Chapter 504: Kingslayer
Cleric Cristiano seized the moment Ferdinand I staggered. His greatsword swept in an arc, cleaving toward the right leg of the deformed torso.
Ferdinand I was forced to block downward with the broken sword in his left hand. Golden holy light exploded upon collision, and his left knee nearly buckled to the ground.
The cleric gave him no chance to breathe. The white-armored body stepped forward to close the distance again. He flipped the greatsword in his hand, slashing at the opponent's abdomen from another angle.
Ferdinand I's deformed body displayed a twisted agility in that moment. His torso bent backward unnaturally, barely evading the horizontal slash.
But Cleric Cristiano's free hand had already pulled two silver-thermite bombs from his belt. Using a protrusion on his armor to pull the pins, he hurled them directly at the opponent's chest.
Ferdinand I swung his overly long sword arm, attempting to bat the two bombs away.
But his movements were much slower than before. He barely managed to swat the first one away with the flat of his Dark Sword, but the second one stuck directly to his right ribs.
"Boom!"
The silver-thermite detonated on Ferdinand I's body. The white-hot flames instantly vaporized the already half-carbonized fleshy tissues in that area, exposing the twisted, deformed skeleton beneath.
"Argh—!!!"
An inhuman scream squeezed out of the deformed giant's throat.
Meanwhile, Cleric Cristiano pulled out his last three silver-thermite bombs, pulling all the fuses at once.
"This distance should be enough..."
The cleric hurled the bombs at different parts of Ferdinand I's massive body. Three consecutive explosions rang out, and Ferdinand I's entire deformed body was engulfed in white-hot firelight.
"No—!! Why—!!"
However, the voice emerging from the flames gradually lost its tone of pure agony, morphing instead into a roar laced with questioning.
Ferdinand I staggered out of the flames. At least more than half of his body had been scorched black. The flesh in those areas constantly sloughed off, and while his fleshy tissues desperately tried to repair the damage, the effort was largely futile under the influence of the silver.
"Why... why you do this to me..."
On the twisted face of the Romanian King, his scarlet pupils had begun to lose focus, but the remaining anger and incomprehension within them were still clearly visible.
"Saxon Empire... Holy See... why did you invade my country? Why did you force me to this point?!"
Ferdinand I's two overly long, deformed arms jerked upward. The Dark Sword in his right hand and the flesh-glued broken sword in his left swung simultaneously.
Although his enlarged body greatly reduced his agility, the increased wingspan made his attack range absurdly wide.
The arcs drawn by the two longswords in the air covered the entire fan-shaped area in front of him. The howling sword wind, carrying residual blood aura, swept away all nearby debris and tissue fragments.
Morin was forced to retreat two steps, evading the area swept by the Dark Sword.
He didn't verbally answer Ferdinand I's questioning. He merely stared silently at the brief pause that appeared after the opponent swung his swords. Then, cutting in from a diagonal angle, he slashed the 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】 toward the opponent's right leg.
The golden sword light grazed just below Ferdinand I's knee, leaving a deep, burning wound.
Ferdinand I cried out in pain and counterattacked with a swing of his arm. The broken sword swept horizontally toward Morin, who had already jumped out of range, re-leveling the 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】 before him, waiting for the next opportunity to strike.
On the other side, however, after cleaving a tentacle extending from Ferdinand I's back, Cleric Cristiano actually responded to him.
"Your Majesty... or rather, former King..."
The voice from beneath the hound-faced helmet remained as gruff as ever.
"The power of the 'Blood River' you wield is already threatening the entire human world. Converting the residents of a city into vampires... this is a taboo among taboos... If not for this reason, the Vatican would not easily intervene in a secular war."
This answer was clearly not what Ferdinand I wanted to hear.
The remaining dark gold patterns in his pupils flared up. Driven by some furious emotion, his deformed body straightened up once more.
Raising both longswords high with his overly long arms, he charged at Cleric Cristiano in a nearly suicidal posture.
"Don't try to fool me with those high-sounding excuses!!"
He completely abandoned defense, hacking alternately with his two longswords in the air.
Although his movements were far slower than before, the reach advantage of that four-meter-tall deformed body was immense. The sweeping range of the two longswords covered a radius of nearly five meters in front of him.
Cleric Cristiano was forced to retreat temporarily, using his greatsword to block the Dark Sword smashing toward him, forced back several steps.
"Don't point fingers at me from your moral high ground! This world was never black and white!"
Ferdinand I roared as he attacked madly.
"The Holy See... you are not clean either! Back then, when Vlad III held off the Ottomans on the front lines for you... what did you do?! You betrayed him!"
