The chase resumed once more.
Hounded by the unicorn and nightmare, the Lord of Darkness fled for its life yet again. But whether from its earlier wounds or sheer exhaustion, its speed had slowed considerably. Still, with its erratic, unpredictable ability, it managed to slip through the sisters' encirclement time and again. Even so, the Lord of Darkness grew increasingly fatigued, no longer exuding the ferocity it had shown earlier.
Blake, riding atop the nightmare, kept his eyes fixed intently on the dim figure ahead. When the Lord of Darkness's movements slowed once more, he put his fingers to his lips and let out a clear, melodious whistle.
At the sound of Blake's whistle, Messiah, who had been keeping pace on the other side, suddenly raised her parasol. Her expression turned grave, her lips pressed tightly together. In an instant, brilliant white light erupted from the elegant parasol, swirling across its surface with immense power. With a sharp cry, Messiah gripped the parasol firmly and thrust it forward.
"BOOM!!"
A deafening roar tore through the howling wind, lashing rain, and pitch-black night as a brilliant white beam shot straight toward the Lord of Darkness. Weary from its desperate flight, the creature had no time to react before the beam struck it head-on.
With a dull thud, the ground beneath the Lord of Darkness exploded upward. The shadowy creature stumbled, then was sent hurtling into the air by the force of the impact.
"Semira!"
At that moment, the nightmare at Blake's side tensed its muscles, then leaped high into the air—transforming into a streak of crimson lightning, streaking toward the shadowy figure suspended in mid-air.
Deprived of any foothold, the Lord of Darkness was clearly thrown into a panic. Perhaps it had never experienced the sensation of being weightless before, but judging by its current state, it was certainly not enjoying it.
But this was hardly a concern for Blake. The nightmare soared nimbly through the sky, closing in on the airborne Lord of Darkness. Blake tensed his body once more, and as the nightmare darted past the Lord of Darkness, he leaped from the saddle, landing firmly on the creature's back.
"——!"
Sensing someone mounting it, the Lord of Darkness let out a roar of rage. It twisted its body mid-air, somehow managing to land steadily on the ground. But Blake clung tightly to its mane, channeling a steady stream of his soul power into its body—even though this would partially restore the Lord of Darkness's depleted strength, it would also force the creature to take on a more corporeal form, robbing it of its ability to use those strange, evasive skills.
Blake had only been speculating, but events soon proved him right. The moment it realized Blake was on its back, the Lord of Darkness attempted to use its ability immediately after landing. A faint mist emanated from its body, as if it were about to vanish. But the soul power Blake was pouring into it anchored the creature firmly to the physical world.
Meanwhile, the sisters had halted their pursuit, watching the scene unfold with curious, excited expressions from atop their mounts. As for the unicorn and nightmare, they cast a glance of pity and mockery toward the shadowy creature—their gaze clearly saying: Welcome to the team, new companion.
Seeing that its pursuers had stopped chasing, the Lord of Darkness abandoned any attempt to flee, its attention now focused entirely on shaking off the annoying rider clinging to its back. With its special ability rendered useless, it resorted to the most primitive method of resistance: brute force.
But such struggles were child's play to Blake. As the Lord of Darkness thrashed wildly, he tightened his grip on its mane, pressing his legs firmly against its body to anchor himself in place. What's more, he could anticipate the creature's every move based on its body language, adjusting his own position to completely neutralize the impact of its struggles.
Stripped of its protective special ability, the Lord of Darkness was now a toothless tiger. Compounded by the massive amount of energy it had expended during the chase and the fact that its wound from the earlier battle with Blake had not yet healed, the creature soon began to slow, its movements growing sluggish and exhausted after a few more desperate leaps failed to dislodge its rider. Even so, Blake did not let his guard down. As a seasoned Knight, he knew all too well how stubborn wild beasts could be when it came to submitting to a master—especially spectral creatures like this one. When Messiah had tamed her unicorn, its final, desperate outburst had destroyed half a mountain. When Semira had tamed her nightmare, it had reduced an entire town to rubble. Compared to those two, this strange creature might be weakened now, but Blake would never believe it would go down without one last, explosive struggle.
