My Goblin System : Levelling up with my SSS Class Devouring skill-Chapter 328

She went straight at the three hunters who’d formed a defensive line, her blades flashing in attacks that were committed beyond any reasonable margin of safety. Each strike was all-in, risking everything, betting her life that speed and aggression would overcome defensive positioning.

One hunter’s guard dropped slightly—just muscle fatigue from holding his blade in high defensive position, literally a fraction of a second of weakness. Sylvara’s training had taught her to recognize and exploit exactly these moments. Her blade was through his eye and into his brain before his guard could recover, the Cardiac toxin on her blade irrelevant because he was dead before it could even enter his bloodstream.

Six remaining.

But she’d taken another hit in exchange for that kill. One of the other defensive line hunters had scored his sword across her ribs, a shallow cut that nonetheless hurt like fire and was bleeding freely. The wound wouldn’t kill her quickly, but blood loss would become a factor if this continued.

Another hunter fell to her poisoned blade in his chest—dead within seconds as the Cardiac toxin stopped his heart. But she took a spear thrust to her left thigh in exchange, a crippling wound that made her stumble and nearly fall.

Five remaining, but Sylvara was in bad shape now. Multiple wounds bleeding, left arm barely functional from the shoulder injury, left leg compromised from the spear thrust. She was running on pure will and the muscle memory of techniques practiced ten thousand times.

The five surviving hunters saw victory ahead. Their leader was dying from neurotoxin but had managed to gasp out final orders before collapsing: "Contain... surround... she’s weakening... wait for... collapse..."

They formed a careful perimeter, not rushing in for the kill, just waiting for blood loss and injury to do their work for them. Professional approach—let the wounded enemy defeat themselves rather than risk casualties trying to finish them.

But they’d made one critical mistake: they’d assumed Sylvara would fight to survive rather than fight to accomplish her mission.

She wasn’t here to survive. She was here to keep these hunters away from Satou’s fight with Richard. As long as she was occupying their attention, drawing their focus, forcing them to deal with her, they weren’t interfering with the main battle. That was her purpose. Everything else—survival, escape, even her own life—was secondary to that mission objective.

So she charged again, weaponless now because all her blades were embedded in corpses or lost during the fighting, but not defenseless. Years of training had included techniques for killing without weapons.

She grabbed one hunter’s sword arm as he swung at her, used perfect leverage to break his wrist with a sickening crack, caught his falling sword out of the air, and drove it through his chest in one continuous motion. The technique was brutal, efficient, opportunistic.

Four remaining.

But the effort had cost her. Another sword had cut deep into her side, cracking ribs and potentially damaging internal organs. Her vision was swimming from blood loss and pain. She was operating on pure training and will now, her body screaming that it couldn’t continue, her mind overriding every survival instinct to force her muscles to keep moving.

Three hunters circled her carefully, watching for openings. The fourth—the one whose wrist she’d broken—was down and screaming, eliminated from combat.

Three against one, and Sylvara was barely standing. They’d won. They just needed to wait for her collapse.

Then a red shadow appeared behind one hunter, and Cassius’s fangs found the man’s throat. The vampire had finished his own battle and come to assist, his blood-covered appearance suggesting his fight had been equally brutal.

Three remaining, then in an instance cassius uses blood magic to instantly kill the remaining three minions.

"Took you long enough," Sylvara gasped, swaying on her feet.

"Had my own problems," Cassius replied, catching her before she fell. "Can you still fight?"

"Can I stand?" Sylvara asked, the question rhetorical because she was clearly barely maintaining vertical.

"Barely," Cassius assessed honestly.

"Then yes," she forced out, determined to see this through. "I can still fight."

"No you cant , let’s leave the rest to Lord Satou , i believe he will handle Richard " Said Cassius.

Sylvara knew what Cassius was saying its the truth but she wanted to be of my help to Lord Satou but she knew her going there in this injured state will make things worse for Lord Satou , so she pray for Lord Satou Victory against Richard Clay.

—-------

[Meanwhile Cassius Battle Before Meeting up with Sylvara]

The moment Cassius’s ten opponents identified him, they moved with practiced coordination that made his situation immediately clear: these weren’t random guards. They were specialists.

"The vampire spy!" one shouted. "Everyone get ready for battle!"

They spread out instantly, and Cassius saw the problem. Blessed silver weapons gleamed even in the dim library light. Holy water vials hung from every belt. Wooden stakes were positioned for quick draws. They’d been briefed, prepared, and equipped specifically for killing vampires.

The lead hunter—a scarred veteran whose confident stance suggested he’d done this before—gestured to his team. "Maintain distance. Don’t let him close. Kill zones overlap. Standard vampire elimination protocol."

Cassius didn’t waste breath on bravado. He simply unleashed his full power.

Blood magic erupted from him in crimson waves, his rapier becoming wreathed in supernatural energy. His eyes blazed scarlet. When he moved, it was with the blinding speed that made vampires deadly.

His opening strike took the nearest hunter through the heart before the man could raise his blessed sword. A blood spear—conjured and hardened in a split-second—impaled another through the chest, punching through armor like parchment. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

Eight remaining.

Holy water flew from three directions simultaneously. Cassius twisted, dodged two volleys, but the third caught him across the face and shoulder. His skin sizzled where the blessed liquid touched, pain flaring white-hot.

He powered through it, blood magic already working to heal the burns.

A hunter rushed in during his momentary blindness, blessed silver sword aimed at his heart. Cassius heard the approach, twisted at the last instant. The blade missed his heart but carved deep into his shoulder, blessed metal burning like molten iron.