Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks-Chapter 529 - 308: Closer to Death

"Mr. Kurs, Lord was attacked, right?"

Hans, who hurried over, had a hint of "why didn’t you notify me" frustration in his tone. Although his combat strength wasn’t as good as Venezia’s, it wasn’t too far behind.

The fact that Venezia could go into battle proved he was up to the task as well.

"You have a more important mission. Stay here, stabilize the morale. The castle is already like a boiling kettle on a furnace; the supplies stored here cannot be lost at any cost."

At Feilaimai Castle, besides Losa’s personal guards, there were many non-combat personnel, including secretaries who checked food supplies, copyists, and civilian transporters.

Seeing abnormalities at the tower, how could these people remain calm?

Moreover, even the battle-hardened warriors desperately wanted to know what had happened.

As soon as many people saw Kurs’s figure, they swarmed toward him and asked compliantly, "Lord Kurs, what was that just now? Did Marquis use the Holy Spear?"

"Was the Marquis attacked? What should we do, Lord Kurs?"

"As the Marquis’s Imperial Guard, we can’t just stand here and wait."

Kurs didn’t speak, just patted Hans on the shoulder and drifted away as people were about to surround him.

Hans showed a slightly helpless smile, why is it always me doing this kind of thing?

"Everyone, do not panic. Indeed, heretic demons attacked the Marquis, but do you think a Holy Spear Guardian like the Marquis would be in danger?"

His tone was firm, though his heart was undeniably anxious.

This time, the enemy must be extraordinary; otherwise, it wouldn’t warrant Miss Jeanne, Miss Prajna, Miss Chelina, and Venezia to act together.

...

"Completely clueless, unable to detect any peculiar smell."

At this moment, Kurs was carrying Furinjira, transforming into ghostly shadows and constantly jumping among the castle’s shadows. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

He did not answer Furinjira’s self-talk. When it came to Blood Magic, as a "Blood Shadow Demon," he was indeed no match for Furinjira, a Princess of the Blood Royal Court with legitimate heritage.

He didn’t want his answer to mislead Furinjira’s own thoughts.

"This apparently defies common sense. Normally, the magic power contained in the Blood Magic Source is abundant enough; maintaining an isolated barrier consumes an astonishing amount. "

At the very least, the "Magic Source" she had accumulated during this period was completely insufficient to support Blood Magic of this intensity.

"But if a Magic Source with immensely rich magic power existed, based on my perception of Blood Magic Power, it’s impossible not to sense anything. Even my father’s secret reserve source couldn’t escape my perception. "

"So, the problem should lie with these native Vampires—different from our Royal Court Blood Race..."

"Kurs, put me down. Without figuring this out, even if the Magic Source is right in front of us, we won’t be able to detect it."

Kurs stopped, calmly looking at Furinjira without urging or encouraging her. He knew well that the lady was more anxious than anyone else; urging was meaningless.

Furinjira solemnly spoke to herself, "What’s the biggest difference between us and native vampires? It’s that we are living while they are like resurrected living corpses—that must be what’s interfering with our perception."

"So..."

"I have to harness the power of death."

She suddenly raised her head, the black sheen spreading rapidly in her blood-red pupils, "Kurs, next, no matter what orders I give, you must execute them unconditionally—I assure you, there will be danger, but not as severe as you imagine."

Kurs’s expression became grim, and he whispered, "Have you considered it carefully? Even if we can’t find the Magic Source, with Lady Jeanne, Miss Prajna, and Miss Chelina around, it’s likely the Lord will still overcome the crisis."

Furinjira nodded heavily, "Of course, Kurs, not just for the Lord—I also need this native Vampire’s Magic Source! "

"Kurs, cast Corpse Manipulation magic on me!"

Kurs’s lips trembled slightly, and after a moment, he still responded quietly, "As you wish, Miss."

...

Under the blood-red dome.

Raindrops densely splattered on the giant black shield Losa held above his head.

The Ghost Face Shield showed a hopeless expression, it knew long ago nothing good would come from Prajna calling it out; after all, shields in most cases are meant to be beaten.

Moreover, it can withstand such an attack.

The hard part is what comes next.

Even the Ghost Face Shield knew these blood-colored raindrops were merely the prelude to the enemy’s ensuing frenzy.

The smell of blood in the air had become more intense, with every breath causing dizziness and nausea—a feeling akin to fainting.

Venezia’s giant werewolf fur was beaten into strands by the blood rain, and his beast-like golden eyes suppressed rage repeatedly until it inevitably exploded.

A prolonged howl was heard, his werewolf form, even burlier than Hans’s, expanded further.

Following that, the massive werewolf chose the approach that matched his fighting style best, leaping into that blood-red dome resembling some giant creature’s organ.

"Indeed, grandfather’s kind can’t be relied upon to calmly consider problems,"

Chelina sighed helplessly; the spilled blood drops were blown away before touching her.

She wasn’t worried about Venezia’s life. As a Berserker, Venezia was like the indomitable bronze Goliath; closer to death, more powerful—truly exemplifying what it means to be farther from death the nearer one is to it.

At this moment.

The blood had seeped over the soles.

The heavy iron boots stomped in the blood, Losa felt every step was sticky, as if glued to the ground.

At this moment.

A blood-red hand emerged from beneath the water, reaching for Losa’s ankle, only to be stomped and broken by Prajna.

The splashing blood drops suspended in mid-air quickly transformed into a hideous blood shadow, lunging at Losa.

Flames rose, golden holy light enveloped the Cross Sword, slicing the blood shadow apart.

Now, Losa was no longer what he used to be. The Holy Spear’s previous impact hadn’t been too severe for him, he had more than enough strength to cast another Throwing Spear.

Losa looked back at Jeanne, seeing her shake her head, he halted his counterattack.

When it comes to battle instincts, his combat experience doesn’t compare to Jeanne, the seasoned "demon hunter."