Chapter 125: Chapter 100: Demon Hunter Origin

As their blades crossed, Baron’s mind raced like lightning.

He could feel the power surging within him, but he could also sense the unknown decay that followed this violent torrent.

By his estimation, the Blood Pattern would last for less than a minute.

So if he wanted to defeat the Shepherdess, he had to end the fight within that minute.

Likewise, as their Blood Blades locked, several ethereal blue sparks of Fire materialized behind the Shepherdess, slowly spinning. They were, shockingly, the Dragon Flame that Baron had only just recently mastered.

The ethereal blue Dragon Flames shot towards Baron from the air, their trails weaving into brilliant ribbons of fire—the same color as the star map in the sky.

Baron stopped short, then dodged back, using his blade to split the flames. At the same time, crimson sparks gathered behind him.

In just a few breaths, they took form.

With a wave of Baron’s finger, the sparks collided, erupting in an even larger burst of light.

The instant the explosion vanished, the Shepherdess charged with her blade again. Baron seized the momentary opening without hesitation, raising his Blood Blade to parry.

A tremendous force transmitted from the point of impact. Baron felt his hand go numb and the sweet taste of blood on his tongue. But before he could raise his blade to counter again—

The Shepherdess suddenly retracted her Blood Blade. Baron’s eyes narrowed. He seized the fleeting opportunity and swung his sword at her snow-white neck.

The Shepherdess flicked her wrist and parried his heavy strike. Her crimson skirt danced like layers upon layers of red blossoms tumbling on ocean waves.

Beneath the surface of the sea, the killing intent was palpable.

An ethereal blue flame shot out from under her red skirt, heading straight for Baron’s face. It wasn’t fast, floating lazily as if it were a leaf spinning in the wind.

But faced with the approaching flame, Baron didn’t move.

He couldn’t muster the strength in his legs, and his blade was pinned by the Shepherdess. At the same time, she conjured another Blood Blade in her other hand and thrust at him from the left.

A dense flurry of blade gleams enveloped him like petals falling from the sky.

At the moment of crisis, Baron abandoned his Blood Blade. He ducked, conjured a new one in his hand, and let the Shepherdess’s blade pierce his right shoulder as he thrust his own straight toward her heart.

SHLICK...

The blades tore through cloth, and both Blood Blades sank into their respective bodies.

A flicker of joy rose in Baron’s heart, but he suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood.

The side effect of Burning Blood left him feeling completely drained. That, combined with the blood chain that had instantly formed from the wound in his right shoulder, piercing his lungs, sent him collapsing to the ground.

He struggled to lift his head from the damp Flower Sea. The Shepherdess calmly pulled the Longsword from her chest. Blood trickled from the wound, adding another layer of garish trim to her crimson skirt.

She didn’t fall. She just stood there, the look in her eyes as blank and flawless as her face.

A spark ignited behind her, drifted down, and touched Baron’s body, setting him ablaze.

Flames flared up. Amidst the numbing pain, Baron rasped from within the inferno, "Why..."

He wanted to ask why the Shepherdess was unharmed.

’The sword clearly hit your heart! You can revive indefinitely in this Dreamland just like me, right? Even if you’re just faking it, could you at least give me the positive feedback of defeating a boss?!’

The Blood Pattern on the Shepherdess’s body dissipated along with Baron’s. She looked past the flames engulfing the man toward a fig tree by the nearby cottage and said coolly, "Because I don’t have a heart."

’It’s not you...’

Baron’s vision went black. He woke up in bed again.

He got up and pulled open the curtains. It was still pitch-black outside. By the faint light from the street, Baron touched his chest. The pain was distinct, but there was no wound.

He closed his eyes and used his Spiritual Vision—imagining a third eye in his head—to look inside his body. His Spiritual Power was as placid as before, showing no fluctuations.

He then took the parchment from his Holding Ring. After staring at the pattern on it for a moment, he cut his palm again and nervously began to inscribe the Blood Pattern with his blood.

