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She was well aware of what fleeing without a fight would mean in the clan under such circumstances.

But she could not turn back and choose to fight.

For she no longer had any kin left. When faced with an intruding enemy of the Golden Rank on the battlefield, the annihilation of the Midnight Hunters had already been sealed.

The enemy was a White Knight skilled in natural spirit tactics and capable of using divine arts. This was forest terrain!

It was simply a perfect setup for death.

For a Vampire Spirit Mage like herself, who had yet to pass the Silver Body trial, to escape from such an enemy was an undeniable victory.

However, a massive question was echoing in Femis’ mind.

Even if these old faith remnants were unwelcome in the Goldflower Kingdom, even if the Witch Hunter groups were treated as expendable cannon fodder thrown into the Transia region, a powerhouse of the Golden Rank should still be under someone’s control over their actions.

Even if Finoch was now truly serving the Goldflower Kingdom, he should have been kept by General Loren, the commander of the pioneer army!

Unless that general had lost his mind, he would never dare to let such a “humanoid monster” roam freely.

Most importantly, if Finoch had been active in the Transia region before, why was her father completely unaware of it?

White Knights were not a profession known for stealth.

As long as old Finoch had shown himself, the Blood Vulture Clan’s undercover agents would have definitely caught wind of it. His sudden appearance defied logic, unless…

“There’s a traitor in the clan! The local intelligence network has been compromised.”

A terrifying guess appeared in the Young Lady’s mind, perfectly explaining why she had ended up in such a predicament. The Blood Vulture Clan’s control over Transia had been disrupted, and the clan had failed to detect the real threat.

Powerhouses of the Golden Rank had been mobilized. Their target was obvious.

Kadman City.

They were going to attack Kadman City!

Coming to this conclusion made the Young Lady hold her breath for an instant. Upon realizing the clan was in danger of annihilation, Femis’ determination to escape intensified.

She had to immediately notify her father of this news, or the entire Blood Vulture Clan would soon suffer devastating losses.

However, the outcome of fleeing was never decided by the one fleeing.

All she could do was constantly use spirit tricks to scatter more illusions in all directions to confuse her pursuers. But minutes later, just as the Young Lady was about to break out of the Smuggler’s Woods, a blazing sunlight erupted from behind, sweeping across the entire forest like a cascading beam of light.

“Ah!”

Femis let out a cry of pain.

It was as if she had been tossed into a boiling pot. She could feel the Solar Spirit waves searing her skin, causing it to char and burn. In that moment, she lost even the strength to maintain flight, crashing to the ground in a trail of black smoke.

This level of spirit burst had completely drained the life force of that high-ranking Circle Tower Spirit Mage, who had launched a final, suicidal attack.

But the effect was satisfactory.

The battered Young Lady crashing to the ground didn’t need to sense anything.

She could confirm that the Midnight Hunters she had gathered had suffered a pitiful annihilation just then, and now the question was whether she still had a chance to escape this forest that was meant to be her executioner.

The answer was no.

After taking a few minutes to recover from the burns and paralysis, before the Young Lady could spread her Blood Wings to take flight, that figure wielding the oaken greatsword appeared before her eyes.

Yes!

In front of her! Not behind.

This proved that the Young Lady’s earlier attempt to break through had also been under the masterful control of this White Knight. The entire forest had misled her, causing her not only to fail in nearing the border, but to venture even deeper into the heart of the woods.

Like desperate prey toyed with by a skilled hunter, in the face of overwhelming strength, even the noblest of bloodlines could not save her from this inescapable predicament.

Old Finoch approached Femis while carrying the burning oak sacred blade. The surrounding trees twisted with his steps.

The branches and vines intertwined, forming a dense “cage” that even wove together above their heads, blocking the path to the sky.

“What a lovely little girl. It’s a pity you were born with a wicked heart, just like the other vampires. You should hide in your night like rats and live that life.

But you always want to taint the world under the sun.”

The old knight spoke with a tone of disgust:

“It was you who started this war, throwing the whole world into chaos. Now it’s time for you to pay the price, so don’t give me that victimized look, child.

This is what you brought upon yourselves!”

Lady Femis knew there was no escape.

In her final moments, she refused to face oblivion as a coward, resolutely deciding to engage in the kind of battle to the death that she actually disliked.

Drawing her ceremonial dagger with her left hand, her right hand flexed its fingers to draw stray dark spirits from the night, crimson light flickering at her fingertips as she rapidly crafted a spirit javelin with thorns twining at both ends.

This was also an advanced extension technique of Spirit Blast, not recorded in the Young Lady’s manual that Murphy had learned.

It wasn’t that the Young Lady was unwilling to teach, but rather that this trick belonged to an advanced application that a spirit novice like Murphy clearly could not master in a short time.

She took a deep breath.

Her black hair whipped about in the chaotic forest winds, but she stared unflinchingly at old Finoch across from her, taunting in her cool voice:

“Remnant of the old faith, don’t put on that hypocritical air of being forced to fight! Didn’t you end up in this state because you betrayed your vows and turned your weapons on the people and nation you swore to protect ten years ago?

The state religion actually colluded with those brainless idiots from East Prussia to incite a rebellion!

After you were suppressed and became stray dogs, was it us who secretly instigated your King Louis?

The entire Portia Federation was also dragged into the Ten Year War because of your foolish rebellion!

What were you, who claim righteousness, doing at that time?

Did you join in the slaughter of the people of Iceport and the Sax Mountain that the rebels reveled in? Or did you lead the rebels into Bourbon and burn the Pearl of Silan to the ground?

