They all rushed at me, a chaotic wave of bodies eager to swarm me. I let them come, baiting them closer, then unleashed the Guardian, expanding it outward with a violent pulse that blasted them off their feet, sending some of them crashing into each other with sickening thuds. As they struggled to regain their footing, I went on the offensive, my fists enveloped in the Guardian’s energy, amplifying my punches. Each strike landed with a bone-crunching impact, sending them sprawling across the ground.
The first thing I realized was just how pathetically unskilled they were. They couldn’t track my movements, couldn’t even see my punches coming until they were already tasting blood. These people weren’t even average. They fought like people who had never thrown a punch in their lives. So, why were they even trying to fight me? Did they really think sheer numbers would be enough to bring me down?
But I wasn’t the type to be easily overwhelmed. With the Guardian’s protection, I could fight off attacks from every angle without breaking a sweat. The real problem was… how was I going to escape this mess?
There were just too many of them, a writhing sea of bodies pressing in from all sides, blocking any path I might have taken to get out.
Then, out of nowhere, a tingle ran through my body—a sudden, sharp sensation that cut through the chaos. It was something I hadn’t felt in ages. No, not quite. I had felt it before—whenever my Guardian was at risk of breaking, a warning jolt that alerted me to danger. It always kicked in when I was on the edge of something bad.
Was I in danger?
The Guardian had never failed me before; it was supposed to be the toughest barrier out there, unbreakable. But there were rare moments when even it could be shattered—like when facing power dampeners.
And that’s exactly what happened. The Guardian disintegrated the instant a dagger sliced into it, the protective energy vanishing in a flash. That dagger was a power dampener.
I reactivated the Guardian just in time to keep the mob from swarming me. My eyes darted to the woman holding the dagger, the one who had shattered my defense. In the same moment, she turned on those around her, her dagger flashing in deadly arcs—sending their heads flying, blood spraying in crimson trails. She didn’t give a single thought about her allies; their lives meant nothing to her.
“You’re…” I muttered. She was… Sesillian’s little sister. The one with the mental illness. But I hadn’t realized just how deep her madness went.
“Oh, you recognize me?” she asked, her voice slipping into a twisted, gleeful chuckle. “Of course you do. Of course you do! Because I am the one and only Lady Sara, after all! I am great! I am greatness! Of course! Of course! AHAHAHAHA!”
Her laughter rang out, wild and shrill, like nails scraping across glass. Her voice had that unhinged edge, the kind that made your skin crawl. No, she wasn’t just crazy—she was a full-blown lunatic. There wasn’t a hint of sanity left in those wide, manic eyes. She lived for this—lived for bloodshed, for the thrill of taking lives.
“I like you! And I don’t mean in a sexual way, of course! I’m not into women! I’m not into men either! So, what does that make me, I wonder?!”
I couldn’t make sense of her babbling, but the crazed excitement in her voice was unmistakable.
“Oh, whatever! Anyway, I like to eat! More than anything! Every time I eat something truly delicious, I can’t help but cum! Every time I slice into something with my knife, then cook it afterward, I just have to cum! I especially love beast people’s meat, so sometimes I hunt them for sport, then cook their flesh and savor every bite! The thrill of hunting the meat yourself, oh, it’s the best part! Every time I carve into their flesh, I can’t help but orgasm!”
“You’re insane…” I said, my voice low with disbelief.
She was deranged—absolutely unhinged. The kind of madness that twists reality into something vile. Sure, I’d heard of people from the underworld who ate beast people’s meat, but she took it to a whole other level. How could anyone actually orgasm from slicing through someone’s flesh, only to savor their meat afterward? The very thought sent a shiver down my spine. She was the most twisted soul I’d ever encountered—someone who found pleasure in bloodshed.
“Insane? That’s a word people throw at me all the time,” she said. Her lips twisted into a smile that was both manic and condescending. “I never bothered learning what it means, though. Never got enough education for complicated words like that. But I do understand murderer. Though, that one doesn’t fit me, not really. I’m just doing what I gotta do to survive.”
“And you call killing people and eating them surviving?”
“A carnivore’s gotta do what she’s gotta do,” she replied with a casual shrug, like she was discussing the weather. “It’s part of being a Quinn, after all. Sesillian never really liked eating, though. He’s different like that.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Could it be that the entire Quinn Clan normalized eating people? Or was this just a twisted pastime of Sesillian’s demented little sister?
“I wasn’t planning to spill this, but… I’m a part vampire, you know? Our whole family is! The blood’s so diluted now that we don’t have any of the cool powers, but we still get the same cravings for blood and meat!” she confessed, a wicked grin spreading across her face.
I hadn’t realized that the Quinn house was descended from vampires. In ancient times, vampires were said to be among the most powerful creatures, even rivaling the demon lords. I didn’t know how strong those with diluted vampire blood were, but if they retained even a fraction of that ancient power, they’d still be formidable, especially in raw combat and mana control.
And now, knowing this, I realized just how worst my situation was.