Sure enough, after one final, futile attempt to shake Blake off, the Lord of Darkness let out a mournful cry, a mixture of anger and sorrow. It suddenly stopped moving, gasping for breath heavily, but remained completely still.
Everything seemed eerily calm—as if the battle was already won. But Blake's nerves were stretched taut as a bowstring. Instead of loosening his grip, he clung even tighter to the creature's body. The sisters, too, wore solemn expressions, unconsciously stepping back a few paces.
"——!"
Then, the Lord of Darkness suddenly raised its head and let out a long, piercing cry.
Following that roar, a bone-chilling gale erupted outward from the creature, sweeping in all directions. Even Blake felt a sudden coldness seep into his bones; his body, protected by his defensive aura a moment ago, now felt completely exposed. A deep, penetrating frost gnawed at his flesh, and he could feel his hands and feet going numb, as if they had been severed the instant the gale had struck.
It wasn't just Blake. The ground around the Lord of Darkness was instantly covered in a layer of ice and frost, and the raindrops swirling in the wind froze into sharp shards of ice mid-air.
Soul attribute attack!
Blake's heart skipped a beat. He knew all too well how terrifying this kind of attack was—it ignored all physical defenses, striking directly at a target's soul. This was especially dangerous for those who relied on soul-based abilities like defensive auras for protection. The very essence of soul abilities was drawing upon the power of one's own soul. But this creature's attack targeted the soul directly, making Blake's defensive aura not a shield, but a deadly liability.
To be honest, Blake had never anticipated that this strange creature would possess such a rare and formidable ability. If Ophelia's shadow attribute— the bane of mages—was a one-in-a-hundred-thousand occurrence, then a soul attribute attack was even more uncommon. In all his time in this world, Blake had only ever seen one creature with such a power: an ancient astral dragon.
Faced with the Lord of Darkness's desperate counterattack, Blake's expression changed drastically, and the sisters scrambled back, narrowly avoiding the soul attribute attack.
"Brother!"
"Father!!"
As the sisters called out to Blake in alarm, he let out a low shout. A faint halo of light erupted from his body, spreading outward in all directions.
"Bang!"
The moment the halo expanded, the soul attack unleashed by the Lord of Darkness was instantly suppressed, and the bone-chilling cold vanished without a trace. With that, the Lord of Darkness finally gave up all resistance. It shook its head in annoyance, then stood motionless on the ground. Even when Blake jumped down from its back, the creature made no attempt to flee or resist.
"Brother!"
"Father!"
Seeing Blake dismount, the two girls rushed over to him anxiously. Blake, still shaken by the close call, shook his numb hands and feet.
"That was too close. I almost bit the dust there."
Blake had accounted for many variables, but he truly hadn't expected the creature to possess such a rare attack attribute. If Ophelia's shadow attribute was a one-in-a-hundred-thousand rarity, then a soul attack attribute was a one-in-ten-million occurrence. Who would have thought such a power would be found in a lowly spectral creature like this?
Fortunately, Blake happened to possess the power to counter it; otherwise, he would have been a cold corpse by now. Even if Messiah or Semira had been in his place, they would have been gravely injured at the very least.
After marveling at his good fortune to have survived the ordeal, Blake turned back to face the Lord of Darkness. This time, the creature raised its head, fixing him with a complex gaze. It could already feel that its soul had been branded with Blake's mark—this strange being was now its master.
"Gotta say, that was exhausting… but the payoff is worth it."
Staring at the Lord of Darkness before him, Blake let out a sigh of satisfaction. He didn't waste any more words, however. From the dim, almost translucent state of the creature's body, it was clear that it had expended all of its strength. Drawing the jet-black sword at his waist, Blake pointed it at the Lord of Darkness.
"From this day forth, you are my mount."
Blake's voice was firm and resolute. As he spoke, a soft, warm light began to emanate from the pitch-black blade. Sensing this light, the Lord of Darkness gazed at the sword, then lowered its head deeply in submission.
