Chapter Seventy-One: Dracula Strikes for the First Time

“This young lady doesn’t care what your reason is,” Gu Yan snorted coldly. “With just you, don’t even think about beating me.”

Wang Yuming raised his spirit blade. “You’re not my opponent. If you keep fighting, you’ll only bring trouble upon yourself. It’s better to admit defeat.”

“Anyone can talk big,” Gu Yan lifted her black-and-white dual pistols. “Watch me blow you away!”

Wang Yuming didn’t reply; instead, he responded with action. A powerful aura radiated from him as he swung his spirit blade, and a torrent of yellow sand surged, sweeping toward Gu Yan with overwhelming force.

Their battle ignited once more.

Everyone’s attention was fixed on the duel atop the stage.

Meanwhile, Cheng Feng, ever since catching a glimpse of Ye Lin earlier, found his gaze increasingly drawn to her. It wasn’t because of her beauty or any superficial reason; it was as if something instinctual within him compelled him to pay attention. The bloodline power of the vampire within him was urging him toward this girl.

And, he felt as though he’d seen her somewhere before.

Suddenly, in his mind, Cheng Feng recalled where he’d met her—it was the clumsy, blue-robed girl from the buffet restaurant.

Cheng Feng pondered for a moment, then took the initiative to walk over and crouch before her. As he drew closer, he discovered a faint aura emanating from her that was similar to his own. Though it was only a trace, Cheng Feng’s vampire senses would never mistake such a scent…

The aura on her was strikingly similar to that of a monster.

Ye Lin raised her gaze slightly, puzzled. “Is there something you need?”

Cheng Feng’s eyes flickered. “Not really. You just looked uncomfortable, so I wanted to ask if you needed any help.”

“Thank you, but I’m fine,” Ye Lin shook her head gently. “It’s just that I’m a little nervous—my match is coming up soon…”

So it was stage fright.

Cheng Feng suddenly noticed something amiss. “What are you afraid of? Didn’t you already pass through five rounds of elimination? Why so nervous now?”

“No, today’s match is different. That person will be watching me.”

Ye Lin’s gaze shifted to the VIP section, landing on Chu Xinghe.

Cheng Feng followed her line of sight. “Who is that?”

“Chu Xinghe,” Ye Lin murmured his name softly.

Cheng Feng frowned slightly. He didn’t know this figure, but since Chu Xinghe could sit in the VIP section alongside the chairman, he was surely no ordinary person.

Retracting his gaze, Cheng Feng asked, “Do you care that much about his opinion?”

“Yes…” Ye Lin nodded. “I came to compete this time to prove something to him.”

“Prove what?”

“Prove… that I’m strong enough now.”

Cheng Feng didn’t have much interest in probing her inner world. He stroked his chin and voiced the question gnawing at him, “Forgive me for asking something unrelated, but you seem to carry the aura of a monster.”

Ye Lin trembled slightly, as if hearing the very thing she least wanted to. She looked at Cheng Feng. “How do you know?”

Cheng Feng met her gaze calmly. “I’m very sensitive to the scent of monsters.”

Ye Lin pursed her lips and lowered her eyes, weakly rebutting, “I’m not a monster… I’m human.”

From her reaction, it was clearly a sensitive, private matter, and Cheng Feng felt awkward pressing further. The conversation stopped there.

Ye Lin suddenly asked, “May I know your name?”

“Contestant number one, Cheng Feng.”

She whispered his name, “Cheng Feng…”

Cheng Feng smiled, replying offhandedly, “We might meet on the stage later. If it really happens, I hope you’ll go easy on me.”

“Oh, alright…” she nodded woodenly.

At that moment, the result of the duel on the stage was decided.

The giant screen displayed the outcome of the second round.

[Gu Yan VS Wang Yuming, winner Wang Yuming—advanced to the quarterfinals]

As expected, Gu Yan was defeated. After Wang Yuming entered his spirit power liberation mode, her attacks proved futile, and she regretfully exited after only a few exchanges.

Gu Yan, severely injured and unconscious, was sent to the medical ward. With Jiang He already there, another wounded contestant was added.

Next up was Luo Ke, and the following fourteen matches passed quickly, with spectacular displays of superpowers one after another.

The audience and viewers at home were enthralled, and the eight contestants who advanced prepared for the next round.

A two-hour intermission followed, giving everyone—spectators and competitors alike—ample time for dinner.

At the buffet, Liu Shiyu commended Cheng Feng’s excellent performance, encouraging him to keep up the good work. His younger sister, Cheng Yi, promised to keep cheering for her brother.

Time flew by; two hours passed in a blink.

The semifinals began.

The staff had already cleared the stage.

On the big screen, the lineup for the next round appeared.

[Number 01 (Cheng Feng) versus Number 10 (Ye Lin)]

Cheng Feng was surprised—she was his next opponent.

What he’d said earlier to her, merely in passing, had come true. Was this a strange twist of fate?

Amid the cheers of countless spectators, Cheng Feng stepped onto the stage.

Opposite, Ye Lin had already ascended.

Their eyes met.

…

Meanwhile, elsewhere.

On the Eurasian continent, in Romania, within Brasov.

Bran Castle stood as a grand, majestic structure, its lights blazing bright, conspicuous in the city of vampires.

Its eclectic architecture featured Roman-style barrel vaults and round towers, as well as Gothic tall windows and exquisite glasswork.

As the residence of Vlad Dracula, progenitor of the vampire clan, soldiers—vampires themselves—patrolled every floor.

Atop the fortress, stood a tall, black-haired, red-eyed man clad in European aristocratic black garb, his demeanor elegant and imposing.

He was the fifth Abyssal Fiend—the Bloodthirsty Lord, Vlad Dracula.

Behind him stood three vampires—two men and one woman.

Aside from Elena, these were Dracula’s three most powerful lieutenants:

The dashing Count Belmont.

The alluring Princess Mary.

And the magician who had once dueled Cheng Feng.

Dracula stood with his hands behind his back, gazing over the distant horizon beyond the city’s architecture. His voice, devilish and enigmatic, rang out. “Today, the lowly humans are holding a competition among their demon hunters?”

The magician stepped forward and bowed slightly. “Yes, my lord.”

“If it’s a competition, ‘that man’ will surely appear, won’t he?”

“Yes, my lord. As the ace of the Disaster Association, Chu Xinghe will be present.” The magician answered respectfully.

Dracula’s gaze grew dangerous, a dense aroma of blood emanated, and his voice, solemn and chilling, echoed.

“Excellent! It’s been ten years since our last battle. Now, let this king witness how far Chu Xinghe’s power has reached.”