Legendary Vampire in the Apocalypse
Chapter 19: The Blood of a Beast

Chapter 19: The Blood of a Beast

The Gnoll, a beast far too entertained by their weakness, had not given him the grace of being killed quickly.

How much worse could it get, for an enemy to snicker so evilly, picking you all off one by one without them having been able to retaliate?

They were all his friends, god damnit!

That was why Bobby cheered.

Even with his legs crushed, and a cut through his gut where the Gnoll had slashed its claws through him, he cheered through a blood-slobbering mouth, for the bloody survivor that they had not listened to, and how he regretted not listening.

His shame for not speaking up had been buried by that burning vengeance.

’Fuck! This hurts! It all hurts!’

The gnoll’s club crashed against Dion’s sword, and the impact, this time, threw him against the wall.

He felt his forearm bone fractured at the impact, and deep within himself he cursed whoever led him to believe that vampires recovered quickly.

The slash wound from its claws across his ribs was still bleeding, and burning agony into him; he could feel another fracture in his shin from when he had to take a harsh hit, and how his forearm had fractured.

Dion was far from keeping up with the thing.

It was faster than him, stronger than him, and intelligent enough to make use of those capabilities.

He tore his body in one direction, rolling back towards the area where his blood had spilled on the floor the largest.

His palm had opened in his rise, and blood flowed up swiftly from the ground to rise into his hand to form another blood sword; however, this time, unlike earlier, it was rather makeshift, without as much mana in it as the last one.

At the rate that he was going, he would lose, and it was only a matter of time before that.

The Gnoll, chasing after him, the moonlight shimmering over its figure, swung as he rose, the cuts that he had left across its club somewhat deep by now, and with such relief, the core in its gut bleeding constantly.

"I can only lose so much blood until we both die, motherfucker!"

Dion didn’t use the sword to block; this time he just dodged backwards.

Within that same moment, he had put his Essence Saturation plus into his Agility, so his movements were much faster than they had been moments before as the rush of his body strengthening filled him.

Dion had earned himself several moments thanks to the increased speed, and he had been especially waiting for this, when the gnoll’s shock at the sudden change rendered it into a pause for another few moments.

In that time, as he landed, Dion had outstretched his other free hand.

He had brought the gnoll right towards where it had made him spill the most blood.

The blood, suddenly flooded with his mana, rose with an extremely brisk pace, taking form and shooting forth.

Dozens of pikes were formed from the blood, and they all skewered through the form of the gnoll.

"Aargh!" At that moment, suddenly Dion had whipped his body forward into a throw.

The gnoll was smart enough; he had been scared that if he immediately changed his weapon, it would think that something was changing and perhaps be more wary.

Thus, he had at first made a sword, and now, as he threw, that sword was hurtled through the air, and he let it take along with it some more supplementing blood as it dissolved from the form of a sword.

The Gnoll began to thrash and roar in pain and desperation, trying to break itself out.

However, it had been too late by then.

The flying swords transformed into a spear that took all of his remaining mana to toughen it, as well as to increase the speed with which it flew through the air.

Within moments, Dion suffered that debilitating, sharp pain in his head, his vision spinning.

At the same time, his spear impaled through the creature’s head, throwing its neck backwards.

In the moments thereafter, its head lolled forward, and it died.

{You have felled a level 16 Destitute Gnoll, harvesting its essences. Your Strength, Agility, Mana, and Endurance have been nourished significantly.}

{Your Strength has been enriched to E++}

{Your Mana has been enriched to G+}

Thereupon, as he collapsed to his knees, Dion’s vision was swimming. His senses were raging with pain, and especially his sense of smell was firing.

He hadn’t been able to hear what the chronicle had said to him, or see the small pop-ups in the corner of his vision.

His sense of smell excavated through the fog of the disgusting stench of zombie blood, and he could smell something delectable, something so desirable beneath that.

His vision was tinted and pulsing with red, and his heart hammered, with something in his chest burning so painfully.

That itching, bone-deep hunger had assaulted him, and it enflamed his desire such that all inhibitions were draining rapidly from his body.

His head snapped towards the direction of the best-smelling scent, and it had been one of the guys from the group, still alive, and watching him.

Dion had wobbled to rise.

’Blood... I need blood!’ These thoughts came as he felt his canines rapidly grow within his mouth.

The individual’s legs were shattered, and blood was pouring out of him, pooling beneath his form. Such a waste it was!

Possessed by that primal desire, even staggering, his body bleeding itself, as the fractures of his bones grated against each other within him, Dion hunted, driven by vampiric bloodlust.

Within seconds, he had brought himself to loom over the person, and he noticed then, distantly in the back of his mind, that he was still awake.

Regardless of that, he had grabbed him by the throat and pulled him from the ground.

"Vam...p"

Coughs of delicious blood came from the person’s throat, as he had seen Dion’s canines.

And thereupon, perhaps out of gratitude at him having killed the monster that killed his friends, Bobby resigned himself to it, closing his eyes.

It was fair enough that the person who could have saved them would end his misery.

Suddenly Dion dropped him, and his body tore, racing for the Gnoll.

He dug his arm into its torso, and out came purplish blood that he began to slurp down in cupped hands.

However, that wasn’t enough!

It was far from enough!

He jumped, rising to its neck, his maw wide, and he clamped down harshly, devouring the blood from its body.

Meanwhile, the person he had dropped had been far too weak to do anything.

They had been in the space right where the Gnoll had broken through the wall; the moon was watching them directly by now.

And by the time that he had pulled for some desire to look at the source of those muffled sounds, the corpse of the gnoll had fallen to the ground, so emaciated that its flesh was plastered to bone, and Dion stood before the moon with its heart clutch in his hands and raised high, blood waterfalling to feed himself.