TitoVillar
patreon
TWL Chapter 497: In the Presence of Power
🕑 Added 2025-07-19 23:55:14 +0000 UTC[Boom!]
The three vampires were hurled backward—at a speed even greater than their charge—as if struck by their own momentum. The force they had aimed at Lann rebounded upon them without the slightest loss, slamming into their bodies mid-air. Before they even hit the ground, their torsos were already rupturing, blood spraying through the air.
But they never made it to the ground.
A violet magic circle silently rose from the floor.
In that instant, their airborne bodies seemed forgotten by time itself—suspended in midair, drifting slowly like dazed fish lost in a current.
[Yrden Sign - Magic Trap - Yrden Intensity - Supercharged Glyphs]
Regis blinked in astonishment. He turned to glance at Lann, then, driven by curiosity, calmly walked forward to inspect the three vampires still floating in the air.
His movements were unhurried. The three attackers remained suspended, unmoving.
Over the years, Lann’s mastery of Signs had grown beyond recognition. Skills he had once overlooked as inefficient were now fully unlocked, backed by surplus skill points.
And the results were… astonishing.
Orianna and Dettlaff both swallowed hard, their eyes wide as they stared at their frozen kin.
Was this the power of the Elder Blood? They had always known the bearer of that bloodline could traverse time and space—but who could’ve imagined it would manifest so outrageously in battle?
Were those three going to float there forever?
Only now did Lann slowly rise from his seat. He gave Dettlaff and Orianna a warm, cordial smile before placing his hands behind his back and strolling over to the three airborne vampires.
He studied them like one might admire goldfish in a tank.
“You want the power of the Elder Blood too?”
He smiled. “All you had to do was ask. I would’ve given it to you.”
As he spoke, Lann opened his system interface and spent three skill points to unlock a new [Follower] panel.
“But…” Lann’s expression turned slightly troubled. “This does require your cooperation—which, at the moment, seems unlikely.”
“So I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble you three for a little while.”
Dettlaff and Orianna had no idea what Lann meant.
But in the next second, they suddenly felt streaks of wind and light slicing past them.
They looked down and saw a bolt of blinding lightning, emanating with terrifying energy, yet darting with uncanny precision. It slipped out from a rune shaped like an hourglass, deliberately weaving past their bodies—only to pour its fury directly onto the three Nilfgaardian vampires.
Dettlaff and Orianna only felt a gust of wind brush past them. Aside from its dazzling brightness, the lightning didn’t seem to possess much force. But the moment it struck the vampires, they saw searing heat and flames erupt in a violent blaze.
Then came the screams—drawn out, sluggish, and distorted. Every anguished note rang out with agonizing clarity.
“I originally planned to use Igni to pin them to the wall and burn them into glass. That would’ve been more efficient,” Lann said, arms crossed, speaking calmly to Regis beside him. “But since we’re in someone else’s home, I figured I shouldn’t ruin the furnishings.”
A faint chill crept down Regis’s spine.
“But now you believe I can protect you even in front of the Unseen Elder, don’t you?”
Regis narrowed his eyes. The lightning before him didn’t flicker—it surged in a continuous stream, so bright it threatened to bleach his vision.
This wasn’t lightning anymore.
Because it didn’t flash—it never stopped.
Regis slowly nodded, giving silent confirmation.
“…You’re really going to face the Unseen Elder?”
The hesitant voice came from behind.
It was Dettlaff.
Lann turned to look at the elder vampire.
As he stepped away from his original position, the lightning—filling every inch of space—seemed to shift with awareness, instinctively parting around his body.
The only constant was how those blazing currents remained locked onto the three vampires, clinging to them like a curse, the damage relentless and unceasing.
“That’s right. The Unseen Elder is a powerful being worth winning over—someone I must secure,” Lann replied with a nod.
“And as for you all… have you made up your minds?”
...
For Lann, contracting with high-tier vampires was far more convenient than with other creatures.
After all, he could beat them until they were completely incapable of resistance—without a shred of hesitation.
Their brains and bodies shattered into pieces—there was no way such a state could still be considered conscious.