Your words rebound upon you!

Everything you’re suffering now is what you brought upon yourselves!

Do you know why the Blood Vulture Clan deliberately tortures captured Witch Hunters?

It’s not because we’re cruel by nature, but because the Silan nobles secretly paid us to do it! Didn’t expect that, did you? The ones who hate you most are not us, but your own people.

And you…

Deserve it!”

Though the Young Lady usually didn’t like to talk much, her verbal ability was truly impressive.

Hitting at the core of the issue with just a few sentences left the old knight speechless. He could only remain silent, raising his holy blade to charge forward, intending to end this meaningless debate.

The Young Lady threw her crimson javelin but it was sliced down by the White Knight’s sword. In the face of that sacred blade burning with purifying flames, all of Femis’ skills and knowledge lost their combat effectiveness.

It took less than a minute of resistance before old Finoch severed her arm, and the White Knight then bound her to the tree trunk with summoned vines.

“Sharp-tongued girl, rest in peace.”

He said in a low voice, then swung his sacred blade down in a strike.

Femis closed her eyes in despair.

She could feel the searing purifying flames pouring down upon her head, perhaps about to extinguish all her vitality in the next second.

However, the expected pain did not come. The surprised Young Lady opened her eyes to see that oaken sacred blade steadily halted right in front of her head.

The purifying flames wrapping the blade’s edge were rapidly fading, revealing the smooth sword body inscribed with elven runes and the ancient, sacred oak crossguard.

“Are you mocking me? Just kill me!”

The Young Lady’s pale cheeks flushed with anger as she swallowed hard, thinking this shaggy-browed old knight was just playing cruel games.

But the truth was not so.

Though Finoch’s face was expressionless, he too was surprised inside.

This was not him deliberately toying with the little vampire before him. The purifying flames on the holy blade had subsided of their own accord, and the blade that had just emitted hateful howls at vampires had also inexplicably fallen silent in that instant.

As if the holy blade itself was hesitating, unsure whether to harm this Midnight monstrosity.

“How is this possible?”

The old knight was exceptionally shocked now.

The oak sacred blade in his hand was the Watcher, one of the old faith’s Three Sacred Blades, a divine gift passed down from the elves. It was supposed to hold the utmost loathing for “Eternal Sin Descendants” like vampires.

Just then, slaughtering the Midnight Hunters had been like killing chickens, so how could it now voluntarily withdraw its power?

He stared at the petite vampire before him, then sheathed his sword thoughtfully. Again under Femis’ wide-eyed gaze, he took out a black seed and forced it into her chubby face, making her swallow it.

“Cough cough”

The seed melted in her mouth, its strange taste causing the Young Lady to cough violently.

She cursed, “You…what did you make me eat? Vile scoundrel! How dare you treat a lady…ah…”

“What do you see?”

Finoch ignored the Young Lady’s struggles completely. The old knight pressed down on Femis’ head and interrogated:

“Tell me, what do you see now?”

“Get lost! Shameless beast, I would never…ah!”

The Young Lady gritted her teeth, refusing to respond.

However, the seed seemed to have a powerful hypnotic and disorientating effect, causing hallucinations to bloom before her eyes, as if the whole world had been inverted and distorted. She could only vaguely hear old Finoch’s interrogation.

“Tell me, child, what do you see? Describe what you’re seeing! This is important for both of us!”

He continued questioning.

Femis felt her mind wandering through a chaotic scene, vaguely able to see herself walking among intertwining starlight.

She shook her head in a daze, saying disjointedly:

“Blood…I see a tree of blood…growing from an endless sea of blood…no leaves, only branches…what is that?”

“Slap”

This answer made the old knight narrow his eyes. He then decisively waved his hand, releasing the Young Lady from the blood vine bindings and tossing her away onto the distant ground.

The violent impact freed her from the strange hallucination.

She weakly raised her head to see the old knight had sheathed his sword and was walking deeper into the forest.

“Why?”

She called out weakly:

“Why did you spare me? Are you mocking me?”

This question made the old knight pause in his steps.

Without turning back, he spoke in a muffled tone tinged with a sense of resignation:

“Go ask your father when you return home, poor girl. I did not spare you, your future fate is grim enough that letting you live is punishment itself!”

These words only raised more questions in Femis’ mind.

But she was now drained of all strength, only able to watch helplessly as the monster who had single-handedly slaughtered her entire team disappeared into the forest shadows.

Such humiliation and bitter failure made the Young Lady clutch at the dirt beside her in anguish. After a few seconds of silence, she let out a scream of frustration.

“Ahhh!!!”

Then, to her own surprise, this scream summoned unexpected help with an effect as miraculous as a pet trainer’s whistle.

“Yo, Young Lady, are you alright?”

Murphy’s voice rang out from nearby, and the little players soon rushed out from the now-normal forest.

They ran over and surrounded the Young Lady, lying prone in an undignified, defeated posture on the ground. But instead of helping her up, they began appraising her appearance, chattering in strange languages she couldn’t understand.

“You bastards! Murphy! Control your rude servants!”

When had the Young Lady ever suffered such indignity?

Already injured and weak, being mocked by a group of little players made her furious with Murphy. Murphy sauntered up, helping her rise while saying nonchalantly:

“These servants of mine are just rude, boorish but warm-hearted fellows. For now, don’t get angry, Young Lady. You need rest. Oh, you’ve fainted. What a frail Young Lady.

My brave warrior Niuniu, come here!

I hereby appoint you as the Young Lady’s official knight!

Carry her on your back.

Let’s go see what’s up ahead.”