DragonKnov

  Chapter 40: Shadow Step (2/2)?Then, he recalled the arrogant person's—this so-called Saint's...?Shadow Step, huh? That fits the name, but...?In the next instant, something deep within him surged. Both legs tensed before he sprang forward, powerful thighs bunching beneath the fabric of his trousers, unching from the ground in his crouched, animalistic stance. ?BANG!?The dirt beneath his feet cratered from the force of his takeoff. Darkness began to envelop his body and vision, not obscuring his sight but sharpening it, the world transforming into shades of midnight blue and blood red as his form seemed to dissolve at the edges, becoming one with the shadows themselves.?SWOOSH! ?Lucien arrived next, materializing from the churning darkness like a nightmare taking physical form. ?The sharp, acrid smell of gunpowder hung thick in the air, stinging his nostrils and coating his tongue with its metallic bite. ?A cold wind whipped through his coat, making the dark fabric snap and billow like the wings of some great bat. ?But...?Appearing mid-air above one of the gunners—who was still aiming at the spot where Lucien had just killed three knights, the man's fingers white-knuckled against the trigger—Lucien extended both hands, his long, curved nails gleaming like obsidian daggers in the eerie blue light of the camp.?SPLASH!?Blood spurted in a high-pressure arc from the grazed skin as Lucien's cws collided with the gunner's neck, the initial contact producing a sound like a knife sliding into ripe fruit. ?The man's eyes widened in primal terror, pupils diting as he comprehended his fate in that fraction of a second. ?Once Lucien gripped the gunner's head, fingers spyed across the man's temples and jawline, he felt the warmth of human skin against his cold, marble-pale hands and heard the frantic, rabbit-fast heartbeat pounding in his own ears. ?Slowly, with monstrous strength that strained the seams of his gloves, Lucien began to tilt and pull upward, his palms gripping the entire head. ?Blood spttered onto his hands with rhythmic pulses, painting his pale skin crimson, the iron scent growing stronger and more intoxicating with each beat of the dying man's heart.?And then—?PLUCK! ?The sound was obscenely wet, a tearing of sinew and cartige that echoed across the suddenly silent camp. ?Not even a scream, not even a struggle; Lucien wrenched the entire head from the gunner's body with such terrible efficiency that the man's final expression remained one of shock, never transitioning to pain. ?The headless corpse swayed for a heartbeat before crumpling to the ground, a fountain of scarlet pumping from the ragged stump of neck, soaking into the thirsty earth below.?"Abomination! By the Light of Seraphiel, protect us!" The cry rang out, voice cracking with visceral horror. ?A priestess clutched her holy symbol so tightly that her knuckles bnched white, the metal edge cutting into her palm and drawing blood that mingled with her sweat.?The sickening snap and pluck immediately drew the attention of the other knights, snapping them out of their stunned gazes. ?Helmets turned in unison toward the fresh carnage, eyes wide within their visors, some hands trembling so violently that their weapons rattled against their armor.?"Stand firm, men of the faith! Dragoon, aim true—by the grace of the Divine, destroy this heretic!" the Saint shouted, his voice regaining its authoritative edge. ?He brandished his staff—an ornate rod of gleaming silver topped with a crystal that pulsed with inner light—and began to chant, the words carrying a weight that seemed to press against Lucien's skin like an invisible, burning hand.?As the Saint spoke, fear and confusion melted away from the Holy Knights as if by sorcery. ?Their postures straightened, trembling ceased, and resolve hardened in their eyes. One by one, they began their own chants, voices overpping in an eerie harmony that seemed to thicken the very air.?"Light be my shield—let no evil pass this line!"