Luo Han watched as Frieren began to charge her mana.
The surrounding soldiers noticed and started turning toward them.
Attacking first was a good habit.
Luo Han, who was at the back of the group, flickered away, distancing himself from Frieren’s party.
The guards on the street surged toward Frieren’s group, and the leading man and the demons hurried over.
Taking advantage of the chaos, Luo Han moved to the side of the street, instinctively suppressing his mana.
In the span of another breath, Frieren was already being grabbed by a guard, about to be forced down.
*Now!* Having consumed the essence of the Qual the Corrupt, no one understood offensive magic better than him!
Luo Han didn’t aim for maximum power; he prioritized speed.
He didn’t even raise his staff to avoid drawing attention, firing the spell the moment he lifted his hand.
A blue-white beam of light instantly crossed the ten-odd paces.
The cold demon in the blue coat turned his head sharply, his pupils instantly filled with a blue-white glow.
He instinctively activated his Blood-Doping Magic.
*No, too late.
I’ll die.*
The blue-white beam grazed Lugner’s shoulder, tearing away a spray of crimson blood mist and half of a severed arm.
For the first time, a crack appeared in the elegant demon’s composure—not from pain, but from surprise.
He stepped back half a pace.
Blood didn’t spray from the wound; instead, it squirmed like living tentacles, weaving together and quickly solidifying to stop the bleeding, reattaching the severed arm from the ground.
Throughout the process, his expression remained unchanged, except for his cold eyes which locked onto Luo Han, who had just emerged from the shadows of a street corner.
Beside him, the demon who looked like a young girl in an old western dress brandished a knight’s sword formed from dark purple mana.
She turned into an afterimage and lunged straight at Luo Han!
Luo Han was prepared.
“Defense Magic!” A hexagonal barrier instantly deployed in front of him.
The knight’s sword screeched against the barrier, sending sparks flying.
The barrier fluctuated but held firm.
“Count Granat,” Lugner’s voice sounded like metal grinding together, “is this your trap?”
“Luring us into the city under the guise of peace talks, only to set a trap?
Lady Aura’s Executioners are only five miles outside the city.
If anything happens to us, Lady Aura will invade immediately.”
At the same time, several guards who had regained their senses surrounded Luo Han.
Luo Han didn’t stay to fight.
Using the force of the impact against his barrier, he retreated rapidly.
With a few leaps, he was back beside the now-steady Frieren, Fern, and Stark.
The guards who were originally going to suppress Frieren had been distracted by the sudden turn of events, allowing Frieren to easily sidestep the tackle.
“Oh?” Frieren glanced at Luo Han, then at the spot where he had been hiding.
A very faint trace of surprise flickered in her purple eyes, as if saying, *So you’re actually capable of taking initiative like this.*
Before she could speak, Luo Han raised his voice, his tone filled with deliberate mockery: “Lady Frieren, did you hear that?
They said they’re here for ‘peace talks’!
Peace talks with Aura of the Guillotine, one of the Seven Sages of Destruction!
Hahahaha!”
His voice was exceptionally clear in the suddenly silent street, as if he wasn’t speaking to his companions but to everyone present.
Frieren blinked and understood Luo Han’s intent almost instantly.
She cooperated, her voice flat but equally clear: “Though it’s a bit strange coming from you…
it really is impossible.
Still, I remember she disappeared eighty years ago after suffering heavy losses.
I didn’t expect her to resurface in the North.”
The dialogue was like cold water poured into boiling oil.
“They’re just passing adventurers, I’ll have them seized…” Count Granat, who had been hurriedly explaining to Lugner, found his voice trailing off.
His hand gripped his sword hilt until his veins bulged, his gaze shifting uncertainly between the elf’s party and the demon beside him who was regenerating an arm.
“You…
perhaps you are adventurers who just arrived and don’t understand the situation.” The Count looked up, holding back the guards who were about to seize Luo Han and the others.
His voice was dry, yet he struggled to maintain his dignity.
“Aura reappeared in the Northern Kingdoms twenty-eight years ago.
We are currently conducting peace talks to avoid needless sacrifice…
like my late son!
The chain of hatred must be severed!
Surrender immediately and apologize to Lord Lugner, and perhaps…”
“Sever the chain?” Lugner cut in smoothly, flexing his new arm, his face once again wearing that reserved and hypocritical mask of pity.
“Yes.
My father also died at the hands of humans.
I have come today precisely to end this pathetic cycle.”
“Haha…
Hahaha!” Luo Han suddenly burst into laughter, laughing so hard he nearly doubled over.
The sound was grating in the heavy atmosphere.
Everyone looked at him, including Frieren, whose eyes held a thoughtful look.
