Chapter 222: Chapter 222 1 vs 6

Liam turned toward Ann, about to ask for the coordinates Ella had sent—but something stopped him.

A chill crawled up his spine.

His eyes narrowed, and he slowly pivoted back toward the forest.

There.

From within the swirling fire, through the thick smoke and glowing embers, he came.

Boris.

He walked calmly, like the flames were nothing more than a light breeze. The fire curled around his figure but didn’t consume him. No, it burned his clothes away instead—revealing something underneath. Something ancient.

Beside him walked five men, all of them tall, silent, and perfectly in sync. They, too, were untouched by the inferno, the fire stripping away their tattered black clothes to unveil dark, crimson-tinged armor beneath. The metal gleamed in the firelight, shaped to their forms like a second skin. It resembled ancient Roman or Gothic knight armor—shoulder plates, chest guards, greaves—but leaner, more modern, and somehow more terrifying. Not bulky. Streamlined. Made for killing.

And across each chestplate, Liam caught it—a faint flash of red—like blood pulsing beneath the steel.

The aura that came off all six of them was suffocating. It wasn’t just strength—it was intent. Deadly, merciless intent.

Liam’s jaw clenched.

He took one sharp breath, then turned quickly to Lana and Ann.

“Step back,” he said, voice low, steady.

They didn’t question it. They felt it too. Lana’s body tensed, her hands still faintly glowing from her last attack, and Ann grabbed her arm as they took a few steps back behind Liam, eyes wide with dread.

The flames curled around Boris as he walked until finally, he emerged fully into view. He stopped, his boots crunching softly over the blackened earth, just beyond the piles of ash left from the slaughtered vampires.

He looked around, taking in the battlefield. His eyes gleamed crimson in the glow of the fire, cold and calculating.

Then—he clapped.

Slow. Sarcastic. Each clap echoed like gunfire in the silence.

“Well done,” he said. His voice was smooth, eerily calm. “One hundred and twelve vampires. Gone. Just like that.”

He turned his head slightly and pointed a pale finger at Liam. “You… surprise me.”

He gestured next to Liam, toward Lana. “And her. You two tore through them like they were paper.”

Liam didn’t speak. He simply stared, unblinking.

Boris walked forward a few more steps, glancing down at the piles of ash with mild amusement. “Don’t worry. They were trash. Hired thugs. Bottom feeders. You did me a favor.” He chuckled. “Now I don’t have to pay them.”

Ann’s lip curled in disgust. Lana’s fists clenched.

Boris tilted his head, his red eyes focusing now behind Liam, directly at the girls. “That said… perhaps we can still come to an agreement.”

He raised his chin. “Bring the girls over. The both of them. Do that, and maybe I’ll let you live, Liam.”

Lana’s eyes widened, fury blooming in her chest, but before she could respond—

A sound broke the tension.

A chuckle.

Not from Ann.

Not from Boris.

From Liam.

It started low. A quiet laugh that built slowly, like a storm rising.

He lifted his head, a smile spreading across his face. It wasn’t humor—it was mockery.

“Is that it?” Liam said with a smirk, eyes locked on Boris. “Are you done with your bullshit?”

The clapping stopped.

Boris’s smirk faded. His crimson eyes sharpened. His guards tensed behind him, their armored hands inching toward their weapons.

Liam took a step forward, tilting his head slightly. The firelight danced across his face, making the blood on his cheek glisten like war paint.

“You walk out of the fire like a drama queen with five armored goons,” Liam said. “You make some threats, offer a coward’s deal… and I’m supposed to be impressed?”

Boris didn’t answer. His gaze narrowed.

“You’re trying to make an entrance,” Liam continued, casually wiping a smudge of ash from his knuckles. “You think this is some kind of stage show? What—did you run away earlier just to change into something more intimidating?”

The five armored guards shifted, but Boris raised one hand, stopping them.

Liam chuckled again.

“You seriously ran from a fight just to change clothes and come back with backup? I thought you’d be a real challenge.”

His voice dropped lower, and the smile disappeared.

“This? This is disappointing.”

Boris’s face finally changed. His expression hardened. The smug confidence vanished, replaced by something colder. Sharper. He wasn’t used to being mocked. Especially not when his aura alone made lesser men piss themselves.

And yet… Liam wasn’t flinching. He wasn’t sweating. He wasn’t even blinking. He stood there after taking on over a hundred vampires, his wounds were already healed up—and laughed in Boris’s face.

