[Nineteen] The Demon-Slaying Army and the Iron-Blooded Guard

67
Father Renouard spurred his horse at full speed, kicking up a trail of dust along the way, and finally arrived at the Paradise Inn. Under the night sky, the inn’s lights reflected off the cobblestone-paved courtyard, casting a warm, shimmering glow. Renouard lightly knocked on the door, pushed it open, his steps carrying a hint of urgency, and his gray priestly robe was covered in the dust of the journey.

He walked toward the reception desk, his gaze sharp as he scanned the surroundings, then spoke in a low voice to the man behind the counter: “May I ask, where is Father John Chen?”

Robert frowned slightly, examining the cleric before him with a tense air: “May I ask who you are…?”

Renouard straightened his posture, taking out a letter and lightly tossing it between his fingers: “I am Father Renouard, from the Holy See. Father Stron sent me—he is Father Chen’s junior disciple.”

Robert’s expression turned solemn, and he nodded: “Please wait a moment.” He walked toward one side of the lobby and whispered a few words to Wilson, who was standing in the corner. Wilson’s expression immediately became grave. He stepped forward, locking eyes with Renouard for a brief moment: “You are Father Stron’s messenger?”

“Exactly,” Renouard replied without hesitation. “This letter must be delivered by hand to Father John Chen.”

“Please follow me.” Wilson turned and led the way, his steps steady as he ascended the red-carpeted stairs. At the end of the corridor, they arrived at Room 505. Wilson raised his hand and knocked three times on the door: “Father Chen, this is Wilson.”

The door quickly opened. Lin Xiaoyang stood at the doorway, slightly turning his body in a guarded manner as he appraised Renouard: “Wilson, who is this?”

“A priest from the Holy See, Father Stron’s messenger,” Wilson introduced briefly.

Hearing this, Lin Xiaoyang immediately stepped aside: “Father, please come in.”

Inside the room, candlelight flickered, and the cross on the wall cast deep shadows in the dim glow. John Chen sat at the desk, flipping through a thick handwritten manuscript. He looked up, his gaze falling on Renouard.

“Father John,” Renouard stepped forward quickly, taking out a fully sealed letter from his coat and handing it over with both hands. “This is a handwritten letter from Father Stron.”

John Chen took the letter, his fingertips lightly brushing the sealing wax, and quickly opened it. His eyes scanned the paper, and his expression gradually grew serious.

“My junior disciple writes that Anderson and his gang of monsters have already massacred multiple cities within Italy, causing panic among the citizens.” His voice was low and solemn.

“Anderson?” Wilson furrowed his brows, puzzled. “Wasn’t his target us? Why has he turned to harming innocent civilians?”

“Because he wants to distract us,” John Chen said after a moment of thought, slowly sharing his speculation. “This way, the Holy See will be exhausted trying to respond, and Princess Maria cannot focus entirely on countering his army. He creates chaos to cover his main force’s attack on our headquarters.”

“Despicable fiend!” Lin Xiaoyang clenched his fists, his voice full of anger. “He wants to plunge the entire world into chaos!”

Renouard added: “The Pope has already ordered Father Stron to form the Demon-Slaying Army to assist the military and police in clearing Anderson’s factions. At the same time, Father Stron hopes that you here can also take action to form a pincer movement.”

Wilson made a quick decision: “We must report this to the Princess immediately.”

John Chen looked up, a flash of cold determination in his eyes: “Renouard, go back and tell Stron that the Princess will act soon, and let him prepare.”

Renouard slightly bowed, his expression resolute: “Yes, Father John.”

He turned and left, his steps steady yet swift, as if once that door closed behind him, the flames of war would be ignited.

68
John Chen and Wilson walked through the dim corridor and entered the Sky Castle of the Dark World. The air inside the castle was heavy, and mysterious lights and shadows filled the surroundings, as if every corner concealed dangerous conspiracies. As they entered the main hall, Princess Maria sat on her throne, her expression stern, staring at the newcomers.

John Chen lowered his head slightly, speaking with care: “Princess, Anderson’s plot has expanded. He is harming innocent civilians, using cruel methods.”

After hearing this, a flicker of anger appeared in Maria’s eyes. Her hands gripped the armrests tightly, her knuckles turning slightly white, as she responded coldly: “This Anderson is truly despicable, daring to harm innocent people like this!” She stood, her steps steady, seemingly controlling the anger within her.

Wilson stood to the side, body slightly leaning forward, his gaze firm: “Princess, we must take action. We cannot allow him to succeed any longer.”

Maria’s gaze turned to Wilson. She gave a slight smile, a trace of cautious coldness in her eyes: “Of course, action is necessary. But we cannot be easily lured by Anderson’s strategy of drawing us away from our stronghold! His actions aim only to expose our main force. We must remain vigilant at all times and prevent any surprise attacks on Paradise Inn.”

John Chen straightened his chest confidently, smiling slightly, his voice firm: “Princess, with Lin Xiaoyang and me stationed at Paradise Inn, Anderson cannot possibly break in.”