Luo Han straightened up, the smile still on his face but his eyes icy cold.
“Lady Frieren, listen to him.
What did he say?
‘My father’?
‘Sever the chain of hatred’?”
He looked Lugner straight in the eye.
“Since when do demons have the concept of ‘raising offspring’?
And since when could you understand ‘hatred’ and ‘chains’—things that require empathy to comprehend?”
He pointed to his own chest, his words like thrown icicles: “Since I woke up in this body, all I felt was a cold void.
No desire to procreate, no ties of kinship—only the instinct to hunt and survive.
If I didn’t still have the memories and emotions of my previous life as a human, I would have long ago devolved into a pure mass of mana.
Empathy?
That’s a word that doesn’t exist in the demon dictionary.
You’re putting on this show for a reason.”
Frieren listened and nodded slightly, though her gaze toward Luo Han now held an extra layer of scrutiny.
“Though you might not believe him, what he says is essentially fact.
Demons do not have the habit of raising offspring, and it’s impossible for them to understand a chain of hatred through empathy.
They must have some other motive for doing this.”
The Count’s expression wavered.
His hand holding the sword trembled slightly as he turned hesitantly toward Lugner.
“You…
you all…”
The hypocritical pity on Lugner’s face peeled away like a mask.
He stared at Luo Han, his scarlet tongue licking his lips, an arrogant expression taking hold.
“This scent…
though you’ve skillfully masked it with magic, the ‘texture’ of this mana doesn’t lie.
Why are you mingling with them?
Submit to me and serve Lady Aura together, or else when she conquers this city, you will turn to ash along with these ants.”
“Conquer this city…” The Count chewed on the words, his pupils shrinking as the last of his denial vanished.
“You never intended to negotiate!
Guards!
Seize them!”
“So…
noisy.” Lugner snapped his fingers elegantly, as if shooing away flies.
“Draht.”
“Yes!” The demon with the appearance of a youth who had been standing silently in the back looked up, his fingers suddenly splaying out.
In the next second, a dense, ear-piercing *crack* rang out!
The dozens of guards surrounding the demons—who were about to charge—had their helmets and the heads beneath them severed from their bodies without warning.
The heads hit the ground with dull thuds.
The headless bodies stiffened for a moment before collapsing, the sound of armor hitting the pavement sending chills down one’s spine.
Only Count Granat froze in place, his face as white as paper.
In the hands of the demon youth named Draht, nearly invisible threads of mana shimmered faintly.
“Tsk, a step too slow.”
Frieren had raised her staff at some point.
A swift attack spell shot toward Draht, only to be blocked by a wall of blood raised by the prepared Lugner.
“You noble, do you understand now?
Believing the lies of demons is a grave mistake.
Language is merely a tool to them.”
Lugner had completely torn off his disguise, leaving only the coldness and impatience of a predator.
“This tedious performance should end.
Draht, bind the Count and then kill that traitor; we need the method for breaking the city barrier from his mind.
Linie, the warrior is yours.”
Rich blood gathered and stretched in his hand, turning into a ghoulish whip.
“As for these two half-baked mages…
I’ll handle them.”
The blood whip tore through the air, lashing toward Frieren’s face, only to be stopped firmly by a layer of seemingly thin but indestructible defensive magic.
“Luo Han,” Frieren’s voice remained level as the tip of her staff began to construct a complex light, “this is all the trouble you caused.
There’s no helping it.
Let’s go.”
“I’m to blame for this too?” Luo Han raised his staff and shrugged helplessly, though his eyes had turned sharp.
“Was I supposed to just watch them trick their way into breaking the barrier and offer the whole city to Aura as a snack?”
The battle erupted instantly.
Linie shrieked as she charged toward Stark, swinging her weapons with extreme speed.
Though Stark was pale with fright, screaming “Don’t come near me!” he still reflexively swung his giant axe.
The heavy blade, carrying a whistling wind pressure, parried and forced back Linie’s swift but low-power attacks, creating a temporary stalemate.
Draht tried to attack Luo Han with invisible threads while looking for an opening to tie up the Count.
But Luo Han was prepared for his magic.
He calmly maintained his defensive magic while constantly moving, looking for opportunities to pelt Draht with attack spells, preventing him from acting freely.
The main battlefield was between Frieren, Fern, and Lugner.
Lugner’s Blood-Doping Magic was eerie and difficult to defend against; blood could turn into blades, whips, shields, or even a mist that attempted to corrode.
Frieren’s response was textbook-perfect.
Her defensive magic always appeared at the most critical spots, and her counterattacks—those seemingly ordinary offensive spells—were launched at angles, timings, and mana densities so precise that Lugner was forced to constantly consume blood for defense or evasion, unable to go all out.