Chapter 190 Click Click
The cloud-like curtain shook violently, as if a tornado was wrapped in white silk gauze, approaching Horn rapidly.

Horn stepped back with his right foot, holding the scabbard in one hand and the hilt in the other, raised the Blood Cloud, and blocked it in front of him the moment the brass claw reached out.

The claws made of brass and iron bars hit the scabbard, making a crisp buzzing sound.

But Horn is different now. In the past few months, he has been through many battles and seen a lot. After a moment of panic, he calmed down.

Loosening the scabbard, he directly pulled out the Blood Cloud and kicked the humanoid creature with his foot.

The bald "vampire" reacted quickly. He dropped the scabbard and quickly dodged sideways, narrowly avoiding the blood cloud that was glowing red.

Although it was not hit by the blood-covered cloud, it still covered the place that was just illuminated by the red light and retreated repeatedly.

Tiny blood spots were emerging on his skin, and the expression on the humanoid creature's face immediately became confused and doubtful. He stroked the blood spots and stood there hesitating.

But Horn would not tell him to stop at a certain point, nor would he talk about martial ethics with such an evil demon: "Goat, come together and catch him."

"Drink!"

Before Horn could finish his words, Pasrick came out from behind the curtain, holding a hard salted fish, and jumped high from the stage.

First, there was a flash of light in his hand, and the monster let out a shrill scream in the flash, and Pasrick smashed the humanoid monster's forehead heavily with the salted fish.

The humanoid creature was knocked backwards, but after rolling twice, he stood up dazed, only to have his nose cut off during the rolling.

There was no time to capture it, so Pasrick stepped forward and swept it to the ground with a kick, then punched it three times hard on the temple and pressed its neck with his knee.

Standing not far from Pasrick, Horn could clearly hear the sound of the humanoid's ribs being crushed.

After all this, the humanoid creature went into shock. Horn quickly asked people to come forward and tie it up to prevent it from being killed by Pasrick's three punches.

Let's be honest, wizards need to fight like wizards.

When the great wizard Pasrick fought, his spells only had a harassing effect, and he would often pick up his hammer and smash people's heads.

After settling the humanoid creature, Horn stepped forward to take a closer look.

He looked to be in his fifties or sixties. His entire body was bluish white, his ears were pointed, and two fangs protruded from under his lips. He looked just like the vampire in the legendary witcher story.

It was not until he got closer that Horn saw clearly that his nose had been cruelly gouged out, as well as his eyes, so his eyes and nose were made of wood and painted, which made Horn think he was a puppet.

His tongue and both hands were cut off at the root, apparently they were chopped off by someone else. No wonder he needed a pair of brass mechanical claws.

"Is this a vampire?" Horn turned sideways, pointed his index finger at the humanoid creature on the ground, and asked Pasrick.

Pasrick lifted its lips with salted fish: "This is not the fangs of a vampire, just a blood slave."

"Isn't this a vampire?"

“Vampires are often no different from ordinary nobles, except that their skin is a little paler, and their fangs are retractable, while blood slaves cannot.

In the Flesh and Blood Court, blood slaves mostly serve as tax farmers or stewards, helping vampire lords collect taxes and manage their territories. The vampires that the public has in their mind are these blood slaves. "

Pasrick used a salted fish to scratch open his collar, revealing the mark that represented a blood slave:

"Here, the blood slave mark. Generally speaking, blood slaves will not leave their masters too far. There must be another vampire here."

Horn did not listen carefully to the second half of Pasrick's words. He just picked up the blood slave's brass claws and played with them over and over again.

This tiny claw is surprisingly well-made, just like the puppet on the mechanical stage just now.

It is fixed to the arm with belts and iron bars, and the claws are connected by thin filaments of unknown material, which can grasp with the force of muscles.

Horn didn't believe at all that this was done by the blood slave who had no eyes or hands.

"Have you searched the entire palace? Is there anything missing?" Horn asked, placing the brass claw on the workbench beside him.

Victor raised his head and confirmed with the soldiers on the second floor corridor one by one before saying to Horn: "Your Majesty, we have checked everything and found no one. All dangers have been eliminated... um, except for the one just now."

"Master Chrispa, can your badge locate him?" Horn asked helplessly, pointing to the blood slave without a tongue on the ground. "He can't speak, so we can't get anything out of him." "I'm not a wizard who specializes in divination." Pasrick turned the salted fish in his hand. "I'm more familiar with energy spells, natural history, and alchemy. I don't know anything else."

"Okay." Horn walked back to the hall, "Let's go to the spire and take a look."

"Your Majesty, we can't open the iron door of the tower." Following Horn, Victor smiled awkwardly, "Its windows are very high. We just sent people to climb up. Its windows are sealed with iron bars. We don't have the tools and necessary ropes... Your Majesty?"

Victor was halfway through his speech when he noticed that Horn sounded distracted and even turned his body away, as if he was listening to something.

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty?"

"Did you hear any strange sounds? It's that clicking sound, a bit like the sound of a clock." Smiling apologetically at Victor, Horn asked Jeanne and Victor in a low voice.

"No." Jeanne looked puzzled.

Pasrick's face was full of solemnity. He thought for a while before saying, "Horn, based on my experience, I have some guesses about your situation, but please don't be afraid."

"I am the grandson of the Holy Spirit. I am not afraid. Please speak."

"I suspect you are mentally ill." Paslick said seriously, "Let me see you."

Horn was speechless at the time. What a stupid guy. Really a stupid guy.

Not bothering to analyze whether Paslick's words were a joke or the truth, he simply said unhappily, "Okay, okay, I get it."

Pasrick's voice was so low that it was almost inaudible: "The power of a witch can oppress the soul, causing emotional instability and violence. You have the power of five or six witches..."

Ignoring Pasrick's muttering, Horn said to the soldiers around him: "Send some people to survey the surrounding terrain, and then send others to row boats to find some professional tools, and then find a better place nearby to build fortifications.

I suspect the vampire is sleeping in the spire. We can't go in for the time being, so we can only wait for it to come out.

Pasrick, you go to the spire and see if you can't open the gate during the day. Jeanne, you come with us and try to melt the iron bars on the window so you can climb in.

Be careful, and if there is a risk of falling, wait until the tools arrive."

Two people were assigned to go to the spire to study how to raid vampires. Horn sat down at the workbench and tinkered with the parts on it.

Although his knowledge has been refreshed many times by the various wonders of this world, Horn still couldn't help but be shocked when he saw these mechanical theaters.

This exquisite structure does not seem to be a product of this era.

Is it really possible to construct such a theater with human craftsmanship alone?

Maybe, but it would probably take most of one's life to be spent on it. The only purpose of building it was probably to entertain the nobles.

"Click, click, click."

There was a clicking sound in his ears again. Horn frowned, but ignored it and continued to check the parts with his head down.

Many of these parts are hand-made and have clear marks of grinding and filing.

Horn reached out and stroked the rough table surface. In one corner of the workbench, two "concave" iron blocks stood opposite each other. A chain wrapped around a gear connected the hand crank and the iron blocks.

This should be a primitive cutting lathe, and many parts should be on this...

“Click, click, click… click, click…”

"Damn it, Victor, come here, are you sure all the danger is gone?"

"Yes, we dug up the entire palace. Except for the blood slave who was too deceptive, we checked everything else."

"Okay, call a few soldiers and follow me."

Standing up, Horn called a few soldiers for protection and walked towards the source of the sound.

"I want to see what's going on."

(End of this chapter)