Returning to the Mysterious Era

Chapter 127 - The Muscular Crossbowman

Inside the first floor of Plinka Manor, a lavish hall on the right was dripping with grandeur.

A long table, covered with a silky blood-red tablecloth with golden palm-sized floral embroidery, stood in the center. Silver cutlery and smooth porcelain plates had been neatly arranged. Light came from the lit candles in the decorative candle holder set in the middle.

The dishes on the table smelled enticing: pan-fried black cod, tender beef ribs, creamy baked lobster, white mashed potatoes, cauliflower soup sprinkled with grated cheese, and a side dish of figs. The rich scent of fat lingered in the air.

Additionally, there were sweet wines and various cakes. These desserts, usually served after the main meal, were already on the table. However, despite the sumptuous spread, the seven diners around the table showed little interest.

There were four men and three women. The handsome men were dressed in tailored black suits, with neat hairstyles. The women wore bright red dresses that displayed their delicate collarbones and fair skin. Their red lips glistened from their makeup.

On the right side of the table, a beautiful woman in her thirties sipped her sweet wine. She quietly asked the man next to her, "When will the main course be served? I'm starving."

The elegantly poised man shook his head. "Lord Franz has gone to get it; it should be ready in about ten minutes."

"Alright then." The woman took another sip of her wine, her crimson tongue licking her full lips. She had a strange allure.

Suddenly, dozens of black bats, the size of fists, flapped over from the corridor at the back of the hall. Two human figures seemed to emerge from within the bats' shadows. Boredom forgotten, the diners were instantly excited at the sight and the seven whispered anticipatorily.

"The main course is here!"

"Finally, we can eat!"

"Hope today's blood wine tastes better..."

Flutter!

The bats dispersed, revealing a pale middle-aged man. He was dressed like an ancient noble, with white ruffled lace around his sleeves and neck.

"Lord Franz," they greeted in unison.

It was clear this middle-aged man held the highest status and power in this family of vampires. He could transform into bats, move at high speeds, implement curses, was able to manipulate blood, and induce fear.

Compared to him, the first vampire Cassius encountered was like an infant, possessing only slightly superior physical strength and basic blood arts, making him easy prey. Even Twilight could have defeated that vampire if he hadn't been distracted by the hostage situation.

Franz sat down at the head of the table, where two large silver goblets were placed far from each other. Two young girls sat quietly beside the table. Although their breathing and expressions were normal, they looked like mute puppets with their dull and lifeless eyes.

"The main course is here. Let's begin," Franz declared.

He disappeared and reappeared behind the two girls. With a swift slash of his sharp nails across their white necks, blood flowed out immediately.

Franz returned to his seat, waving his hand lightly. Two streams of blood arced through the air and filled the goblets.

The sound of thick liquid splashing was pleasant, and the sweet scent of blood filled the room. The vampires present grew restless, some tugging at their ties, others chewing their lips. Their eyes shone with a fervent glow. The seductive woman on the right side of the table swallowed hard.

Suddenly, from outside the French windows on the right side of the hall, dozens of powerful crossbow bolts shattered the glass, shooting into the room.

"What's happening?!" Many vampires screamed. As soon as they jumped up, they were struck by bolts. They were hurt quite badly; some bolts were coated in mercury, some in poison, and some were oil-soaked and aflame. One unlucky vampire's entire upper body caught fire, but he quickly tore off his suit.

"Is it those lackeys from Black Rain Manor?!" The vampires soon realized who their attackers were.

More arrows kept flying in through the French windows, forcing the vampires to hide behind load-bearing columns.

"There may be quite a few of them, but not enough to overpower us. From the way they're using crossbows, they must be the group of Hellsings skilled in long-range attacks!" Franz narrowed his eyes as he analyzed the situation. As a powerful vampire, he knew quite a bit about the dark world. "Let's run in and kill them. If we can get close, these archers will be no match for us vampires!"

Under Franz's lead, seven to eight shadows broke through the barrage of arrows and darted into the dark, open grounds of the manor.

Whoosh... Whoosh... Whoosh...

Arrows rained down in the darkness, with some lodging into the walls, some striking the ground. Sparks flew as some hit the lamp posts.

The vampires sprinted forward, using their superior physical abilities to dodge the arrows. Even when they were struck, there was only the briefest glimpse of weakness before they yanked out the bolts and continued their charge.

Franz led the attack, moving like a leopard. He used a high-speed movement ability to enhance his speed. The Hellsings from the Bolt Sect had difficulty locking onto him precisely.

Swish... Swish... Swish...

Arrows flew toward Franz in quick succession, but he dodged most of them. The few that came close, he blocked with his hands. Nothing hit his vital areas.

Thwack!

Under the moonlight, a heavy silver arrow careened toward Franz. His heart skipped a beat when he realized he couldn't dodge it. He raised his claws to block it. A faint red energy traced a path through the air.

Thunk!

"Ugh!" Franz let out a roar of pain. A thick, heavy steel arrow had embedded itself a third of the way in his chest. His right hand, which he had raised to block, had its index and middle fingers severed. There was a bloody, gaping hole in his palm.

What the hell?! How could this arrow be so powerful? It's at least three to four times stronger than the others!

Franz was shocked. He had thought he had his opponent's abilities and strength all figured out, only to find himself caught off guard. When he halted, several Hellsings focused their fire on him. Dozens of arrows almost turned him into a pincushion.

