Lichtenstein Castle, second floor, within the bedroom.
Princess Alexia sat on the edge of the bed. Her lifeless eyes reflected endless despair, like a little bird trapped in a cage, waiting only for death.
Hearing faint noises from the lower levels, she immediately knew—the vampire count had arrived.
Soon enough, the count would slaughter everyone in the chapel below, and then come to the second floor to find her.
And yet—
Her gaze turned to the window. Through the ornate carved frame, she saw that the sky was… brightening!
Alexia moved. Slowly, she walked toward the window, her hand pressing gently against the cold glass.
On the glass faintly appeared her haggard, bewildered face. Yet even on the second floor, she could feel the warmth flooding upward from the chapel—the light spilling through every stained glass pane, radiating with a force that seemed enough to illuminate the entire courtyard, even the surrounding forests!
The night sky burned with mystery, as if this night itself were aflame with a gentle fire.
“This light… it’s actually… it’s like a real sun…”Her voice was weak yet unwavering, like a prayer whispered to a savior who might exist only in dreams.
“Is this… your power?”
Emotion surged across Alexia’s face, no longer hidden.
For the first time, she began to doubt—
Maybe every word Lan Qi had spoken… had never been a lie.
Though common sense told the world that no sun could ever rise at midnight—
Her instincts, her very blood and bones, told her otherwise. This radiance… perhaps it truly did have the power to overwhelm the Blood Moon.
Meanwhile, in the present world—at the Jera Memorial Plaza of Ikerite Academy.
At the center stood the giant open-air screen.
That radiance washed over the night, painting the world with a luminous, glass-like glow.
The vast white screen became the heart of the campus. Every pair of eyes was drawn to it, every voice silenced, as if the whole crowd could only stare at the dazzling brilliance.
Students sat on the wide stone steps of the plaza, warm drinks in hand, eyes fixed unwaveringly on the glowing screen.
Their gazes shone with awe, with shock, with confusion—and with exhilaration!
They all recognized the card Lan Qi had played. It was the very same orange epic-grade magic card he had completed during the Registration Cardmaster Exam—[Radiant Virtue]. A card capable of summoning a miniature sun, blinding all targets within its light. In enclosed spaces, its brilliance would intensify; in the open, it would gradually weaken.
But not one of them had ever believed it could feel like the true sun!
Yet the agonized screams of Count Palocas served as the most undeniable proof.
[Radiant Virtue] was not only effective against vampires—it was devastatingly so!
“Why—why does his [Radiant Virtue] carry the power of the actual sun?!”
At last, a student broke the silence, disbelief written all over his face.
Even if Lan Qi had given it the form and attributes of a sun… at best, it should have been a false one.
Unless—the material used to forge this card had some essential connection to the real sun!
“Could it be… that unnamed Light-element stone really came from the sun? But… how could Lan Qi have recognized it?”
So many mysteries, too many to untangle. Yet in their hearts, a long-lost feeling had returned. Familiar excitement—it was back!
The challengers had once again sounded the horn of counterattack!
“Principal Lan Qi! Teach that vampire count a lesson!”
“Let the bloodsuckers witness the wrath of humanity!”
Thunderous cheers and battle cries erupted like a tidal wave across Jera Memorial Plaza.
Back inside Lichtenstein Castle, within the chapel now transformed into a radiant hall of glass and light—
“I come from humanity. And for humanity, I shall give my all.”
Lan Qi murmured softly, as though he could hear the distant voices of the Ikerite Academy students cheering for him.
Across the banquet table, bathed in searing brilliance—
The body of Count Palocas was bleached silver-white. His already pale skin thinned to paper, veins visible beneath, as though his flesh would shatter with the lightest touch.
“Take this—my fist!”
The Executioner stomped across the chapel’s stone floor. Every step was like a hammer striking the Count’s heart. Raising his massive battle-axe, he swung with such force it seemed to split the very air.
The instant the axe fell, the Count, eyes burning with pain, could barely lift his arms in defense—driven purely by survival instinct.
A thunderous crash erupted, sparks spraying like molten fire! By sheer seventh-rank physical strength, he managed to block the blow. Yet his body reeled like a boat in a raging storm, staggering back several steps.
“Despicable humans!!!”
The Count roared in disbelief and fury.
Was this so-called “fist” nothing more than a coward’s axe-strike?! These shameless warriors were exploiting his blindness!
His sleeves were shredded. Two deep wounds slashed across his forearms, his hands trembling with stinging pain.
“Take my blade as well, Count.”
Before he could recover, a solemn, upright voice rang out from behind.
The Paladin had appeared on the opposite side of the light. His silver armor gleamed gold beneath the radiance of the false sun, a sacred longsword in his hands glowing as though it could illuminate the world.
Each step of his charge pounded like drumbeats into the Count’s chest.
The hiss of the blade’s tip scraping the floor grew louder, heavier, pressing down like an ocean wave threatening to drown him in darkness.
And then—without warning, the Paladin discarded his sword altogether. With a sudden rush, his two hands struck fiercely at the Count’s temples. The crushing blow left the Count reeling, nearly collapsing into unconsciousness.
From the shadows, the male bodyguard lurked like a phantom. The dagger in his hands gleamed with a cold, deathly light.
The Count, dizzy and disoriented, had no time to recover before a chill of death surged toward him.
Before he could even guess the next attack, the bodyguard raised his dagger with both hands and smashed it downward toward his skull!
“Pierce the crown!”
From afar, the Poet of Great Love sang out in her bright, cheerful voice, adding lyrical accompaniment to each strike.
She nearly danced with joy, waving her slender arms like a cheerleader behind the banquet tables, cheering on her frontline comrades.
“You damn succubus—!!! Don’t let me catch you!!!”
The Count’s bones warped under the barrage of underhanded blows, his fury clawing for release but finding no escape. His flesh could no longer resist the blades—blood boiled forth like scalding water!