Perhaps because he was now familiar with the process, the inscription went smoothly this time. It took less than half a minute, much faster than in the Dreamland.

Feeling the power churning like magma inside him, Baron let out a long breath. It seemed his theory was correct.

He had been worried that the Blood Pattern wasn’t like Hunting Skills, something that could be mastered simply through memorization and practice.

He had spent a great deal of time in the Dreamland mastering the technique and overcoming the difficulties of its inscription, but he feared he would have to "overcome" the process of inscribing the Blood Pattern all over again in reality.

Thankfully, however, when inscribing the Burning Blood’s pattern in reality, he did not encounter the same profound, mysterious obstacle he had in the Dreamland. He completed the inscription easily and smoothly.

Looking at the strange pattern running from the back of his hand up his arm, Baron conjured a spark of fire to circle around him for a moment before quickly dispelling the Blood Pattern. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Tomorrow, he had to honor his agreement with Yalilan and represent the Fude City Demon Hunters in the Hunting Competition. Using the Blood Pattern consumed too much energy, Spiritual Power, and blood.

He had to use it sparingly.

With that thought, Baron dragged his utterly drained, weak, and exhausted body back into bed.

He closed his eyes and imagined his first-period math class from the afternoon: the math teacher dressed like a sleeping pill, the psychedelic formulas on the blackboard.

Before long, he entered the Dreamland again.

The Shepherdess nodded at him, just like the previous few times. She was like a Westerner in a movie... no, they were Westerners to begin with.

She got straight to business!

She didn’t even give Baron time to conjure the Burning Blood pattern!

Baron parried her attack and demanded an explanation, but the Shepherdess just said coolly, "A Silver Faction Demon Hunter’s Alchemy Circuits can cover their entire body in a single breath. Once a battle starts, an enemy will never give you more than two."

’Because one is an Authority and the other is an imitation...’

Although Baron was complaining internally, he still parried during the fight, just as he had in his hundreds of previous deaths, while quickly conjuring the Burning Blood pattern.

The cycle of life and death, death and life, played out once more in the field of ethereal blue flowers.

...

「Late at night. The First Hunter Association’s library.」

Yalilan carried a kerosene lamp, her gaze sweeping over the rows of bookshelves she passed, as if searching for something.

She was dressed in simple casual clothes. Her dark, curly red hair was tied back in a ponytail. A round, single-lensed pince-nez added a touch of intellectualism to her otherwise stern demeanor.

Her clear face, beautiful, floated in and out of the light and shadow.

She stopped. Her eyes came to rest on a book with a worn spine, its title faintly legible: *The Origin of Demon Hunters*, authored by Geralt.

She paused, then pulled out the book, just as she used to do back at the Haiweide Church Academy—staying up late to read by lamplight with a few friends after a long day of Hunter training.

She found a suitable and comfortable spot at the foot of the bookshelf, placed the kerosene lamp beside her, and began flipping through the pages one by one in the dim light.

Her fan-like lashes fluttered. Words glinted behind the lens. Soon, her eyes stopped on an article titled "Lost Hunting Skill—The Shaking Blade Technique."

She skimmed it quickly, summarizing the main points:

This article didn’t explain to Demon Hunters how to use the Shaking Blade Technique, but rather introduced its origins to future generations.

According to the article, the earliest use of the Shaking Blade Technique came from an ancient war, a war almost forgotten by the Prole People in the corners of history.

In that war, the Withered Church, which once stood on equal footing with the Black Moon Church in Prole, was annihilated.

The Saintess of the Withered Church, who wielded the Second Law, the Sadness Law, disappeared. She is known today in the Alchemy Chronicles as the first Witch of Prole—the Sad Witch.

Some say she died, for the verse of a famous bard from that time recorded the moment she was impaled by the Golden Lion Knight’s Holy Spear and sent flying through the air.

Others say she is not dead, but imprisoned deep beneath the Prole Royal City, a companion in death for the soul of the deceased First Emperor. They say that sometimes, when walking the city’s streets late at night, you can hear crying in the distance—the tears of the Witch.

...