POTLS - Chapter 21: Count Dracula

The aisle leading inside was bathed in eerie, dim candlelight. Rows of long benches flanked either side, reminiscent of church pews. On the walls hung watercolor paintings depicting stylized scenes of a vampiric nobleman. In one, he stood with arms outstretched as streams of blood flowed around him, forming wings. In another, viewed from a hilltop, he pointed accusingly at the sun while an army of deadly vampires gathered behind him.

Above, unused chandeliers hung from the ceiling, producing delicate chimes as wind swept in through the entrance. Stained glass windows lined both sides, their colors distorted and warped by the Blood Moon's influence.

At the far end, fragments of glass formed a mosaic of the supreme ruler of Crimson Moon Estate. Those humanoid eyes seemed to capture all the moonlight, directing it down onto a polished black stone throne.

Upon it sat Count Dracula.

The map's boss kept his eyes half-closed, seemingly indifferent to the intruders who had just crossed his threshold. He only raised his head when all nine people reached the bottom of the steps. His gaze remained lazy, condescending.

Count Dracula stood up and began speaking, though no one understood his words. Yet one could still sense the nobility in his low, measured, calm tone. It was impossible not to feel inferior in his presence. Surely this was why he was considered a leader among the aristocracy.

After speaking for a while, Count Dracula's face contorted, his mouth tightening to reveal sharp, gleaming fangs. His chalk-white, lifeless face crumpled in rage. Black eyes slowly revealed red pinpoints of light. His hands clenched as he gesticulated wildly, his speech becoming uncontrolled. His anger made the entire group tremble, Paul included.

As Count Dracula's mood shifted, the atmosphere changed. The ever-present tang of blood in the air took on a sickly-sweet undertone. Skin began to itch as if exposed to poison. Ears felt compelled to hear the monologue the Count was delivering from his elevated position.

Finally, Count Dracula stopped gesturing, his mouth forming a thin line. Exhaustion and irritation showed clearly on his face. Without another word, he flung out his five fingers, and Blood Lances formed in an instant, shooting directly at the nine intruders who dared invade his castle.

Swords were swung to block the attack. Whips were used to knock away the Blood Lances. Arrows were shot, exploding on impact with the crimson projectiles.

In moments, dust and smoke billowed between the two sides, obscuring all vision.

When visibility returned, Count Dracula's eyes flashed. The simple black cloak covering him from head to toe unfurled, making him resemble a bat. From within the cloak, creatures born of shadow shot forth. Bats and black ravens flew straight toward the humans.

Count Dracula rose into the air, hovering indifferently as he observed everything. From behind, hidden beyond the black stone throne, came the sound of an organ. The monster's fingers waved up and down like a conductor's. The heavy sound of each organ note weighed on everyone present, like hammers pounding against their hearts.

Paul, hiding behind a large pillar, couldn't help but swallow hard at the scene before him. At another time, he would have considered this the most epic experience of his life. But now, thinking about confronting this being that existed beyond normal limits, he felt uncertain.

Should I continue? he asked himself.

A series of explosions brought his focus back. The user of [Daybreak Executioner] had just launched their skill. Seeing those bright spheres of light, like balls slicing through the black bats and ravens, Paul frowned.

This skill was much stronger than when he used it.

Puzzled, he checked the system's list of skills, confirming his was already at max level and couldn't increase further. So why such a difference? Synergy with another skill? A hidden evolution? Perhaps due to a talent? Or some secret he wasn't aware of?

The attack with the Holy effect irritated Count Dracula. He opened his mouth to roar, the ear-splitting sound piercing straight into their souls, stunning everyone for a second. Only Paul remained in a state of panic, while the nine Survivors had already recovered thanks to their teammates.

Count Dracula began engaging in close combat, forming Blood Lances at will that rampaged through the human formation.

With each slash or thrust, the Survivors struggled despite possessing powerful skills. The difference in physical attributes was simply too great. Though Count Dracula's exact stats were unknown, a single punch could break several bones of an E-Ranker who failed to dodge.

Count Dracula demonstrated his superiority with light, leisurely movements. For him, this was more like a dance performance than a battle.

The opponents weren't worthy of his full strength.