The Dark Sword and the broken sword drew a massive cross in the air, forcing the cleric to retreat once more.
Seizing the moment when Ferdinand I focused all his attention on the cleric in front of him, Morin approached rapidly from the rear flank.
Then, when still a short distance away, Morin suddenly accelerated. The Holy Sword slashed upward from a low angle, aiming straight for Ferdinand I's exposed left waist.
The deformed body reacted at the last moment. Ferdinand I's left arm blocked downward from behind his back, the broken sword barely intercepting the Holy Sword's upward slash.
"Clang!"
The golden holy light still spread from the point of contact to his arm, burning a new wound upon it.
Ferdinand I howled in pain and forced Morin back, but the cleric had already returned from the front, his greatsword aiming straight for his face.
The three engaged in a new round of melee in the center of the ruins.
To Morin, the combat scene unfolding before him was somewhat surreal.
While crossing swords with Ferdinand I, Cleric Cristiano was simultaneously engaging in some sort of... "trash-talking battle" with him.
For every sword strike the cleric made, he retorted with a sentence; for every block Ferdinand I made, he cursed back.
It was exactly like the classic "trash-talking" phase during the final battle between the villain and the protagonist in a shōnen manga.
The only difference was that right now, Morin was the one standing on the sidelines launching sneak attacks.
But he accepted this role without hesitation. Seizing the moment Ferdinand I leaned back under the pressure of the cleric's greatsword, Morin thrust his sword from the right.
The tip of the 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】 slashed a half-meter-long wound on the outside of Ferdinand I's right arm. The golden burning effect immediately spread across the wound.
Ferdinand I let out a low growl, sweeping the Dark Sword in his right hand horizontally toward Morin.
Morin was well prepared. He had already begun retreating the moment he struck. The tip of the Dark Sword swept past his nose, carrying a gust of bloody wind.
This vampire monarch before him indeed didn't rely entirely on vision to locate enemies. That perception of surrounding threats meant Morin had to be extra careful every time he struck from the rear flank.
Coupled with the overly long reach from his deformity, the attack windows left for Morin were not generous.
However, every hit from the 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】 left unhealable burns on Ferdinand I.
Those golden scorch marks spread across the ashen flesh, continuously eroding what little life force he had left.
And throughout every minute this chaotic battle continued, Morin noticed the residual dark red dome over Bucharest growing increasingly thin.
In some areas, large patches of complete transparency had even appeared. Sunlight began spilling down through those holes, illuminating the devastated ruins.
A spent arrow...
Ferdinand I also sensed the waning of his power. His attacks grew more frenzied and increasingly reckless.
But his stamina and life force were decaying at a visible rate.
Morin approached from behind once more. This time, his target was Ferdinand I's waist, where a massive gap had previously been blasted by a silver-thermite bomb.
The 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】 sliced precisely into that gap. This strike cut nearly halfway through the body. Golden flames erupted from the wound, scattering copious amounts of minced meat and tissue fragments.
Ferdinand I's body shuddered violently, and then he did something Morin didn't anticipate.
He abandoned his attack on the cleric, turned around, and charged at Morin with all his might.
"Friedrich Morin!!"
Ferdinand I shouted his full name. The twisted voice echoed over the ruins, and a complex expression appeared on that twisted face.
"An ignorant playboy... womanizing at Dresden banquets, you absolutely shameless!"
While delivering his "sharp critique," Ferdinand I caught up. The Dark Sword cleaved down from overhead with greater force than when he attacked the cleric moments ago.
Morin sidestepped, deflecting the attack with the flat of his blade. Simultaneously, he slid the Holy Sword up the opponent's blade, aiming to sever his fingers.
Ferdinand I retracted his hand quickly enough to dodge this insidious counterattack, then roared again: "After acquiring supernatural power... you immediately use it to attack other countries? Burning, killing, and looting?"
His voice carried an emotion Morin found hard to comprehend. Meanwhile, Cleric Cristiano had maneuvered behind Ferdinand I, charging his greatsword and cleaving toward his back.
Though Ferdinand I's perception wasn't as sharp as before, he successfully twisted his body to avoid a fatal hit from the cleric's strike from behind, though a large chunk of tissue was sheared off his left shoulder.
He jumped back a distance, his two overly long arms hanging by his sides, standing there with his swords.
Blood still flowed from the wounds all over his body, but his attention seemed entirely unconcerned with his injuries, focusing solely on Morin as he questioned again: "After you acquired this power that transcends mortals, this is what you use it for?"
