hit sent him flying.
His leather boots skidded several meters on the ground. He had just steadied himself and hadn't even swallowed the blood rushing to his throat when the sound of hooves echoed in his ears. Throne didn't charge directly; instead, he maneuvered the Spirit Steed to circle the opponent.
He saw that this person was not weak, and capturing him alive was almost impossible, so he used the most shameless tactic of a mage. While galloping, he swung the meteorite staff, continuously releasing Night Sorcery. "Night Shard!" Shiu shiu shiu... He transformed into a machine gun on wheels. The black shards were fast and dense, their trajectories almost imperceptible.
For a moment, sand and stones flew everywhere. Nerijus didn't know the Thopss Barrier and was forced to dodge repeatedly. He rolled, jumped, and used cover, but he couldn't dodge hundreds of shards. His robes were torn, and several wounds appeared on his body. He managed to hide behind a large rock to chug a flask of crimson tears, only to see a sphere flying in a parabolic arc. Boom!!
The Cannon of Haima shattered the rock. Throne swept his long sword with his right hand, and the released storm cleared the dust, leaving Nerijus, who wanted to catch his breath, with nowhere to hide. "Keep hiding. I have plenty of magic power." Throne revealed a kind smile. The Spirit Steed nimbly jumped back a few meters, and two blood-red crescents slammed into the ground.
Actually, this person was not weak. That dual-wielding close-quarters combat, combined with his unique blood-loss ability, would have given even him some trouble. But sorry, a mage with a horse can do whatever he wants. Bang! The Bloody Finger suddenly lunged forward, crossing over ten meters in an instant, like a surge of blood.
This secret technique was indeed unexpected, but the blade aimed at the horse's leg was easily blocked. Throne twisted his wrist, and with power clearly several notches higher, he flicked him up and brought the meteorite staff down like a blunt weapon. It was fast and urgent. Nerijus had to force a turn in mid-air and curl his body.
The meteorite staff grazed his shoulder, and a bone-cracking sting immediately followed. But he dared not continue the attack. Moonveil circled above Throne's head and slashed down again. He had to perform a backflip to dodge, and as he sprang up, his dual swords flung out two blood-red blades.
Swish, swish—
This skill was extremely fast; an ordinary mage would never be able to block it, but Throne extended the meteorite staff forward. "Crystal Burst." A large patch of crystals burst forth, shattering the two blood blades in mid-air, and a blood mist immediately filled the air. "Chance."
Nerijus immediately charged through the blood mist, but when he looked up, the man and horse had already run another dozen meters, and the raised staff was emitting that annoying radiance again. "Damn it!" He had killed high-ranking knights or mages in The Lands Between before, but he had never seen such a difficult enemy to deal with.
Powerful magic, running fast, and even if he managed to get close, that martial skill comparable to a knight could block him. How to respond? Close-quarters combat, or trading skill blows? The unfavorable situation made him break out in a cold sweat, but Throne wouldn't give him a chance to think.
Whoosh—
The soil was lifted by purple light, gathering into mud-stone balls, and then dropped one by one. Boom, boom, boom! Several loud explosions in succession shook the ground. Nerijus, with his hands crossed in front of his chest, forcibly charged through this obstacle. He leaped high and threw both red daggers directly at him.
Close-quarters combat—instinct had already made the decision for him. This was faster and more hidden than the previous skill, and even the Spirit Steed couldn't dodge in time. "Repulsion Wall." Throne extended his left hand, and purple magic formed a screen of light. The two incoming daggers hit it and began to slow down; although they eventually penetrated, they were much slower.
Seeing the sneak attack was useless, Nerijus, who was preparing to fight with his fists, hurriedly retreated. Just as he jumped into mid-air, he felt a suction force dragging him back. "Come here!" The gravity wave made it impossible for the person in mid-air to resist. Throne did nothing, because Torrent had already'stood' up, its front hooves kicking hard into the Bloody Finger's body. Bang!!
The Spirit Steed's kick was perhaps even stronger than Throne himself. Nerijus flew out, hit the cliff, bounced back, and finally curled into a ball on the ground. "Can we talk now?" Throne approached on horseback with a smile, constantly petting Torrent's head. Truly a good horse. In terms of strength, this Bloody Finger wasn't much weaker than him.
He might not be able to beat him, but escaping should have been no problem. Unfortunately, he now had a Spirit Steed, and he had no less than ten ways to play the opponent to death. "You... what do you want to talk about?" Nerijus struggled to crawl up. He had no weapons; even if he tried to attack suddenly, he couldn't hurt Throne on the horse. "I want to know how to get to the Mohgwyn Dynasty.
"I'll visit the Lord of Blood someday." "Delusional." "Don't be hasty. Why throw your life away for the scraps the Mohgwyn Dynasty tosses you? We're all just trying to survive. Does it matter who we serve? Living's hard enough—dying again would be a waste."
Throne's voice dripped with temptation, but his words struck a chord. Most Tarnished weren't obsessed with becoming Elden Lord to save the world. They just wanted to live. The Lands Between wasn't a wasteland—it had wine, women, and plenty to enjoy. Nerijus hesitated.
The Mohgwyn Dynasty had never inspired loyalty. It was a simple exchange: they gave power, he gave labor. "Will you let me go?"
"Of course. I swear it on the honor of the Roundtable Hold. Tell me what I need to know, and you live. The Lands Between is vast. Find a corner to hide in—no one will find you." Nerijus spat blood. He had no choice.
Speak and live. Stay silent and die. He pulled a badge from his chest, ornate and sinister, marked with the Mohgwyn Dynasty's sigil. "The Pureblood Knight's Medal. Use it, and you can enter the Mohgwyn Dynasty to meet the Lord." He raised his hand, his tone still reverent, betraying no shame for his betrayal.
Throne already recognized the badge. He wasn't fooled by such tricks. He took it, turning it over in his hand. "Not everyone can use this, can they?"
Nerijus's mouth twitched. "No. Only those with the power of blood. But that wasn't part of the deal."
The meaning was clear: he'd revealed how to get there, but he wouldn't lead the way. In his mind, he sneered. Even if the Roundtable Hold attacked, they'd only feed the Lord's blood pool.
"Of course, I wouldn't trust you to guide us." Throne urged his Spirit Steed aside, gesturing for Nerijus to pass.
Nerijus swallowed, limping past. He'd claim he lost the badge in battle, then return with reinforcements to silence Throne forever. Survival demanded it—and maybe he'd even earn some glory.
"Wait. I forgot something." Throne's voice cut through Nerijus's thoughts.
Before Nerijus could react, Throne kicked his steed into a charge. The horse moved like a comet. The long sword flashed, and Nerijus's head spun through the air. The last thing the Bloody Finger heard was Throne's cold, indifferent voice.