"You will be the most loyal companion in my soul, now and forever. From this day on, your name shall be—"
"——!"
At these words, the Lord of Darkness knelt down, letting out a low whinny. A faint glow flickered across its body, then it vanished into thin air without a trace.
Blake held up his sword, his eyes fixed on the pitch-black blade. A faint soul pattern glowed faintly on its surface, shimmering with a soft light. Staring at the pattern, Blake shrugged his shoulders, then sheathed his sword and turned back to the sisters standing a short distance behind him.
"All done. Let's head back."
With that, Blake declared the mission a success.
In fact, by the time Blake and the others quietly returned to their rooms at the inn, the old steward had no idea that his young master and the two young ladies had snuck out and spent half the night out in the storm. Exhausted from their ordeal, the three of them fell into a deep sleep shortly after returning to their rooms.
It was not until noon the next day that they finally rose leisurely. The torrential rain showed no signs of stopping; in fact, as the rain intensified, more and more people gathered in the town—merchants and weary travelers alike, huddled around the inn's fireplace, cursing the wretched weather and praying for it to clear up soon. The old steward was no exception, though his anxiety ran even deeper than the others'.
"Master, this rain is likely to last another two or three days. I'm afraid we're going to run into some trouble…"
It was no wonder the steward was so anxious. In normal circumstances, he would have been content to wait it out, but losing a third of their cargo had left him on edge. What's more, the next trading post was still a long distance away, and the steward dared not risk using the "dash between storms" tactic again—not after his previous failure had shattered his confidence.
Although the steward had ordered his men to do everything possible to keep the medicinal herbs dry, he knew that human efforts had their limits. Against such a relentless downpour, it was nearly impossible to preserve the herbs completely—especially since some of them had already gotten wet. If it were sunny, they could have taken time along the way to dry the herbs out, but the unceasing rain had dashed that last hope. Thus, the steward had no choice but to report the situation to Blake, even though he hated to be the bearer of bad news. It was simply his duty.
"In that case, we'll wait a few more days," Blake replied, not the least bit surprised by the steward's report. The old steward sighed resignedly—this was exactly what he had expected. But Blake's next words made the steward's heart skip a beat.
"However, we have no intention of staying here much longer."
"Master?"
The steward stared at the young man in confusion, unsure of what he meant.
"I think you know, Steward, that overseeing this caravan is merely a side errand for me," Blake said, shifting his posture and smiling faintly at the steward's perplexed gaze. While this weather was the worst possible scenario for the steward, it was perfect for Blake. The howling wind and driving rain would conceal their movements, allowing them to cross the border between Orlt and Wester safely and undetected. If they waited for the weather to clear up like the steward wanted, things would become far more complicated. Thus, after learning from the steward that the rain would last another two or three days, Blake had made up his mind—he would not wait around any longer. He would seize this opportunity to proceed with his true objective.
"As a matter of fact, I have more pressing matters to attend to, so I won't be staying here much longer. I'll leave the caravan in your capable hands. I'm leaving."
"But… in this pouring rain, you…"
The steward had not forgotten that Blake had only joined the caravan as a casual passenger, but he had never imagined that the young noble would choose to set off in such terrible weather. It was truly astonishing. He couldn't fathom what urgent business would drive the young master to venture out in such a violent storm. Why couldn't he just wait for the rain to stop?
"When do you plan to leave?"
The steward wisely refrained from asking any further questions. As an experienced merchant, he knew better than to meddle in the affairs of his superiors.
"I'll depart tomorrow morning," Blake replied promptly, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch of gold coins.
"This should cover all the caravan's expenses while we're here. Once the rain stops, you can continue on your journey without worrying about me. If anyone asks, tell them I've already returned home. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master."
The steward took the gold coins with both hands, responding quickly. He hesitated for a moment, then asked, "May I inquire about the two young ladies…?"
"They're coming with me. You don't need to concern yourself with them."
"Understood."
Hearing this, the steward knew his role in the matter was over. He bowed slightly to Blake, then turned and exited the room, closing the door quietly behind him.