Chapter 238 Chapter 235: Blood-eyed Silver Hair
Akane’s speed and decisiveness exceeded Jima’s expectations. She was still admiring the exquisite profile of the blood-eyed, white-haired girl, her gaze just reaching her chest when, with a “thud,” the stake was driven into the ribcage of the blood-eyed, white-haired girl.
The blood-eyed, white-haired girl widened her beautiful blood-red eyes in pain, looking so innocent, like a newborn baby, yet brutally tormented by the malice of the world.
Akane swung a hammer pulled from who knows where and quickly brought it down again.
The stake was mercilessly driven into the rib of the blood-eyed, white-haired girl, accompanied by the sickening sound of breaking bones.
The blood-eyed, white-haired girl thrashed in pain, her crimson lips dripping with bright red blood, her blood-red eyes reflecting Akane’s face.
“Van Helsing!” Jima shouted, “What are you doing? Stop it!”
“Stop my ass!” Akane shouted back, pulling out another stake.
This guy showed no mercy! Such a delicate, beautiful, and slender beauty, how many years would it take to grow another like her?
Jima felt as if she was watching a coarse farmer smash a perfect piece of porcelain on the ground. She extended her branch spear and said, “Why?”
The witch hunter Akane leaped around Jima, forcefully driving the stake down, saying:
“This chest has been preserved for centuries, and there’s someone inside moving, dressed in gaudy clothes, yet without any body heat—what else could it be but a vampire?”
With that, the second stake was hammered down.
Jima was furious, “But do we really have to kill a vampire?”
“Of course! Take advantage of her illness to take her life!” the witch hunter Akane said. “It would be a hassle once she gets up. I’ve dealt with enough vampires as it is.”
“Could it not be a noble lady, reasonable and adorable, who opposes the death of the living?” Jima argued. “Perhaps she was imprisoned in this chest because she doesn’t fit in with the other vampires.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
The witch hunter Akane drove the fourth stake in, and Jima could no longer bear to look at the blood-eyed, white-haired girl in the chest.
Such a beautiful bloodline girl, yet she encountered a madman like Akane who played by no rules.
After thousands of years of imprisonment, the bloodline girl would finally open the chest and reveal her beauty to the world…
In a literary work, this would be the epitome of a romantic encounter.
“Damn! Still moving! Watch me with the sixth stake!” the witch hunter Akane grasped the hammer with both hands, making a chopping motion, “Feel the wrath of my Sigma Hammer!”
The hammer landed in the chest with a heavy thud, followed by the agonizing sound of breaking bones, and one could hear the bloodline girl’s faint cries: “It… hurts.”
Jima quickly stepped back a few paces, hugging her arms.
This beautiful encounter had completely turned into a bloody murder scene because of Akane’s madness.
“To still be moving after seven stakes, this isn’t an ordinary vampire; it’s really costing me,” Akane complained, drawing a curved dagger and taking out holy water. “Let me see if I can dismember you.”
This was basically a dismemberment case.
Jima could no longer stay: “I’m leaving. You better get your sleep on time these days.”
“Okay.” Akane turned her head, raising her bloodied hands, “Goodbye, my friend.”
Jima ran off and quickly took flight.
Behind her, Akane began to burn the corpse, flames shooting up into the sky.
The fire blazed fiercely, and Akane, like a true witch hunter, held the emblem of Sigma, muttering incantations nearby.
After skillfully dealing with the remains, it was already an hour and a half later.
Akane retrieved a few burnt pieces of jewelry from the remains, satisfied, planning to sell the chest as well.
She returned to town boldly requisitioning a cart to take away the chest. The entire town was silent, like a dead city; everyone had their doors and windows tightly shut, and the tavern was already empty. To her surprise, she found that all the bed linens had vanished.
Moreover, along the way, the once-vanished spectral army should have left behind some metallic armor, but it too was nowhere to be found, leaving only a few unwanted spears.
“These scavengers are more ruthless than I am,” Akane exclaimed. “The people of Silvane have their way of survival.”
With no choice, Akane drove the cart along the uneven streets, eventually finding a yard piled with straw.
“Hey! Open the door! The vampire has been burned by this witch hunter!”
After shouting several times, no one opened the door. But Akane noticed a slight crack in the door, revealing a single eye.
Furious, Akane shouted, “What I mean is, I am tougher than the vampire! If you don’t open the door, I’ll burn your house down.”
The crack in the door closed.
Akane, worn out and injured, was angered. It was bad enough that no one welcomed her in this damned place, but there was also nowhere to have any fun, not even a room to stay.
Akane directly kicked down the yard’s gate and drove the cart inside. Initially planning to start a fire, she saw the soft pile of straw, felt sleepy, and lay down, falling asleep just like that.
By dawn, as the clouds parted, the golden sunlight shone down on the grave-like town.
The continuous crowing of a rooster bombarded Akane’s eardrums, making him reluctantly sit up, rub his eyes, and put on his high-crowned leather hat adorned with a black cross and skull emblem.
Standing on the pile of straw, he looked at the town in the sunlight and noted it was different from half a month ago. When he had arrived then, he thought it was a dead city inhabited by the living dead.
Now it felt… like a dead city under the sunlight.
“The sun is already up, yet there’s not a single person on the street,” Akane complained. “Last night, I peed on the skull of that big bald head.”
At that moment, Akane reminisced for the five hundred twelfth time about life in the green-skinned tribe.