Lana stared at Liam’s back, her mouth slightly parted. Ann, too, was speechless. The pressure in the air was suffocating. It felt like they were standing under a mountain—and Liam was casually holding it up with one hand.

He hadn’t just resisted Boris’s intimidation.

He’d mocked it.

Whatever Boris thought he was walking into, it wasn’t this.

For the first time since he stepped out of the fire, Boris said nothing.

Liam stepped forward again, planting his foot beside a pile of ash, his tone ice-cold now.

“So. What now, Boris? Are we done playing dress-up?”

Boris let the tension stretch for a moment longer. Then, without a word, he turned slightly—his cold red eyes glancing at one of the five armored guards beside him.

He gave a small nod.

The chosen guard stepped forward, his movements eerily smooth. There was a hint of eagerness in the way he cracked his knuckles. He didn’t speak. He didn’t draw a weapon. He just disappeared.

In the blink of an eye.

The sudden blur of motion caused Ann to gasp. Lana’s eyes widened as the armored vampire reappeared directly in front of Liam—so fast that it seemed like he teleported. One moment he was ten meters away, the next he was within striking distance.

Liam flinched, surprised by the speed—but he wasn’t caught off guard.

With a smooth motion, Liam shifted to the side and twisted around, grabbing the vampire’s throat mid-lunge. His grip locked tight like a vice as his momentum carried forward—then he slammed the guard into the ground so hard the road cracked beneath them.

Concrete and gravel exploded outward from the impact.

But the vampire didn’t grunt or wince. He lay there for a second, looking up at Liam with an eerie smile. The armour shimmered slightly as if absorbing the force of the impact, leaving the vampire unscathed.

Then—bam—the vampire’s armored leg shot upward with terrifying speed, aiming a brutal kick at Liam’s ribs.

But Liam didn’t flinch.

He raised his arm, absorbing the impact with a solid block. The sheer force made his muscles vibrate, but he didn’t budge.

Instead, he tightened his grip again around the vampire’s neck, lifting him effortlessly off the ground—one-handed.

With a savage roar, Liam drove his fist into the vampire’s chest, sending him flying backwards like a missile.

The vampire crashed into a burning tree. The flames exploded on impact, scattering embers and thick smoke through the air, briefly obscuring everything.

Ann covered her mouth, eyes wide. “Did he—did he kill him?”

Liam narrowed his eyes.

The smoke cleared.

But the vampire was gone.

Liam’s instincts screamed.

He pivoted sharply—just in time to dodge as a thin red line sliced through the air behind him.

It passed inches from his back—and cleanly sliced the SUV behind him in half.

A deafening metallic screech filled the air as the car split open. The cut was perfect—like a blade had been drawn by a master swordsman in midair.

Liam’s breath caught.

He looked at the vampire now standing casually near the wreckage, red light glowing from the tips of his fingers.

That red line… came from his hand.

A thin trail of crimson energy flickered around his fingers before fading out.

Liam knew right then—if that had touched his skin, it wouldn’t have just cut. It would have sliced through flesh and bone like air.

He immediately stepped back, putting distance between them.

Boris saw it. So did the other guards.

They exchanged glances.

“He’s backing off now,” one of them said quietly.

Boris’s lip curled with amusement. “Of course. Even rats know when fire gets too close.”

The vampire in armor stepped forward again, rolling his shoulders. “Scared already?” he asked Liam, his voice smug and arrogant. “That was just a taste.”

But Liam didn’t respond.

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t speak.

His eyes were locked on the armored vampire, calculating. Reading his stance. Waiting.

He exhaled slowly, and then—he moved.

Without a word, Liam bent low and lunged toward the bisected SUV. His hands gripped the jagged metal base of the front half—and he lifted it.

The ground cracked beneath his feet as he hoisted it above his head.

Ann gasped audibly. “He’s lifting a damn car—!”

Lana’s lips parted in shock as well. The muscles in Liam’s arms flexed under the strain, but he made it look like lifting a coffee table.

He threw it.

With a roar, Liam hurled the front half of the SUV straight at the vampire.

It flew like a projectile, smashing through the air.

The vampire blinked in surprise and barely had time to leap out of the way. He dodged left, the vehicle crashing into the ground behind him and flipping twice before exploding in a ball of fire.

But what the vampire didn’t know—

Was that Liam was right behind it.

He’d followed the thrown wreckage like a hunter stalking prey, using it as cover. The moment the vampire moved out of the way, Liam exploded from behind the burning metal, arm outstretched—

[Feather Shards]

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