Morin also took advantage of the standoff to pause and catch his breath, swapping the Holy Sword to his other hand.
"Let me be clear... I don't accept the charge of 'burning, killing, and looting'."
Morin finally spoke. He originally couldn't be bothered to entertain the other party's "trash talk," but he absolutely could not accept the stigma of "burning, killing, and looting."
He had already disciplined his troops as strictly as possible, eradicating most of the bad habits common in armies of this era. Now you hit me with "my men are burning, killing, and looting"... Have all my previous efforts been for nothing?
"At the very least, the troops under my command treat the local Romanian civilians with mutual respect. We've paid every penny owed and observed every law of war that should be observed."
"You, on the other hand..."
Morin jerked his chin toward the swarms of Blood Servants behind the opponent, still being hacked down by the Thunder Warriors.
"After acquiring power, you sacrificed your own citizens, turning them into these things."
Ferdinand I was silent for two seconds, then spoke: "I am using this power to secure living space for my kin."
"Your kin?"
Morin frowned, then realization dawned on him: "Oh~ It seems you've completely accepted your identity as a vampire, haven't you? Those Bucharest civilians you converted clearly don't count as 'compatriots' in your heart, but rather your 'blood bags', right?"
As Morin finished his sentence, he exchanged a glance with Cleric Cristiano. The two pressed toward Ferdinand I simultaneously from the left and right.
The cleric's greatsword swept horizontally from the right; Morin's Holy Sword slashed upward from the left.
Ferdinand I threw his arms out, instantly blocking the attacks from both directions. Then, this deformed monster suddenly began to laugh.
The laughter emanated from deep within his throat, sounding incredibly distorted and grating.
"Human compatriots..."
He parried another cleave from the cleric, then turned to look at Morin.
"Do you and he... still have the right to call yourselves human?"
Morin: "..."
"Don't joke around, Morin."
Ferdinand I's broken sword blocked Morin's thrust from the side, the two weapons deadlocked in the air.
"Is the blood flowing in your veins still normal human blood? Your strength, your speed, the marks of modification on your body... I can see it all."
He turned to the cleric.
"And you... Cleric Cristiano. That 'holy power' attached to you... essentially, what difference is there from the 'Blood River' within me?"
Morin didn't reply, but he noticed Ferdinand I's movements becoming increasingly exaggerated, his blocking and attacking postures beginning to lose their form.
It wasn't just his strength failing; his consciousness was also faltering.
Morin gathered his strength once more, the framework of a fifth-circle spell taking shape in his mind.
Fifth-circle spell, 【Steel Wind Strike】.
The spell slot refreshed by the "Paradise No. 3" potion was expended again. The 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】 drew a perfect arc in his hand, the golden halo materializing before him.
Morin vanished from directly in front of Ferdinand I, appearing less than half a step to his right. The Holy Sword slashed toward the base of his right arm.
Ferdinand I's reaction was a beat slower than the first time he faced 【Steel Wind Strike】. The angle of his block with the Dark Sword was significantly off. Though he barely managed to catch it, his entire right arm was jolted outward.
Immediately following, Morin's figure flickered continuously. Ferdinand I's responses grew increasingly frantic compared to before. By the fourth strike, he could only barely twist his body to avoid vital areas.
The 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】 left consecutive, unrecoverable deep wounds on his chest, shoulders, and thighs. Golden burns spread outward from every wound, swallowing the ashen flesh inch by inch.
"Enough..."
Ferdinand I's voice suddenly became very calm. The mad fury faded from his face, replaced by a strange serenity.
"What the Holy See and the world fear... has always been power itself. You fear that we, having acquired supernatural qualities, will replace the human race."
Ferdinand I's voice became entirely calm, even carrying a hint of composure.
"When I obtained the legacy of Vlad III, you immediately couldn't sit still... What you fear isn't me, but this power falling into hands you cannot control."
His scarlet pupils turned to Morin, who was charging his fifth strike.
"And you... Friedrich Morin... do you think you will be an exception?"
"Have you ever thought... about how Albert II, your 'good Emperor'... will deal with a continuously growing 'monster' like you in the future?"
As the opponent spoke, Morin's fifth strike slashed from his right side. The golden flames of the 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】 reached their absolute peak in this blow.
Ferdinand I still held the Dark Sword in his right hand, but he didn't raise it to block. He simply stood there.
The Holy Sword severed his right wrist. The hand holding the sword, along with half the forearm, was sliced off.
The Dark Sword tumbled twice in the air and stabbed into the rubble with a "Clang!".
Having lost both arms, Ferdinand I actually began to laugh.
