Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint

Vampires had one bad habit: they always believed that time was on their side. Free from its constraints, they often wasted it indulging in distractions.

And now, they had wasted time listening to Kabilla’s words.

Even Runken, who had been relentlessly pummeling Tyrkanzyaka, had stopped.

“Hng! So you’re accepting the challenge now? I like it! I should’ve stopped holding back just because you were a lover!”

With a sharp snort, Runken let go of his brief disappointment.

It was a common misconception that boar beastmen were narrow-sighted and reckless. But Runken hadn’t always been a warrior who relished battle. The beastmen who picked fights indiscriminately had long since been killed off, leaving behind only the more tempered survivors.

As a beastman, Runken had inherited heightened senses of smell and hearing. He had once led his kin as a mercenary, making great use of those traits. But his inability to overcome his naturally poor peripheral vision had ultimately led him to be discarded as expendable on the battlefield.

Scattered and hunted like beasts, Runken had only survived because Tyrkanzyaka had come to collect the bodies. She had given him her blood, turning him into an Elder. In her name, he had trampled the very army that had killed him and the forces that had abandoned him.

But even after all that, a thirst remained deep in his heart.

His keen senses had dulled, leaving him able to perceive only the scent of blood. The dry wind that once ruffled his fur was gone. He no longer needed to grind his itching tusks against trees. At first, he had thought it a relief—one less nuisance to deal with. But as he eliminated all the inconveniences necessary for survival, all that remained was emptiness.

The more sensitive one was, the greater the void left behind. Runken had fallen into despair.

The only time he felt his blood stir again was in battle—when blood splattered across the battlefield, whether his own or his opponent’s. The reason was simple: on a purely physical level, his blood was being forced to flow where he had not willed it.

Runken threw himself into endless battle.

“I even tried to be considerate of weak little humans and gave a warning, but I suppose he never passed it on! Haha! So it was meant to be a challenge all along! That’s right! Of course, the King of Humans is just another beast—!”

With another forceful snort, Runken charged at Tyrkanzyaka again. This time, she made no attempt to defend herself. She merely raised her arms to shield her head, allowing herself to be battered. Like a reed caught in a storm, she was ravaged by Runken’s relentless strikes.

As mentioned before, vampires had a bad habit. They always believed time was on their side. Even if they weren’t as extreme as the ascetic Dogo, they had an undeniable tendency to observe their opponent’s methods before committing to a response. Was it because they were immortal and didn’t fear death? Or was it because they found amusement in experiencing new things?

The Elders, watching the fight between Runken and Tyrkanzyaka, realized too late what was happening.

“…Runken. That’s enough. Stop there.”@@novelbin@@

“Enough—? Hah! And why should I?!”

Runken scoffed and lunged at the Progenitor once more. His sheer ferocity and explosive movements made it difficult for anyone to intervene. If they carelessly interfered, they might end up obstructing Runken rather than helping.