Knights and Magic Wand
Chapter 587 - 587 276 Revenge Blood_2

587: Chapter 276 Revenge Blood_2 587: Chapter 276 Revenge Blood_2 “What do you think…

of my golden hair?

Is it beautiful?”

“Your Highness’s golden hair is soft and silky, very beautiful,” Agatha nodded.

“…How does it compare to Miss Olivia’s?”

“Uh, they seem about the same.”

Agatha was taken aback for a moment and answered truthfully.

Ines discreetly furrowed her brows.

“Can’t you flatter me a bit at this moment?”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness’s golden hair is much more beautiful than Miss Olivia’s,” Agatha quickly and honestly corrected herself.

But holding the little princess’s wet hair, after some thought, the Female Knight cautiously advised:

“Your Highness…

I cannot defeat Miss Olivia…

Her strength is even greater than what I saw last time.”

Ines seemed to be choked for a moment and couldn’t help but reprimand:

“…What nonsense are you saying?

It’s not like I plan to do anything…”

She lay back into the water from the edge of the barrel, completely losing the elegance she showed in front of others.

The young girl buried half of her small face into the water, blowing bubbles with a gurgling sound.

…

…Why…..

Was I not the first one to meet her…

…

……

In the stillness of the night…

Andville County.

In the streets and alleys of the large city, phantom-like invisible shadows flitted among the ruins.

The city’s piercing screams gradually ceased.

Death and fear also spread to the depths of the towering fortress.

Inside the castle hall, flames flickered unsteadily, light and shadows twisted and danced on the walls, like resentful spirits with bared claws.

Elegantly dressed elders huddled in terror, children shivered and wept, unable to maintain composure, the cries of despair echoed between columns.

Elusive shadows swirled in the darkness, the young Family Head wielded a long sword, cursing and roaring at unseen horrors.

Yet the roars could not mask despair and fear, as one after another Family Knight vanished without a trace, soon the hall was devoid of any other guard’s silhouette.

The flames trembled in the logs, almost extinguishing.

“Face me!!

You damned creatures without honor!

Duel with me openly and honorably!”

The young Lord looked around at the empty darkness, gripped his blade tightly, and shouted loudly.

He desperately searched for the enemy’s figure, but soon heard a series of low laughter.

The eerie laughter came not from one person, but seemed comprised of countless voices.

“….Openly and honorably….”

The laughter grew louder and more piercing, with voices of men, women, elders, and children…

the sound shook the banners hanging in the hall into a frenzied dance.

“…Honor….”

Hearing a hoarse voice from behind, the Lord of Kantadar swiftly turned around.

Before him, without knowing when, a deep crimson figure had appeared on the once empty throne.

The extraordinarily handsome face was pale as paper, eyes like red stones from the abyss, glinting with elegance and cruelty.

An eerie being clad in blood-colored armor gently cradled a long sword in his right hand, while his left hand gripped the throat of a Kantadar Knight.

The long, slender fingers deeply embedded under the skin slowly released their grip, letting the already withered corpse fall.

The corpse-like Kantadar Knight tumbled down the steps of the Lord’s Throne with a series of thuds.

His helmet with a man-faced beard mask fell from his head, revealing the tortured, emaciated horror beneath, causing the noblewomen and children to scream and weep.

“…Your honor….”

Blood red liquid dissolved on the sharp fingers, merging into his body.

“…Did it ever include the fear and torment suffered by my loved ones and people?”

Feeling the tremor of the living souls resonating, Charlemagne’s mind danced joyously with rage.

Just hearing that terrifying voice, the blood in people’s bodies nearly froze, no one dared to respond, only heavy breaths and suppressed sobs lingered in the hall.

Fingering the sword hilt, he lifted the Demon Sword surrounded by blood, Charlemagne rose from the throne and descended the steps.

His boot steps were silent, but each step seemed to tread heavily upon the hearts of the living.

“Die, monster—!!”

The Lord of Kantadar’s fury overtook fear, stomping the ground and charging forward.

But just after two steps, his vision suddenly dipped, the plated armored body uncontrollably crashing down.

Pain struck the brain a heartbeat late; collapsing weakly, the Lord of Kantadar looked back in shock.

His own legs, in a grotesque running position, still remained behind him.

The upper thighs once connected to the body displayed smooth cuts, blood gushed from the wounds, flowing like overflowing wine from a goblet down the leg armor, the two unsupported legs finally toppled.

“—Aaaaah!!”

His painful cries stirred up another round of delighted laughter around him.

The screaming young lord propped himself up, still trying to resist futilely in despair.

In the blink of an eye, an arm along with the long sword detached from its owner.

A left hand slapped onto the young man’s face, sharp claws piercing the eye socket, impaling the eyeball, Charlemagne dragged the still struggling one-armed body and tossed it back among its horrified family members.

The blood red Baron finally revealed a smile, colder than the chill beneath the night sky.

He would not grant these people a simple death.

Among the columns of the hall, countless eerie slender figures flickered in the shadows.

Smooth faces of girls and women, bereft of the pain and despair of their death throes, their scarlet eyes alight with eager anticipation.

Footsteps approached from the darkness, the firelight gradually revealed the naked beauties and Knights clad in Blood Armor.

The Knights removed their twisted, demonic helmets, their pale faces staring directly at the huddled, trembling living.

Their gaze was as if beholding a grand feast.

“Enjoy…

enjoy the blood of revenge we deserve.”

Charlemagne’s thin lips whispered, exposing sharp fangs.

Women and men, raised from death, arched their mouths, non-human fangs in their gaping mouths grew frantically.

The fire in the brazier extinguished amidst the horrid gusts of feast…

….

Blood covered the face, slowly seeping into the pale skin.

Enjoying a fleeting peace from the countless resentful hatred within the soul, Charlemagne’s form became an incorporeal blood mist, passing through layered ceilings, ascending the fortress spire.

The reformed figure’s armor billowed in the cold wind.

Corpse Demons circled beneath ghostly clouds, Corpse Ghosts wandered streets devoid of any living being.

His blood-red gaze turned west, looking toward the towering Ustato Mountains.

Rage surged from within.

Far from over…..

The chaotic vendetta had not yet extended further, yet the Demon Sword in his hand forced him to turn his sight to the northeast.

“….That’s….that isn’t….” blurred thoughts tried to continue spreading his murderous intent toward the Kantadar Royal Court.

But an unopposable voice imparted a supreme command.

“….That is where the enemy lies….quell your fury there….

the Kantadar people…..

still march toward Rolannar, go tear apart their souls, devour their flesh and blood…”

Endless pain struck, the scarlet in his pupils spread, instantly filling his entire eyes.

The crimson figure burst into a vast, drifting blood mist, sweeping across the sea of corpses toward the distance.