?With each chant, shimmering white barriers formed in front of their white armor, translucent walls of energy that hummed with unnatural vibration and cast ghostly illumination across the blood-spattered ground. ?Row upon row of these barriers created another cage that surrounded Lucien on all sides, each one pulsing with holy energy that made the air taste of ozone and storm clouds.?Try to trap me again??Lucien, witnessing this, his red eyes narrowing with calcution, was only confused for a brief moment. ?His lips pulled back in a silent snarl, revealing fangs that seemed to elongate with his rising anger.?Suddenly, his ears twitched—a predator sensing danger—and the fine hairs on the back of his neck rose. ?A sense of dread, overwhelmed his senses, sliding down his spine like ice water. He turned immediately toward the source.?There, the Saint was surrounded by a mass of faint white light, a luminous cocoon that pulsed with rhythmic intensity, each throb growing brighter than the st. ?His lips moved in rapid succession, sylbles tumbling forth in an ancient tongue while his hands traced complex patterns in the air, leaving behind ghostly trails of divine energy. ?He was preparing to cast something powerful—something lethal—the very air around him crackling with potential, heavy with the scent of lightning-struck stone and burning incense.?No, I'll be finished if I let this happen!?Without hesitation, Lucien's feet moved; his knees bent as he propelled himself forward, leather boots carving twin furrows in the hard-packed earth. ?"GRRR!" Something primeval rumbled inside him—a growl that originated not from his throat but from somewhere deeper, older, a pce where instinct ruled over thought. ?In the next moment, darkness once again enveloped his entire body, starting at his fingertips and racing across his form like spilled ink, the transformation accompanied by a sound like rustling wings and distant whispers.?"Let divine grace descend—let—" Yet before the Saint could finish chanting, his mouth puckered into a frown, his concentration fracturing as his senses registered the incoming darkness. ?The glowing white light around him slowly dissipated like morning mist before the sun, particles of luminescence scattering and fading, revealing a towering vampire who seemed to materialize from the shadows themselves. ?Lucien lunged toward him, coat billowing behind him like the wings of a fallen angel, fangs fully extended and gleaming wetly in the moonlight.?"Bind him," the Saint said, his voice unnervingly calm, his lips curling into a slow smile that never reached his eyes. ?A cold gleam of calcution shimmered there instead, the look of a chess master watching a piece move exactly where pnned. ?BANG!?A moment ter, the sound of something firing—a mechanical click followed by a pneumatic hiss—reached Lucien's twitching ears, the noise seeming amplified through his heightened senses. ?The Saint's anticipation was almost tangible—Lucien could smell it, a sour-sweet scent of adrenaline and satisfaction that clung to the man's skin and breath. Watching the smile and smirk on the Saint's face, Lucien's brows furrowed and his mouth fell open, fangs retracting slightly in his confusion.?SWOOSH! ?Lucien slowly turned his neck, the movement unnaturally fluid, and saw it—his slit pupils, under his heightened perception, registered a massive shadow cast in the moonlight, its edges rippling as it descended through the night air. ?A huge net, made entirely of silver, each link polished to a mirror shine that reflected fractured moonlight like scattered stars, descended from above, aiming to engulf his entire body. ?Not far from the net was a thick cord, taut with tension, connected to a gunner's weapon atop a watchtower where a figure hunched over the mechanism, their silhouette stark against the night sky.?A trap?!?His mind raced, pulse pounding in pce of his heart, the sensation alien yet familiar. Immediately, Lucien—mid-lunge and fighting gravity, suspended in that vulnerable moment between unch and nding—gritted his teeth, his muscles twitching with effort, sinews straining visibly beneath his marble-pale skin. ?The blood in his veins, which had just begun to calm after his Shadow Step, now surged again with renewed panic, burning through him like liquid fire. ?Weakness and soreness spread through his body in an advancing wave, radiating outward from his core like poison.?But despite all of that, Lucien twisted his waist and wrist with serpentine grace, muscles rippling beneath his coat as he retracted his hands—fingers already curved for the killing blow—from the intended ssh at the Saint's face. ?Instead, he withdrew, moving steadily backward as if swimming against an invisible current. The fading darkness that had brought him here now crept from his feet upward like living ink, tendrils of shadow wrapping around his ankles and spiraling up his legs. ?Under his widening eyes, crimson irises diting with a mixture of surprise and determination, his entire vision went bck—not the bck of blindness, but a velvety, encompassing darkness that seemed to breathe and pulse around him, carrying with it whispers from nowhere and everywhere.