Garry growled in frustration as he tried to give chase, but Barseagle threw himself in front of him again. The golden mask binding Garry's face was already beginning to crack, but before he could rip it off completely, Barseagle struck out, his weakened body moving with sheer determination rather than strength.
Garry sneered, blocking the blow with ease before countering. His fist slammed into Barseagle's ribs, sending him crashing into the rubble. Blood spurted from Barseagle's mouth, but he still pushed himself up, staggering to his feet. His hands trembled, and his vision blurred. 'Hehe... Does this fool think he could go against me? He's really a legend though, he deserves his reputation.'
'I can't let him go after Ian. I need to keep him here—no matter what it takes.'
His thoughts raced as he assessed his options. His body was at its limit; even standing felt like torture. He had already depleted nearly all his energy, and at this rate, he wouldn't last another minute.
'If I keep trying to fight, I'll just get torn apart. But if I can take him down with me...'
A grim realization made Barseagle despair. The only way to ensure Ian's escape was to take drastic measures. He recalled the blood root within his body—the last card he possessed. If he forced it to implode, the resulting explosion would cause massive damage.
'It won't kill him, but it'll slow him down. That's enough.'
Barseagle took a deep breath, his resolve solidifying. He had already decided. If his life could buy Ian and the others enough time to get away, it was worth it.
With the last of his strength, he lunged at Garry, locking his arms around him in a vice grip but Garry far outsized him. In the end, golden chains extended on his hands with the ability to elongate which wrapped Garry completely.
Garry grunted in irritation, attempting to pry him off, but Barseagle endured.
"You damn fool, what are you doing?" Garry snarled.
Barseagle grinned, blood staining his teeth. "Making sure... you stay here."
He closed his eyes and focused inward. The energy within him began to surge violently. His veins pulsed with golden light, his body trembling as the root inside him reached critical mass.
Garry's expression shifted from annoyance to shock. "Wait—"
A deafening explosion ripped through the battlefield. A blinding golden light engulfed the area, followed by a shockwave that sent debris flying in all directions. The air shook due to the residual energy as the ground trembled beneath the sheer force of a true vampire's explosion. After all, Barseagle wasn't an ordinary true vampire to begin with.
Ian's massive frame moved swiftly through the darkened streets, his arms full of unconscious bodies. Despite his size, his movements were swift. He had no time to grieve—not yet. First, he had to ensure the survival of the three on his shoulder.
The towering skyline of Savanna City soon came into view. Its neon-lit streets and gothic architecture in contrast to the bloodshed he had just left behind. He continued his pace with a sigh, heading toward his destination—Ceiling Burg, the top hospital in the city known for treating even the most grievous injuries.
As he approached the hospital's grand entrance, the vampires inside immediately noticed his presence. Conversations stopped, and all eyes turned toward him. Gasps of shock rippled through the lobby.
"Is that... a Lesser Vampire or a True Vampire???" one of the onlookers whispered, his expression puzzled.
"His blood aura says so, but he's gigantic!" another murmured. "Maybe a true vampire?" One of them said with uncertainty.
Ian ignored their stares and marched forward, his expression unreadable. Doctors and nurses hesitated, uncertain whether to intervene or flee.
"I need treatment for them. Now." His deep voice spread through the hall, snapping the medical staff out of their daze.
The head doctor stepped forward, gulping as he took in the sight of Ian's imposing figure. "R-right this way..."
Ian followed, his mind still replaying Barseagle's final moments.
'Captain, I won't let your sacrifice be in vain.'
Inside Ceiling Burg, the scent of antiseptic assaulted Ian's nose. White lights beamed down from the high ceilings, illuminating the pristine hallways and sterile floors. Ian carefully laid down the unconscious bodies of Daniel, Kate, and Liz on the nearest available medical beds. Their skin which was pale and smooth before, had been riddled with deep burns, some wounds still smoldering with residual heat.
The doctors immediately sprang into action. One of them, a sharp-eyed man in a white coat, leaned in to inspect Liz's arm, his gloved fingers carefully prodding the edges of a charred wound. His brows furrowed. "Third-degree burns... but there's something odd. The tissue damage isn't spreading. Normally, burns this severe lead to necrosis, but their regeneration seems intact."
A younger doctor beside him adjusted his glasses and tapped on his tablet. "That suggests an unnatural heat source. This wasn't caused by an ordinary flame."
"Obviously," the first doctor muttered before turning to a nurse. "Prep cooling gels and mana-infused salves. We need to stabilize their flesh before their natural healing kicks in improperly. If the tissue regenerates while charred, it could lead to malformed scars or internal damage."
The nurse nodded, hurrying to retrieve the necessary materials. Another doctor peeled away a section of Daniel's tattered uniform, revealing a deep burn across his chest. He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "This one's worse. The heat penetrated down to the muscle layer. If we don't neutralize the lingering energy, it'll continue eating away at his tissues."
"I'll apply a cryo-seal to suppress further damage," a doctor with auburn hair said, already pulling out a small vial filled with shimmering blue liquid. "This should cool the area and prevent internal overheating."
As the doctors worked, the nurses began directing their attention to Ian. A woman with short, dark hair and sharp eyes approached him. Despite Ian's intimidating size, she stood her ground, clipboard in hand. "We need details to tailor their treatment properly. What kind of opponent did this to them?"
Ian's red eyes flickered. "A higher-ranked werewolf called Garry. His flames are... How to say it? Blue in color? And uhmm... With lingering heat that keeps eating away at the flesh even after the initial burn."
"That Garry!? The Walking Flare, the Wielder of Nether Flames!???"
The nurses exchanged glances. One of them, a male nurse with a stern expression, muttered, "A combustion-type ability, then. That explains the delayed tissue breakdown." He jotted notes on his tablet. "Were there any other injuries besides burns? Internal damage? Fractures?"
'Combustion? I'm not sure about that.' Ian inwardly thought.
Ian shook his head. "None that I saw. The flames were the biggest threat."
The dark-haired nurse narrowed her eyes slightly. "And you? You carried them all here, but I see no major burns on you. How did you resist Garry's infamous nether blue flames?"
Ian remained silent for a moment before answering, "My armor."
The nurse's gaze flickered to his exoskeleton, her eyes tracing the intricate red veins that ran across the surface. The other nurses had also taken notice.
"His armor... it's completely intact?"
"Not even a scorch mark... Garry's Flames, even among his ranks, could be considered extraordinary, right?"
"A material resistant to high-ranked werewolf flames? That's not unheard of but they're hard to procure."
Ian ignored their murmurs. Right now, the only thing that mattered was ensuring the others were stabilized.
The head doctor, who had been overseeing the treatment, finally turned to Ian. "They'll make it. Their bodies are durable, but their recovery will take time. We'll need to monitor them closely over the next few days."
Ian gave a slight nod, his clenched fists finally loosening. He turned his gaze to Daniel, Kate, and Liz. They were safe. For now.
'Fortunately, It's not too late.'