Maria raised an eyebrow slightly, curiosity flashing in her eyes, and asked lightly: “Oh? How is Xiaoyang’s potential developing?”

John Chen’s smile deepened, his eyes revealing confidence and pride: “About seventy or eighty percent there. Xiaoyang’s strength now is not to be underestimated. Even the Grand Mage Rolf, if he were to face him, might not necessarily gain the upper hand. Moreover, he has recently self-studied a lot of Chinese martial arts—he says he got the inspiration from comics!”

Maria furrowed her brow, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes, and asked softly: “Comics? What kind of comics?”

A playful, slightly self-mocking smile appeared in John Chen’s eyes, and his tone carried a hint of amusement: “Yes, comics. Chinese martial arts comics.”

Maria let out a soft laugh, a trace of a smile lifting the corners of her mouth, her eyes filled with interest: “That’s certainly new! Xiaoyang really is extraordinary.”

John Chen smiled and nodded, then turned to the Princess’s command: “Yes, Princess.” He lowered his head and performed a respectful bow.

Maria turned to the Dragon Knight, her gaze firm, her tone leaving no room for doubt: “Dragon Knight, you take the Iron-Blooded Guard and cooperate with the Holy See’s Demon-Slaying Army. Act swiftly.”

The Dragon Knight did not hesitate. He clasped his fists and bowed, responding in a low voice: “Yes, Princess.”

Maria’s gaze became even more resolute. Her right hand formed a fist, her eyes sharp as a sword: “This time, we must thoroughly wipe out the Anderson Group and eradicate all future threats. No one can stop our justice!”

Her voice was passionate, shaking everyone present like a thunderclap.

69
The night was as dark as ink, the wind howled. General Black Bear led the Black Bat Unit silently through the sewers of Florence. Water dripped from the damp walls, shadows swayed under the dim lights, as if every corner hid unknown dangers. The unit quietly dispersed—two or three vampires per group—emerging from the dark alleys quickly and orderly, moving like ghosts, silent and unseen across the empty streets.

The city night was still under curfew. The streets were deserted, with only the roar of police cars and military vehicles passing street corners. The flashing, urgent lights briefly illuminated the gradually closing storefronts on either side. A small group of vampires arrived at the entrance of the Fortune Hotel. They wore tight-fitting clothes, black cloaks fluttering lightly in the breeze, their overall appearance like emissaries from hell, instantly causing panic among the reception staff. The female clerk’s fingers trembled slightly as she quietly pressed the alarm and triggered the indoor warning system.

Several vampires suddenly charged the counter. Before a server could react, one vampire quickly pounced on her, its sharp fangs piercing her neck, and black blood immediately flowed. Other servers and hotel guests, hearing the alarm, were all startled. A server standing in the hallway could not help but shout loudly: “Something may have happened downstairs! Everyone, lock your doors, stay calm, do not come out!”

Duty officer A at the police station’s operations center quickly noticed the situation. He hurriedly picked up the radio and pressed the intercom to call Chief Fabio: “Reporting, Chief. The alarm has been triggered at the Fortune Hotel on 12th Street. There may be an abnormal situation.”

Chief Fabio’s face appeared slightly dark under the light. He reacted quickly, issuing decisive instructions: “Monitor closely, dispatch patrol cars immediately, provide immediate support.”

Officer A nodded firmly, quickly making the call and giving the orders: “Center, center, there is an incident at the Fortune Hotel on 12th Street. All nearby patrol vehicles, proceed immediately to provide support!”

“Understood, Chief.” Officer A rapidly coordinated the scene, gripping the radio with both hands, leaning slightly forward, heart racing, waiting for the next instructions.

Fabio responded calmly, though still with a trace of unease, his tone firm: “Report any new developments to me continuously.”

In the police office, Fabio sat behind his desk, facing several senior officers, his expression serious. His fingers tapped lightly on the desk, producing a low sound, symbolizing the anxiety in his heart. When he spoke, there was a hint of helplessness in his tone: “As expected, defense is futile. How on earth did this group of vampires enter the city?”

Officer C analyzed calmly, his tone steady: “Based on current intelligence, I suspect they came through the sewers. That is the only way they could move undetected.”

Fabio nodded, picked up the telephone on his desk, and dialed: “Hello, General Duccio, this is Chief Fabio.”

From the other end, the adjutant’s voice came: “Chief, please wait a moment. The General is taking the call.”

Soon, General Duccio picked up the phone, responding in a deep voice: “Chief, this is Duccio.”

Fabio quickly reported the situation: “General, there is an incident at the Fortune Hotel. We have already dispatched personnel to handle it.”

Duccio’s tone remained calm, showing no hint of panic: “Understood. I will deploy additional special forces for support and mobilize immediately.” As soon as he finished speaking, he passed the orders to his adjutant.

Soon, two police vehicles arrived at the hotel entrance one after another. The sirens tore through the night sky. Two teams of heavily armed officers quickly disembarked. Leading them was a member of the criminal division wearing armor, holding a long gun fitted with a grenade launcher, exuding imposing authority.

Agent D scanned the surroundings and issued a deep-voiced order: “Comrades, once we enter, our two squads will search floor by floor. Squad members must not disperse under any circumstances, otherwise we will be surrounded and attacked by the vampires.”