This disparity was only addressed when a white cross appeared, dispersing Count Dracula's Blood Lances and pushing him back. [Heaven Judgement] left a mist that dissipated after its successful deployment.

"God damn it, Max," one of the Survivors called out. "It's not time to use that skill!"

Max was about to respond when Count Dracula roared again.

A bright red streak appeared on his cheek. [Heaven Judgement] had wounded him, enraging him.

His hand swept forward, black claws long and curved like scythes.

All Survivors simultaneously felt weakened, dropping to their knees. Red dewdrops formed and flowed toward the monster.

Paul, far away, was awakened from the stunning effect by this ultimate skill. Life force was draining from him.

It knows I'm here, he realized in horror. Count Dracula was simply too lazy to deal with someone hiding like him.

[Blood Swing] was used in an attempt to reclaim the life force Count Dracula was stealing. But the whip was blocked by a sphere of blood surrounding the monster. A technique similar to [Blood Barrier] had formed, stopping attacks.

The archers joined the assault, but both tangible skills and invisible ones like [Silent Shot] proved useless. Arrows striking Count Dracula's protective layer were like stones falling into water, creating only small ripples.

Count Dracula's lip curled in contempt as two beams of light from the stained glass wall behind him focused on him. He opened his mouth and spewed a torrent of blood toward the humans.

The nine Survivors reacted instantly, scattering to avoid it. The red liquid seemed to burn the floor, emitting thick smoke and an unbearable, acrid smell. One of the survivors collapsed after inhaling too much.

[Regen Aura] was used to help them regain some resistance.

Paul covered his mouth and nose, hoping not to inhale enough to collapse.

"Fuck!" shouted the person who had earlier reprimanded Max. "Do you see what happens when we don't follow the plan? If we'd had [Heaven Judgement] to stop this, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"If you had done a better job handling him, I wouldn't have needed to use my skill to push him back," Max countered. "Useless bunch!"

Cracks were forming in what Paul had judged to be a solid alliance.

Count Dracula's blood pool wasn't simply stopping there. Similar to the Crimson Court Noble's skill, it was a precursor to summoning an army. Worse, what was conjured was even more terrible than Nosferatu Hunters.

Faceless humanoid figures emerged from various spots in the blood pool. Their skin was sticky, slimy, thick as mud. Each step they took scattered droplets with deep corrosive properties.

They charged toward their enemies without fear. Attacks had little effect on them. Cut them, and they'd regenerate. Shoot through them, and they'd quickly fill the holes. Only skills like [Daybreak Executioner] could truly dissipate them. They would still return, but it would take longer.

Whips and swords flashed continuously under the dim light of the chamber. Chairs on both sides were either cut apart or toppled into chaotic piles. The chandeliers above swayed violently as the force of the battle below reached them.

The team of nine Survivors, having to both avoid the blood pool on the ground and fight the blood humanoids, became separated. The range of [Regen Aura] was no longer sufficient to cover everyone. The girl possessing this skill had already consumed her second Mana Potion to assist her teammates. Her eyes darted back and forth in fear, uncertain whether to use her third potion.

Count Dracula wasn't content to just watch either. He wiped the corner of his mouth and leaped into the battlefield. Each time his cloak swung, crimson arcs were thrown out. Only through the intense focus of two people—one swordsman and one whip user—were they able to prevent the boss from bisecting their teammates.

Observing this, Paul concluded these two must be E-Rank rather than F-Rank. Their reaction ability and movement strength were clearly superior to the others.

Most importantly, they showed no panic or fear, remaining calm. As if they were here to teach and supervise the other seven. Especially, they believed they could run to preserve their lives rather than fight to the death. Their stats and skills ensured this.

With Count Dracula's participation and the creatures he summoned, the actions of the nine people became more difficult. The cohesion from before was gone. It seemed their plan had hinged on blocking the Count's blood-spewing skill. Now, they were just scrambling as things weren't going as planned.

Paul maintained his position, occasionally noticing the eyes of the two E-Rankers glancing his way. They must have noticed the tenth life force when Count Dracula was draining everyone.

He paid no attention, still committed to his plan.

The time remaining on the system notification continued to decrease. All he could do was wait for his opportunity.