"You are a Dragon Knight," Gawain said. "Fight me, and I’ll help you keep it a secret."

’So he found out after all. Makes sense. Being forced to kneel three times is something you never forget. If he kept investigating, he was bound to find out the truth eventually.’

Baron touched the sleeping Witch’s still-beautiful face, confirming that her temperature had indeed dropped. He sighed and said:

"One strike. I will only make a single strike."

Gawain’s eyes flashed. He pulled out ten Gold Coins. "I won’t use Spiritual Power or any Promises either. And you are not allowed to use your Dragon Knight’s Status Suppression. This will be a pure contest of skill... These ten Gold Coins are compensation..."

"The nobler the Dragon Species, the more they love Gold. As a Dragon Knight, I imagine the Pure-blood Dragon Race you’re contracted with will be very pleased with this gift from you."

’I forgive you.’

Upon seeing the ten Gold Coins, that was the only thought in Baron’s mind.

Gawain tossed the ten Gold Coins onto the ground and reversed his grip on his golden spear. "I too will only make one strike. To show my sincerity, I promise that I will thrust when the sunlight leaves my feet, and it will be a frontal attack."

"If you win, in addition to the ten Gold Coins, I can give you the ’Dragon Spear’ secret manual that His Majesty Richard bestowed upon me."

’Sorry, I don’t need it.’

"If you lose, the ten Gold Coins are still yours. But at the same time," the Sun Knight paused, holding up three fingers, "you will have to kneel before me three times."

’And you say you didn’t hold a grudge!’

Baron glanced at the still-unconscious Carmen and pleaded internally, ’Miss Witch, please wake up. Being with you seems to have soured my luck. I can’t hold on much longer like this.’

He flung out his Spear Sword. With a tremor, the locked blades sprang apart. The Light from the gap between them shone on the snow-patterned edges, reflecting a vast, cold glint.

"Then let me tell you, I will strike down."

"Is that it?"

Baron smiled. "That’s it."

The two locked eyes. The moment the sunlight vanished from beneath Gawain’s feet, they abruptly blurred into two streaks of light.

Gawain thrust straight ahead. Baron... swung upward from below!

’No honor at all!’

The light and shadow of blade and spear intertwined endlessly. The wind blew, the trees fell silent, and injuries were taken without a cry.

When the dust had settled, a bolt from the blue... Baron pulled the trigger.

Gawain was stunned, frozen in place. The Alchemy Bullet had blasted a large crater in the ground before him.

Baron clutched his wound, panting heavily. "I win. We agreed to one strike. Anything after that doesn’t count. Give me the ten Gold Coins, and then leave..."

Gawain stood motionless, staring at the Demon Hunter’s bleeding wound. His gaze fell upon the face of the woman behind him—a face both pure and flawless, yet bewitchingly demonic. His eyes lingered on her blood-red lips.

Baron said, "I only told you I would strike down. I made no promises beyond that."

Gawain was silent for a moment. He looked at the blade wound on his own chest, then at the wound on the Demon Hunter’s shoulder, and finally nodded.

"You’re right. I lost. Your first strike hit my left side, while I only pierced your right arm."

"In a real battle, your strength might have been enough to slice into my heart. I was the one taking advantage of your situation... These ten Gold Coins are yours... And this ’Dragon Spear’ manual, a gift from His Majesty Richard, is yours as well..."

He tossed a booklet to Baron. "These are the spear techniques I practice. We will fight again."

With that, he pulled his gold-like spear from the ground, used his Spiritual Power to stanch the bleeding from his wound, and gave one last look at the Dragon Scales that had quietly appeared on Baron’s hand before leaving.

Baron watched his retreating back, neither picking up the money nor taking the ’Dragon Spear’ manual. He clutched the wound on his chest, staggered backward, and collapsed into a pool of his own blood.

He fumbled inside his windbreaker and pulled out the Lucky Goddess Necklace. He had activated it at the start of the fight, which had granted him extreme luck during the battle, allowing him to perilously evade several of Gawain’s killing blows that would have brought him to his knees.

But with such a severe injury now, even though he knew that the longer he used it, the more severe the subsequent bad luck would likely be...

...but if he were to stop using the necklace, Baron reckoned he might just die on the spot.

’I just don’t know if my soul, as Zhou Yike, would be reincarnated in Hell or the Netherworld.’

At this thought, he gave a tired, self-deprecating laugh.

’I’m really something else, to still be in the mood to snark in a situation like this.’

The Witch was still deep in sleep, but her breathing was much more even now. Blood soaked her long dress, and her red hair clung to her flower-bud-like face like scattered petals.

Baron couldn’t smell the stench of blood. All he could smell was the woman’s scent—a mixture of tulip, datura, and iris, along with an extremely faint, warm fragrance, like a morning breeze blowing over a grassy field.

His gaze lingered on the woman’s long, snow-white neck, and the bloodlust that rose in his heart ignited like tinder in a pile of firewood.

Gold and crimson shifted within his pupils. He felt he was about to lose control and bite the Witch’s neck.

’But I can’t... Why can’t I?’

’I have to restrain this bloodlust. If I can’t, how am I any different from the Blood Race?’

’But first, I have to survive, don’t I...?’ He lay prone on the ground, baring his fangs at the Witch’s snow-white neck. The warm fragrance grew stronger, and as he drew closer, he could even see her individual eyelashes.

He wanted to bite down, but he no longer had the strength.

Gawain’s spear had pierced his body too many times during the fight. He had neither the Spiritual Power nor the blood left to mend his wounds. Combined with the day’s exhaustion, he could no longer hold himself up.

He collapsed on top of the Witch.

’So soft.’

That was the first thought that entered his mind.

’This is bad.’

This was Baron’s final thought before he lost consciousness. Then, his bloodlust ignited like a Fire in his chest.

That pitch-black shadow rose once more from the land, gazing down upon the earth.