21: Chapter 21 Richard's Decision

At this moment, the number of survivors could be counted on one hand.

Besides Richard, Cecilia, and Liam, only two attendants and the Old Coachman remained alive.

Furthermore, one of the Old Coachman's legs had been crushed in the chaos, and he was leaning against a carriage wheel, gasping for breath.

The rest of the caravan members, including Hoffman, were all dead.

Val's body still lay in the mud just a few steps away.

Her eyes were still open, her amber pupils completely unfocused. Rain fell onto her eyeballs, pooling into a small puddle before overflowing from the corners of her eyes, as if she were still weeping even after death.

Richard walked over to her side and crouched down. His movements were gentle as he reached out to close her eyelids.

"Rest in peace, Val, my friend. I have avenged you..." As he spoke, Richard could not help but burst into tears.

But he quickly composed himself; what needed to be done now was to bring the living back.

He also needed to bring back the remains of the dead, collect the Vampire's ashes as evidence, and report this attack to the Adventurers Guild and the relevant authorities in Blackstone City.

The rain finally stopped before dawn.

Richard crouched beside Liam and reached out to pat the cleric apprentice's cheek.

It was very light at first; Liam's head lolled to one side with no reaction.

Next, Richard did not hold back, slapping Liam so hard that the entire man jolted up from the mud.

The cleric apprentice coughed violently, spitting out nothing but blood mixed with rainwater.

The wound on his abdomen seeped dark red blood with the rhythm of his coughing, but he finally opened his eyes.

"What happened to me... Where is that monster..."

Liam's gaze remained unfocused for quite a while before it finally refocused.

He saw bodies scattered everywhere, saw the blood all over Richard, and saw Val lying in the mud, never to move again.

He asked in a trembling voice: "Val... Val, she..."

"She is dead." Richard's voice was filled with grief and anger.

"That damned Vampire scum has been killed by me. You need to pull yourself together now and heal yourself and Cecilia."

Liam's hands shook so much that he could barely hold his holy symbol.

He fumbled in the mud for quite a while before finding the small, mud-caked silver badge.

Ignoring his own injuries, he held it up with both hands before Cecilia, his lips trembling several times before he could squeeze out a complete prayer.

A faint, pale golden light fell upon the tooth marks on Cecilia's neck. The skin at the edges of the wound contracted under the light, but then split open again.

This wound was completely unable to heal.

The skin around the tooth marks had turned dark purple, as if something was spreading from the wound in all directions.

A dense network of black veins extended upward from her neck, crawling over her jawbone and slowly creeping toward her eye sockets.

Liam recited the prayer again, but the light on the holy symbol grew weaker and weaker.

He had already used his Detoxification Spell and healing spells, but none of them had any effect.

In disbelief, he then cast a healing spell on himself and found it still had a certain hemostatic effect.

But for the wound on Cecilia's neck—which likely wasn't even a wound, but some sort of cursed mark—it was changing her body from the inside.

Liam's voice took on a sobbing tone, his fingers clutching the holy symbol tightly:

"I can't heal it. This... this is a curse. Her blood has already been tainted, and I cannot dispel it... I am too weak, boohoo..."

Liam added: "If she is transformed into a Vampire... there are only twenty-four hours left. There is no known antidote; the only way is to rush to the temple and find a high-ranking priest to perform a dispelling ritual."

"We won't be able to make it to the temple in Blackstone City in time. We're doomed... Cecilia will also become a bloodthirsty monster!"

Richard pulled Liam's hand away from Cecilia's neck and took a close look at the wound.

The Old Coachman stood up from the ground, leaning on a broken spear. His injured leg dragged behind him, and every step made him wince in pain.

He glanced at the black veins spreading on Cecilia's neck, then looked up at Richard with a terrified expression:

"She's been bitten by that thing; she's beyond saving!"

"She hasn't changed yet, but once she does, we will all die."

The Old Coachman's words were like a bucket of ice water poured over every survivor present.

The two surviving attendants instinctively took two steps back. One of them had already reached for the dagger at his waist, his eyes darting between Richard and Cecilia, a muffled swallowing sound coming from his throat.

The Old Coachman with the broken leg did not step back. The way he gripped the broken spear was no longer like a crutch, but like a weapon.

"Kill her! Kill her!" the Old Coachman shouted in a hoarse voice.

"Do it now, before she turns into that thing!"

"Yes... yes, that's right..." one of the attendants stammered in agreement, his lips trembling violently.

"Once she changes, none of us will escape. You were able to kill that Vampire, so you can surely—"

Richard stood up, pulled his halberd from the mud, and held it horizontally in front of him with one hand.

He did not point the spearhead at anyone, but he did not lower it either.

The halberd lay horizontally between him and Cecilia, its blade facing outward, glimmering with a cold, harsh light under the gray-white dawn light.

He said in an icy tone: "Don't anyone try anything. I was the one who personally killed that powerful Vampire, so I will naturally handle my own teammate."

The Old Coachman opened his mouth, wanting to say something more, but when he saw Richard's black eyes, he forced himself to swallow the words back.

Those eyes were filled with rage and thick killing intent; if he didn't agree, he might very well become another corpse on the ground.

This was no longer the chatty, cheerful young adventurer from before, but a cold, ruthless warrior.

Richard's hand gripping the halberd was steady—steady enough that no one doubted that if anyone dared to disagree, that halberd would pierce their throat without hesitation.

The two attendants exchanged a glance, neither of them daring to speak again.

"Everyone, take inventory of the supplies. Load anything usable onto the carriage, wrap the bodies, and place them on the last carriage."

"We leave immediately. From now on, you follow my orders."

After saying this, Richard bent down to help Cecilia up from the mud and leaned her against the side of the carriage wheel.

The female warrior's body temperature was abnormally low, a thin layer of cold sweat congealed on her skin, her lips were blue-purple, and her breathing was shallow and rapid.

He tore a piece of relatively clean fabric from his cloak and simply bandaged the tooth marks on her neck.

Richard then rummaged through his backpack for an empty leather pouch, walked over to the wet ground, and began to collect the Vampire's ashes by hand.

Much of the ash had been washed away by the rain, but some still remained on the ground, mixed with mud and gravel. Other than that, nothing else was left.

After finishing the collection, he tied the pouch tight and stuffed it into the innermost layer of his backpack.