"I know my cousin very well... He appears enlightened, benevolent... but his suspicion of those around him and his desire to control power are no less than any emperor."
"Otherwise, why would I, a distant royal relative posing absolutely no threat to him, be pushed onto the throne of the King of Romania... only to continue being manipulated by him as a pawn?"
In Ferdinand I's pupils, the scarlet hue was fading, and the dark gold patterns were fracturing.
"I'm becoming more and more curious..."
The dying vampire king raised his head, looking at Morin.
"When that day comes, when you are so powerful that everyone fears you... Friedrich Morin, what kind of fate will you face?"
Then he opened his left hand. Queen Marie's broken sword slipped from his palm, striking the rubble with a crisp clatter.
"Let me 'help' you one last time..."
Ferdinand I spread his remaining stump of an arm and charged straight at Morin.
His guard wide open, completely defenseless. Chest, heart... all his vitals were exposed, just short of painting a bullseye on himself.
Morin's body reacted instinctively at this moment. This posture allowed him to make a split-second judgment—regardless of what the opponent intended, he could not pass up this opportunity.
The Holy Sword thrust forward. Golden flames extended along the blade, drawing a long trail of light in the air.
The very moment Ferdinand I's twisted, massive body rushed before him, Morin drove the Holy Sword into his chest cavity...
More accurately, Ferdinand I voluntarily threw his chest onto the 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】.
The Holy Sword pierced through where his heart should be. Golden holy light erupted from the wound in all directions.
Ferdinand I looked down at the golden blade piercing his chest. On that twisted face, an expression appeared that Morin had never seen on any enemy's face.
Relief. The corners of his mouth even turned up slightly...
"I'm very curious... when the day comes, and you stand where I am now... what will you do?"
Ferdinand I's voice had become extremely weak.
"Kingslayer Morin..."
Morin didn't speak. He merely tightened his grip on the hilt of the 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】.
The distance between him and Ferdinand I was only an arm's length. The golden flames of the Holy Sword were spreading outward from within the opponent's chest cavity. Carbonizing cracks spread rapidly across the deformed body.
Immediately following, Ferdinand I threw his head back and let out a final, furious roar from his collapsing body.
"I... Ferdinand I, Ruler of the Kingdom of Romania! I curse you for all eternity... 'Kingslayer' Friedrich Morin!!!"
This roar transformed into a tangible shockwave, radiating outward from Ferdinand I's body in all directions. It pierced the gradually dissipating blood-red curtain, extending beyond the ruins and echoing throughout the entire city of Bucharest.
The Saxon soldiers pursuing the vampires heard it. Lieutenant General Marwitz and Kleist in the command post outside the city heard it too.
Everyone stopped what they were doing in that instant, because the obsession contained in that roar was too intense.
The echoes of the roar had not yet faded, but Ferdinand I's face was no longer twisted.
He closed his eyes and uttered a final whisper.
"Marie... I'm coming..."
Then, the holy light of the 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】 completed its final combustion within Ferdinand I.
The massive deformed body began to carbonize from the heart. The ash spread from the inside out. The four-meter-tall body turned into a gray statue in just a few seconds.
Then it shattered completely. Copious amounts of ash were swept up by the wind, mingling with the dust filling the sky before vanishing entirely.
Only the two masterless longswords remained on the ground, along with scattered rubble and fleshy tissues that had already begun to dry up and flake off.
Above Bucharest, the residual blood-red curtain completely shattered.
The dark red canopy peeled away piece by piece like shredded tulle. Sunlight poured down through countless fissures.
The very moment Ferdinand I turned to ash, a chain reaction occurred throughout Bucharest. The vampire creatures, having lost the core support of the "Blood River," began to collapse on a massive scale.
The Blood Servants currently engaging the Saxon infantry on the perimeter were the first to be affected. Their movements became sluggish and clumsy. Then, one by one, they collapsed to the ground, their bodies rapidly shriveling and carbonizing.
The higher-tier Blood Thralls fared slightly better, but also exhibited a sharp drop in combat effectiveness. Some turned and fled immediately; others lost the ability to move after letting out agonizing howls.
The battlefield, brutal just moments ago, quieted down in a mere dozen seconds.
The Thunder Warriors and Paladins halted after chopping down the last few struggling Blood Thralls.
Fallen corpses and carbonizing fleshy tissues were everywhere. The instruction unit soldiers on the defense line, after confirming no new enemies were surging forward, slumped directly onto the ground while gasping for air.
"Kingslayer..."
Morin stood in place, unable to help but mutter softly, "Oh no, this nickname doesn't sound very good..."