Franz quickly rolled behind a flowerbed to take cover. He pulled out all the arrows from his body. One of them was a steel arrow that was noticeably thicker than the others.

"Who shot this arrow?!" He panted, looking toward the dark grounds of the manor.

A muffled cry came from about thirty meters to Franz's left.

A vampire froze in the middle of his attack, his head jerking. A steel arrow as thick as a thumb had pierced his head, with the arrowhead and tail both sticking out from his temples. His brain was completely destroyed.

Although not fatal for a Blood Race, an injury to the brain could immobilize them for a few seconds. In those crucial moments, dozens of arrows had already buried themselves into this Blood Race, turning it into a blood-soaked pincushion. Mercury-tipped arrows, various poisons, and three flaming arrows ignited its clothes. Despite their strong vitality, the Blood Races weren't invincible.

The mercury weakened it, the toxins invaded its body, the flames burned the surface of their skin, and the incessant bleeding from the wounds drained its strength. This Blood Race perished quickly.

"Julio! Damn it!"

Franz took a deep breath as red smoke emanated from his hand and chest, rapidly healing his wounds.

"No!"

"Ah!"

On the battlefield, several more vampires were shot to death by concentrated fire, while some Hellsing members were taken down by the Blood Race in close combat. Overall, however, the vampires were at a disadvantage.

The darkness shrouded the master Hellsing archer. Like a calm assassin, he launched countless deadly attacks on the Blood Race. His arrows were notably thick.

"We have to take him out first!"

Franz, having recovered from his injuries, began to observe. A few seconds later, he pinpointed the master archer's position. He was in the shadows on the left side of a house, seemingly blending into the darkness.

Taking a deep breath, Franz dashed forward, becoming a blur as he leaped rapidly. His hands turned red, covered with a strange corrosive energy. His nails grew inch by inch, forming sharp curves like scythes, comparable to daggers.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

A few arrows shot out from the shadows, but Franz, who was fully focused on his goal, managed to narrowly avoid them. Within seconds, he rushed into the shadows. He immediately spotted the figure in the darkness—a man about 1.2 meters tall, dressed in black.

"Die, dwarf!" Franz roared as he charged, a terrifying aura exuding out of him.

Then, the "dwarf" stood up from a few meters away.

His height suddenly increased from 1.2 meters to 1.9 meters. His burly frame resembled a bear, showcasing strong, triangular muscles. He wore a black cloak that blended with the surrounding darkness, making him appear less conspicuous at first. He had half-crouched to get better aim which mistakenly gave Franz the impression that he was a dwarf.

Franz was momentarily stunned but not scared.

So what if he was muscular and burly? A human's physique couldn't compare to that of a dark creature. When it came to fighting in close proximity, a seemingly strong man against a slender, female-like Blood Race would undoubtedly end in the human’s death!

He stomped the ground and darted, his claws outstretched.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

A series of arrows flew through the air in the shadows. Steel arrows hit Franz's chest, but he ignored them and kept running. The use of crossbows indicated that archery was the opponent's only means of attack, making his strong-looking body nothing more than a paper tiger.

"Die!"

Franz materialized in front of the man in an instant, his eyes flashing with murderous intent. He crossed his hands and slashed down, his sharp, elongated red claws aiming at the man’s neck!

This strike could crack concrete!

Hiss...

There was an unpleasant scraping sound.

Franz felt like his hands were cutting into thick, tough leather and were unable to penetrate. He thought it was going to be as easy as slicing through butter but that didn't happen. The silhouettes showed Franz's raised hands stuck on either side of the man’s thick neck.

The man looked at him calmly. "I've killed at least dozens like you in the past six months. Your blood will consecrate my newly made muscle-enhanced steam-powered mechanical crossbow."

"What!" Franz's eyes widened in shock.

Crack!

His outstretched arms were torn off. Blood spurted from the stumps, revealing disgusting muscle fibers and severed tendons.

Thud!

Before Franz could react, he was kicked away like a broken doll. His chest caved in, bones cracking. Agony surged and overwhelmed him.

"Cough, cough, cough..."

Franz's head slammed into the wall with a thud, and he began to cough up blood. That man, that man...had such terrifying strength, how could he be an archer! This was a blatant deception! Shameless disguise!

Gathering his remaining strength, Franz tried to get up, only for a heavy foot to press down on his stomach, pinning him firmly to the ground. Franz felt like his intestines were about to be squeezed out.

Blood manipulation! He shouted inwardly. He made one last-ditch attempt to use his ability. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

But the man before him seemed unaffected.

"Go join your companions," Cassius said coldly, aiming an oversized mechanical crossbow at Franz's heart.

Franz watched, terrified, as he pulled the trigger.

Thud, thud, thud...

A grotesque large spray of blood blossomed from his chest.

The Blood Race's heart was protected by bones on both sides, but clearly had its limits. Under the flurry of heavy crossbow bolts, the small bones and heart were decimated. The hot liquid quickly pooled into a bloody puddle.

To be sure, Cassius grabbed Franz's head with his strong arm and slammed it into the side wall. A series of loud bangs echoed like firecrackers, flesh and blood splattering.

Franz's head was flattened into a pancake. Combined with his exploded heart, there was no way he could still be alive. Cassius twisted his neck, about to shoot more bolts when he noticed a white letter on the ground, seemingly dropped during Franz's brutal beating. He picked it up.