The two groups of officers responded in unison: “Yes, sir!”

The two squads of officers entered the hotel lobby, the air filled with the stench of blood. They found two servers: one had collapsed on the counter, the other lay at the foot of the stairs. Four fang marks on the second’s neck were still dripping black blood. Both were barely clinging to life.

“Continue searching!” Agent D shouted, directing his squad to search upstairs.

Officers who reached the second floor found a server lying in the corridor, his face pale, hands pressing tightly over his wound. His fingers trembled as he pointed upstairs, his voice weak yet resolute: “Up there… they’re still upstairs!”

The other squad had already begun searching the first floor.

When the team on the second floor reached the third floor, the scene before them made their hearts race. Three vampires were dragging a server toward the stairwell. In the eyes of the three vampires flashed a trace of bloodlust. The leading vampire sank its fangs violently into the server’s neck.

Agent D shouted loudly, his gun already aimed at the vampires: “Let go of the hostage! Raise your hands!”

The three vampires immediately reacted, using the server as a human shield, hissing coldly: “Back off! Back off! Or he dies!”

In an instant, the battle shifted dramatically. The two squads of officers quickly advanced, firing from behind the vampires. Gunshots erupted like thunder, bullets tearing through the air, striking two of the vampires. The leading vampire did not hesitate, violently pushing the server down the stairs. Immediately, officers from the third floor also opened fire on the vampires. Smoke and gunpowder filled the stairwell, shrapnel scattered, the vampires’ heads were completely blown apart, bullet holes pockmarked their bodies like honeycombs. The deaths of the three vampires became horrific in an instant, and the scent of blood filled the entire corridor.

In the silent night, the echoes of gunfire continued to resound.

70
At dusk, golden rays of sunlight fell on the streets of Naples, the sky gradually turning deep blue. The Demon-Slaying Army led by Father Stron entered the city with determined steps. The convoy slowly stopped in front of the city police headquarters. Mayor Marco and Police Precinct Chief Giacomo personally came forward to welcome them.

Mayor Marco stepped forward, smiling as he extended his hand, his eyes full of expectation and respect: “Father Stron, upon receiving the Vatican’s call and learning that you would lead the Demon-Slaying Army here, all of us at the city government are thrilled.” He grasped Stron’s hand firmly, with moderate force but conveying deep gratitude.

Giacomo immediately echoed him, his tone full of urgency: “Indeed! The police force in Naples is far from sufficient. With just our police, I fear we cannot handle the threat posed by this group of vampires.”

Father Stron’s gaze was firm, his tone low and resolute: “This group of vampires is no longer merely ordinary evil beings—they are a tightly organized terrorist group. The Pope has explicitly instructed that I must fully support any local governments troubled by vampire incursions, particularly to eradicate Anderson’s followers.”

At this moment, General Lorenzo stepped out from the side, his brow slightly furrowed, a trace of concern flashing in his eyes: “Father Stron, do you need me to dispatch troops to accompany you? I can assign elite soldiers by your side to ensure everything goes smoothly.”

Father Stron waved his hand, his expression still cold and stern: “Not for now. The General’s forces are already stationed at all the city’s entrances and exits. As for these vampires, we have enough strength to handle them.”

Night fell, and streetlights gradually lit up, casting mottled shadows. The priests of the Demon-Slaying Army were dressed neatly, their magical instruments hung at their waists, silver spikes firmly gripped in their hands, fully equipped. Three priests formed a group, followed by a heavily armed detective. Accompanied by police vehicles, they proceeded to their respective areas, beginning this dangerous cleansing mission.

In a remote alley deep within the city, the silence was broken by the sound of footsteps. Several priests of the Demon-Slaying Army stood in the shadows, their gazes sharp as torches. Suddenly, from the darkness ahead, several slender black bat vampires lunged out, their eyes glinting with cold light. The two sides erupted into fierce combat on the dark street. Every vampire fell to the priests’ precise spells or sharp silver spikes, while the few remaining turned and fled in panic, disappearing into the night.

But after the skirmish, two surviving vampires quietly slipped into a cold sewer. Their faces were pale, breathing rapid, clearly having just experienced a life-and-death ordeal.

Ghoul Soldier A tightened his cloak, eyes full of panic: “Those priests clearly came prepared. We are no match for them.” He muttered curses under his breath, his voice full of frustration.

Ghoul Soldier B’s eyes flickered with unease, his fingers unconsciously touching his wounds: “Exactly. They must have been sent by the Vatican. Their skill alone is beyond ordinary men.” He tightened his cloak and lowered his voice: “We must report to the General and withdraw from this city. Otherwise, we will be completely wiped out.”

Ghoul Soldier A nodded, his expression growing even graver: “Let’s hide for a while, wait until their momentum subsides, then return to the base to report to the General.” As he spoke, he carefully observed the surroundings, wary of being tracked.

The two vampires moved silently through the dark sewer, occasionally stopping to listen for sounds outside. Gradually, the fear on their faces was replaced by calm resolve.