Chapter Seventy-Three: Lucy’s Protection Over Marcus

With a single grasp, I yanked the giant bat straight down from a height of ten meters, slamming it hard into the ground and leaving a large crater. Yet it did not die. It struggled, trying desperately to take flight again, but alas, its wings were broken.

Seeing this, the other giant bat circling overhead gathered the elemental energy of nature in its clawed hands and swept it fiercely toward me. In truth, there were two giant bats on the ground that were still alive. The one I had knocked down earlier was severely injured, but retained some strength.

Judging by its aura, the bat in the air emitted a presence almost identical to Louis, the third son of Macas. Thus, I was certain that the airborne bat was Louis.

On the ground, the silver-haired werewolf had recovered some of his power. The severely wounded giant bat was now in a desperate situation, and the other, lightly injured bat was also in peril.

The werewolf had already reached the extreme of his kind—the pinnacle of the Blood Emperor. Though the silver-haired werewolf's powers were depleted, with his newly regained strength, it was effortless for him to eliminate the two grand duke-level vampire bats on the ground.

The battle had changed dramatically with the uncle's arrival. I faced Louis in the sky, the uncle and Macas were locked in fierce combat, and the silver-haired werewolf confronted the two wounded bats on the ground. The outcome seemed all but decided.

The silver-haired werewolf exploited his advantage. Although he could fly, he was far more agile on land, for wolves have always been the monarchs of the earth. His strength was naturally greater on the ground than in the air.

The wounded vampires were not so lucky. Ground combat was never their forte, and with their wings broken and bodies battered, they were now only awaiting death. With Louis preoccupied by me, the two vampire kin below had lost their strongest support. Faced with the silver-haired werewolf's relentless advance, they could only retreat, limping and relying on instinct.

The silver-haired werewolf's eyes burned with fury, seemingly intent on avenging the humiliation he had just suffered. His wolf claws, five centimeters long, glimmered faintly under the bright crescent moon. The two giant bats, sensing their doom, launched a desperate, final struggle.

One vampire bat bared its savage jaws and charged at the silver-haired werewolf, its claws as sharp as steel, slashing toward his waist. The other, hindered by its wounded leg, stood at a distance, summoning gales and launching attacks imbued with dark elemental power.

This was a desolate wilderness, marked only by a single altar-like structure. Not a soul lived within a hundred miles, so no matter what transpired here, no one would ever know.

The silver-haired werewolf showcased the unique traits of his kind—speed. He deftly dodged the distant energy attacks, all the while engaging in close combat with the vampire bat.

The elemental wind snapped trees as thick as bowls, tore up grassy earth, and even caused minor damage to the altar. Within the tempest, the two figures grappled at close quarters, flashes of light flickering within the wind—though the vampire bat was clearly on the receiving end.

After about five minutes, the bat engaged in close combat had its wings brutally torn off by the silver-haired werewolf, leaving two deep, bloody grooves. Then, with lightning speed, the werewolf charged the bat controlling the wind, delivering a punch that pierced its body. Both giant bats on the ground were vanquished.

Meanwhile, Louis and I continued our aerial standoff. Transformed into his full form, Louis had reached the Blood Emperor realm, but could no longer speak—his mouth emitted only mournful whimpers, as if he were crying.

I paid him no heed, simply uttering, "Die!" With a beat of my wings, I surged forward, fists moving at the speed of light.

Were an ordinary person to witness this scene, they would see two streaks of light trailing long beams across the sky, weaving back and forth.

No weapons were involved; both sides relied solely on their bodies. Each blow brought a rush of satisfaction as fists collided with flesh.

The battle now resembled a brawl between high school students—except every move was enhanced with supernatural power. Each punch landed with the force of more than a thousand pounds, sending the opponent flying five or six meters.

Seizing another opening, I struck Louis's chest with a punch tinged with golden energy, sending him hurtling from a hundred meters in the air. Following up with a kick to his abdomen, I drove him down toward the earth.

This fight called to mind those ancient warriors of the primordial age, dueling in the most savage manner imaginable.

At the same time, the duel between the uncle and Macas drew near its end. Both appeared heavily depleted, locked in a dead-even struggle.

Macas had suffered a slight disadvantage; after all, his newly attained super Blood Emperor power was still unstable. Realizing his battle with the uncle was fruitless and seeing that four out of his five lieutenants were dead, his only remaining son crushed beneath my foot, and Louis buried in the earth—already laid to rest—Macas could not tolerate such humiliation for his son.

He maneuvered closer to the uncle during their entangled combat, then suddenly unleashed a brilliant light, sending the uncle flying ten meters away, before plunging toward me.

Seeing Macas activate his protective aura, the uncle's expression changed dramatically. In midair, he shouted at Macas, "You traitor of the Three-Headed Evils, how dare you defile Lucy's soul! You will be hunted by all werewolves!" Then, he followed Macas's descent, calling out to me, "Young man, get out of the way! You're no match for him!"

But it was too late. Macas's shield enveloped me, and I felt a gentle energy—unlike anything I had ever experienced—swiftly push me twenty meters away.

Though it felt soft, I was gravely injured. Before I could regain my footing, I collapsed to my knees, blood spurting from my mouth.

I had not expected such gentle energy to be so bizarre, so devastating—it even forced the fiendish blood from my body, leaving me instantly weakened.

Macas did not linger, but dug Louis from the earth, spread his wings, and flew into the distant night sky. The formidable uncle did not pursue him, but instead approached me, followed closely by the silver-haired werewolf.

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