When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

The cloud-like curtain shook violently, as if a tornado was wrapped in white silk gauze, rapidly approaching Horn.

Horn stepped back with his right foot, one hand holding the scabbard and the other the hilt, raising Blood Covering Cloud just as the brass claw extended toward him.

The contact of the brass and iron claw with the scabbard produced a crisp buzzing sound.

But Horn was no longer who he used to be. In the past few months, he had fought countless battles and quickly regained his composure after a moment of panic.

Releasing the scabbard, he directly drew Blood Covering Cloud, while delivering a direct kick to the humanoid creature.

The bald "vampire" reacted swiftly, dodging to the side just in time to narrowly avoid the red glow of Blood Covering Cloud.

Even though it wasn't struck by Blood Covering Cloud, it covered the spot where the red glow hit as it retreated repeatedly.

Tiny blood spots began to emerge from its skin, and the expression on the humanoid creature's face turned uncertainly suspicious as it hesitantly stood there touching the blood spots.

But Horn had no intention of letting it go, dismissing any notions of chivalry with such a fiendish creature: "Gosh damn it, all together now, capture him for me."

"Yah!"

Before Horn could finish speaking, Patrick had already circled out from behind the curtain, wielding a sturdy salted fish, leaping high from the stage.

A flash of light first erupted from his hand, causing the monster to emit a shrill scream, while Patrick slammed the salted fish heavily onto the humanoid creature's forehead.

The humanoid creature was knocked backward, rolling twice before dizzily getting up, though its nose was dislocated in the process.

No time to capture him, Patrick followed up with a sweeping kick, knocking it to the ground, giving it three hard punches to the temple, and pressing its neck with his knee.

Standing not far from Patrick, Horn could clearly hear the sound of the humanoid creature's ribs being crushed.

After such a scuffle, the humanoid creature fainted straight away, and Horn quickly called for it to be tied up, fearing Patrick's blows might kill it.

Honestly, a wizard's fight should look like a wizard's fight.

Great Mage Patrick's battle approach made spells merely a distraction as he casually swung a hammer to smash heads open.

Once the humanoid was secured, Horn stepped forward to observe it closely.

He seemed to be about fifty or sixty years old, with a complexion so pale it appeared blue, pointed ears, and two fangs protruded from beneath his lips, resembling a vampire straight out of a Demon Hunter legend.

Only when he got closer did Horn see that his nose had been cruelly carved out, along with his eyes, revealing wooden replacements painted over, which at first gave the impression he was a puppet.

His tongue and hands were severed at the base, seemingly cut off by others, which explained the need for the brass mechanical claws.

"Is this a vampire?" Horn turned, pointing a finger at the humanoid on the ground, asking Patrick.

Patrick used the salted fish to lift its lip: "These aren't vampire fangs; it's just a blood slave."

"It's not even a vampire?"

"Vampires often aren't much different from ordinary nobles, except for being a bit paler. Their fangs can retract, while a blood slave's cannot.

In the Blood and Flesh Royal Court, blood slaves often serve as tax collectors or stewards, helping the Vampire Lord with tax collection and land management. The public perception of vampires is actually these blood slaves."

Patrick used the salted fish to open its collar, revealing the blood slave brand:

"See, the blood slave brand. Generally, blood slaves don't stray far from their master. There must be another vampire nearby."

Patrick's latter remarks went unheard by Horn, who was too busy fiddling with the blood slave's brass claw, examining it from every angle.

This small claw was unexpectedly well-made, much like the dolls in that mechanical theater.

It was fastened with leather straps and iron bars to the arm, threaded with fine filaments of unknown material, allowing it to grip with muscle contractions.

Horn was incredulous that this eyeless, handless blood slave could have crafted it.

"Has the entire palace been searched? Nothing overlooked?" Placing the brass claw aside on the workbench, Horn asked.

Victor looked up, confirming with the soldiers in the upstairs hallway before replying to Horn: "Your Grace, everything's been checked. No one was found, all dangers have been eliminated... uh, except for that one just now."

"Master Chrispa, can your emblem locate this?" Pointing to the tongueless blood slave on the floor, Horn asked helplessly, "We can't interrogate him if he can't talk."

"I'm not a divination wizard," Patrick said, spinning the salted fish in his hand, "I specialize more in invocation spells, natural history, and alchemy, but honestly, that's it."

"All right," Horn said stepping back into the hall, "then let's check out that spire."

"Your Grace, we can't get the tower's iron door open," Victor followed Horn, adding awkwardly, "Its windows are high up, and we just sent someone to climb it, but they're barred with iron grating. Without proper tools and necessary ropes... Your Grace?"

Halfway through Victor's sentence, he noticed Horn was in a daze, slightly turned as if listening intently to something.

"Your Grace, Your Grace?"

"Do any of you hear anything odd? Like a ticking sound, similar to a clock," Horn asked Jeanne and Victor quietly, offering them an apologetic smile.

"No, nothing," Jeanne replied, completely baffled.

Patrick, however, looked solemn. After pondering for a moment, he said, "Horn boy, based on my experience, I have some hypotheses about your situation, but please don't be frightened."

"I am the Saint's Grandson, I fear nothing, please go on."

"I suspect you're suffering from a nervous disorder," Patrick stated seriously, "Let me take a look."

Horn was speechless at the time, feeling a strong sense of awkwardness and disinterest.

Uninterested in analyzing whether Patrick's words were a joke or not, he responded directly, "Okay, okay, I get it."

Patrick's voice became almost inaudible: "A witch's mana can oppress the soul, causing emotional instability and turbulence. You possess the equivalent of five or six witches' mana..."

Ignoring Patrick's mutterings, Horn addressed the soldiers around him: "You guys send some people to scout the surrounding terrain, then send some out by boat to fetch specialized tools, and also find a good nearby location to set up fortifications.

I suspect the vampire is dormant in the spire, we can't get in for now, so we'll just have to wait for it to come out.

Patrick, head over to the spire, see if it's possible to open the door during the day. Jeanne, go with him, figure out how to melt down the iron grating over the windows or get inside.

Be cautious, if there's any risk of falling, wait for the tools to arrive first."

After assigning the two to study how to launch an assault on the vampire, Horn himself sat down at the workbench, busying himself with the parts on the table.

Despite having had his understanding continually challenged by this world's many peculiarities, Horn still couldn't help being awestruck when he saw these mechanical theaters.

Their intricate structure seemed unlike anything from this era.

Could something like this really be constructed by hand?

Perhaps, but it would likely take a considerable portion of one's life to accomplish, for the sole purpose of entertaining the nobility.

"Tick-tock."

The ticking sound echoed once again in his ear, causing Horn to frown but did not stop him from examining the parts.

Many of these parts were handcrafted, bearing clear marks of grinding and filing.

Horn ran his hand over the rough workbench surface. At one corner, two "L"-shaped iron blocks stood opposite one another, with a chain wrapping around gears, connecting a manual crank and iron blocks.

This seemed to be an elementary cutting lathe, likely producing many parts...

"Tick-tock... tick-tock..."

"Damn it, Victor, come here, are you sure all the dangers have been eliminated?"

"Absolutely, we've gone over the entire palace, except for the blood slave who was too enigmatic, everything else has been checked."

"Fine, call some soldiers, follow me."

Standing up, Horn summoned several soldiers to escort, heading toward the source of the sound.

"I need to see what's truly going on."