Dettlaff and Orianna were still stunned by how effortlessly Lann had pulverized the three vampires. The next second, they watched in disbelief as emerald light flared around each of the broken figures, instantly restoring them to their original forms.
Their breathing grew heavy.
Was the Child of the Elder Blood going to re-break them now that he'd put them back together?
Lann had no idea what was going through Dettlaff and Orianna’s minds. He simply glanced at the system panel and nodded to himself.
Each vampire had only cost a little over a hundred experience points—not cheap, but not expensive either. For a forced contract, it was actually quite efficient.
Given the nature of these three, there was no way Lann would dare to command them unless it was through a contract.
Even with the mental branding that came with the contract, their unruly nature remained unchanged. In the future, Lann would only assign them the dirty work.
After all, not all high-tier vampires were created equal.
…
Meanwhile, the other three—Philippe and his companions—woke up from the ground in a panic.
They scrambled to check their bodies, only to find they were completely unscathed. The realization left them dumbstruck for a moment, before they scrambled away from Lann even faster than when they had launched their sneak attack, retreating to the far corner of the room.
Their eyes were now clear.
To Dettlaff and Orianna, it simply looked like three more of their kin had been brought to heel by Lann.
Lann, unbothered, sat back down on the sofa with unhurried ease, as if none of what had just happened had ever occurred.
He poured himself a glass of Est Est red wine.
“So, where were we, esteemed guests of Nilfgaard?”
Philippe’s eyes kept shifting between crimson and pitch black, as though some great hand were wringing his mind.
Three breaths later, he bowed his head.
“Let us join your banner.”
“No,” Lann replied coldly. “You made a demand, remember?”
“Say it.”
Philippe’s breathing grew erratic. His teeth chattered.
After a long hesitation, he stammered, testing the waters: “We… request the power of the Elder Blood?”
Lann smiled and nodded.
“And I’ve already granted it. Can you feel it?”
“Yes,” the three vampires said as though granted a royal pardon. They bowed completely before Lann.
“Your generosity shames us. Please—what are your orders for us now?”
The once-proud Nilfgaardian vampires had been completely defanged. Having witnessed this, Dettlaff and Orianna naturally abandoned any lingering doubts.
From this moment on, all five high-tier vampires now served under Lann.
But Lann had no intention of bringing them all back with him.
“Orianna and Dettlaff will remain in Toussaint. This duchy lies closest to the Northern Realms in the south. If we are to launch a counteroffensive, this will be the first front,” Lann instructed.
“You’re to build your influence here and be ready to cooperate with my operations at any time.”
The two vampires lowered their heads in acknowledgment.
Then Lann turned to Philippe and the other two.
“As for you—I already have agents embedded within Nilfgaard. You’ll join their ranks and follow their lead from now on.”
“…Understood.”
“And give this letter to Fringilla Vigo,” Lann added, flipping his left hand to produce a sealed envelope. “Tell her—it's time.”
...
Former Brokilon Forest, now the Independent Kingdom of Brokilon.
This was arguably the most peculiar kingdom on the entire Continent—not just because of its inhabitants’ unusual race, but also due to its singular “system.”
Though labeled a kingdom, it held virtually no diplomatic relations with neighboring realms, and its internal territory remained completely undeveloped. The only function this so-called “Independent Kingdom” served was political: it granted the dryads formal citizenship and gave Queen Eithné a vote in the Northern Alliance.
This so-called kingdom was little more than a vassal of Cintra.
Ever since Lann recovered his three children here, and the entire dryad race formally pledged their loyalty to him, loggers, miners, scholars, and herbalists from Cintra had poured into the forest. They came to harvest the treasures that had tempted four surrounding kingdoms for over a hundred years.
And Brokilon’s resources lived up to those centuries of covetous stares. Even after three years, the Cintrans had barely scratched the surface of the forest’s outermost reserves.
However, the forest hadn't been fully handed over to Cintra either. A boundary had been drawn deep within the woods—no humans were permitted beyond it.
The one who drew that line wasn’t the dryads.
It was Lann.