Having done such a great thing, even the fleeing goblins would come back to surround him, flattering and boasting about his achievements.
“Sigh, humans.” Akane said, standing on the pile of straw and relieving himself. “Humans are truly a bunch of pathetic creatures who don’t bow to power.”
He vigorously shook himself, jumped down from the pile of straw, and walked over to the horse pulling the cart, saying: “Horse, I peed on the skull of the big white head yesterday. He summoned a zombie dragon, looking so imposing, but I chopped his kidney out, killing him on the spot.”
The skinny horse blinked with innocent eyes and said, “Neigh.”
“What a fool, not a clue at all,” Akane remarked, drawing his curved dagger and knocking on the owner’s door with force: “Damn it, get out here! Hear me brag! Now!”
Inside was eerily quiet, as if everyone had died.
Akane got angry, casually grabbing a straw from his clothing, inserting it into the keyhole, and opened the door in under a second. He rushed in, and in a minute had chased all the living people who were hiding inside out.
Thus, this eccentric witch hunter went from house to house, unlocking doors and driving people out in one go.
The originally trembling residents, realizing there was no danger outside as they had imagined, quickly joined Akane in driving people out.
Originally, there were only a dozen people following Akane, with some trying to sneak away, but they were all pulled back by Akane’s grasp. However, as the number increased, more and more people joined this strange parade, and no one attempted to escape.
As Akane walked, he boisterously boasted.
Given that this witch hunter had survived the previous night and was now playing with the sword of the midnight aristocrat, the rest of the living people nodded eagerly, showering him with praise.
Feeling satisfied, Akane began to gesticulate wildly: “At first, I did this! Then this! Slashing the big white head’s kidney out with a blade, but he didn’t bleed and could still swing a sword back at me.”
As he spoke, he lifted his foot to kick, nearly sending his boot flying from the powerful motion, executing a perfect aerial kick:
“This kick hit him right below! He didn’t scream because he’s a vampire, but he instantly bent over because he’s still a man.”
Laughter erupted from the crowd.
“Sir! Sir! Witch hunter sir.”
A bald head emerged from the crowd, shouting: “There’s something important!”
“Call me Van Helsing,” Akane adjusted his high-crowned leather hat and coughed a few times, “What is it? Is the evil vampire returning?”
The bald man bowed down, saying, “When will you return the cart you borrowed from me last night? That’s our family’s only tool for survival.”
Akane replied, “Congratulations, your family can starve to death. I do have a few gold coins for you.”
“Lord Van Helsing, I can forgo the cart and the gold coins, but there’s a favor I beg of you.” After saying that, the bald man stepped aside, revealing an adorable little girl behind him.
She looked only about twelve years old, with a delicate face like a doll, her hair silver-white, and her eyes gray. She was covering her mouth with a smile, quickly lowering her head upon seeing Akane.
She wore a dress that didn’t quite fit, both unfitting and mismatched with her noble demeanor, resembling a princess who had secretly put on a lumberjack’s daughter’s clothes.
“Very pretty,” Akane said. “Are you asking me to find a match for your daughter?”
“No, no, sir,” the bald man said. “The vampire has always wanted my daughter, and I’ve hidden her away, but I can’t hide her for long. I beg you, take her away from Silvane to the Ivai territory to find a distant relative.”
“Oh, sure,” Akane said. “Come with me, little white-haired girl, white-haired?”
Suddenly, Akane turned his head quickly, widening his eyes to look at the white-haired girl carefully, saying, “Lift your head.”
The white-haired girl raised her chin, showing a hint of undisguised pride as she met Akane’s gaze, the sunlight spilling on her cheeks.
Akane stroked his chin: “Just right, I burned a white-haired, red-eyed girl’s corpse last night, she was just as exquisitely featured as you.”
The white-haired girl remained silent.
The straw that was pressed down by Akane’s hat brushed against her face, and unable to resist, she reached out and removed a few straws from Akane’s person.
“But your eyes are gray, and you’re not as tall as she was,” Akane thought this girl was nice—obedient, kind-hearted, and seeming unlikely to cause a fuss—but he felt his memory getting a bit fuzzy, “Or maybe I remembered wrong; she wasn’t white-haired?”
This girl always gave a feeling of wanting to help.
With a wave of his hand, Akane said, “Forget it, what’s your name?”
She said, “Weilin.”
Her accent was different from the local dialect, but some force made Akane overlook it.
“Okay, from now on you follow me; I’ll take you to Ivai, understand?”
Weilin nodded.
Akane turned around, raising both hands: “Alright, everyone disperse, load the food onto the cart. Anyone who doesn’t load is a heretic. I have to leave, and you all don’t need to miss me.”
Akane’s shadow fell on Weilin, her pupils constricting to a blood-red color. But in the end, she still followed Akane, sitting in the cart that swayed side to side and bounced up and down on the rugged road, leaving the town behind.
Akane shifted slightly, saying: “Ah, if only I could seize that floating black cart of the vampire last night, I could have hung a few bags of potatoes underneath.”
Weilin quietly clenched her fists, her sharp nails digging into her palms.
The wheels became stuck in the mud.
Akane jumped down from the cart, cursing: “Those vampires who always create overcast days, damn them! Making puddles that never dry up, you get down here too!”
Weilin looked at Akane curiously.
“I’m talking about you, come push the cart with me right now!”
Weilin’s eyelids twitched.
“Move it, or I’ll use a stick on your behind right now.”
Weilin immediately jumped down from the cart and began to push it together with him.
