Looking at all the carnage around him, the third simply laughed. "How the hell do you have this sort of godly blood manipulation skills when you are barely a couple of decades old?" He simply stood amidst the bloodbath, not giving a fuck about any of his teammates dying.
Many blood lances shot forward, aiming at him as well, but somehow his form shimmered and every one of them passed right through him.
Damon frowned. He couldn’t quite grasp the technique the guy was using, but for now, he simply continued with the massacre.
More and more black-robed men appeared, crawling out of shadows, rising from dunes, slipping in from every which corner, but they were all greeted by one lance or the other. Damon was already aiming at them.
His head barely moved. His expression didn’t change. But each new assassin who dared set foot in the circle around him had a lance materialize directly above their skull, descending with the promise of a merciless death.
One assassin screamed, "How is he tracking us? Is our stealth skill a fucking joke?" His words cut off as a lance punched through his sternum and pinned him to the ground like an insect.
Another tried to leap toward Kaelthorn, but before he could even touch him, a dozen lances hit him at once, turning him into a cloud of red mist.
A third froze, trembling violently as he felt the tip of a lance pressing against the back of his neck before he even fully stepped out of the shadow. The lance obliterated him.
All the while, Damon’s gaze remained fixed forward, utterly calm, utterly cold, the storm of death swirling around him as if it were nothing more than an extension of his breath.
And still... more assassins kept coming.
Thirty. Forty. Fifty.
The dunes shook with the sheer number of bodies emerging from the darkness. Kaelthorn swallowed hard. Green Eyes stumbled back, eyes wide with horror. "These aren’t normal assassins... every single one of them is an elite," Kaelthorn whispered in dread.
He had heard of Umbra’s hand before, but only now was he seeing their terrifying prowess in person. However, his Lord seemed to be the truly terrifying one here.
But Kaelthorn did not stand simply. He tried his best to aim for one assassin after another, pulling his weight as much as he could while also protecting the two elven women. He tacitly understood that this was his main duty, and he was prepared to die for it.
The elven slave girl, on the other hand, looked completely mortified. Every time she stepped out with Damon, she was always surrounded by death and destruction.
At this point, she simply wanted to go back to the Blood Hall filled to the brim with vampires. All those vampires put together were not as scary as this one in front of her.
Lirae, on the other hand, was not as weak and helpless. She did not simply stand on the sidelines and watch. Her eyes became fully red, and a murderous aura surrounded her. She could clearly see what was happening.


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