20. The Demise of Golden Chief

The perfected Tempest Strikes erupted from my fists, each blow a symphony of destruction powered by the five chambers of the First Realm energy. Celestial essence crackled across my knuckles, shattering flesh, bone, and viscera with every impact.

"Yes! More!"

Golden Chief roared with savage delight, its form shrinking as its essence condensed into a vortex of scarlet malevolence. The demonic energy swelled, enveloping a radius of over ten feet.

It was a maelstrom of annihilation, designed to consume all life. Golden Chief had held back this spell, unwilling to harm its offspring, but now it unleashed its full fury.

The crimson mist hung heavy in the air, a suffocating shroud that extinguished all but the most resilient lifeforms. Only those who had transcended, who could wield the essence of the universe, stood a chance of resisting its corrosive touch.

In this swirling tempest of death, the battle became a desperate struggle of attrition. Each of us drew upon our deepest reserves of power, knowing that survival hinged on who possessed the greater well of strength.

The moment I drew my blade, Golden Chief had noticed the potent aura of First Realm energy. A flicker of surprise crossed its mind, quickly replaced by a dismissive sneer. Given my young age, it didn't believe I could amass enough energy to rival its century-long accumulation.

To its astonishment, I unleashed a flurry of blows, each a thunderous strike that sent shockwaves through its massive frame. Yet, my momentum remained unwavering.

My breath came in a steady rhythm. The ethereal white mist surrounding my form seemed fragile against the onslaught of crimson demonic energy. But for every wisp that dissipated, another emerged, replenished by an inexhaustible wellspring of power.

Golden Chief's confidence faltered, its pupils narrowing as the grim truth dawned. It had gravely misjudged its opponent.

"You..." it managed, a note of disbelief creeping into its voice. But the words died in its throat as my fist, a blur of motion, pierced through its golden fur with ease. The once formidable beast was now a hollow shell, its essence withered and consumed by the relentless onslaught.

"Mercy!" The plea, a pathetic rasp from the once-mighty Golden Chief, was met with cold indifference.

I withdrew my hand from the wreckage of its internal organs, the warmth of its lifeblood still on my skin. Reclaiming my blade from its bone seam, I delivered a swift, decisive stroke. The Golden Chief's reign of terror ended with a final, silent exhale.

[Jackalvamp (early stage of First Realm): Total lifespan 575 years, 180 years remaining - absorbed]

The crimson mist suddenly convulsed, losing its malevolent cohesion. It swirled and writhed, a dying serpent dissipating into the air.

The huddled villagers, their eyes filled with the dullness of despair, suddenly stirred for the first time. A flicker of hope, a spark of anticipation, ignited in their cloudy gazes.

They saw a young man walking out of the fog, putting his knife back into its sheath with his long and powerful fingers.

My hair was tousled, my breath slightly labored, but my eyes held a newfound intensity.

Behind me, the towering figure of the Golden Chief, now reduced to a skeletal husk wrapped in withered fur, collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut.

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…

On the narrow road winding from Pinewood County to Tukwila, Wade gripped the wheel of the pickup truck, his knuckles white with a growing sense of dread.

He had been forced to leave the police cruiser behind; no one dared defy the sheriff's strict orders. After hastily settling his sister at home, he'd decided to investigate the situation alone, taking the same truck he'd used to transport the three jackalvamps' remains.

The old pickup groaned and sputtered. Frustration gnawed at Wade as he pressed the gas pedal to the floor, urging the vehicle to go faster.

As he approached, a coppery tang filled the air, the unmistakable scent of blood growing stronger with each passing mile. Wade's face paled, his grip tightening on the hilt of his dagger. His worst fears seemed to be confirmed.

Panic clawed at his heart, conjuring images of carnage and death. He gritted his teeth, a surge of adrenaline pushing him onwards. He had to know what had transpired in the village, no matter how horrifying the truth might be.

After a tense drive, the first signs of Tukwila emerged—wisps of smoke rising from the village.

Two villagers, their faces etched with a mixture of exhaustion and relief, crested a hill and spotted Wade. They managed awkward, strained smiles.

Wade's lips twitched in an attempt to return the gesture, but the corners wouldn't lift. His eyes were drawn to the grotesque burden the villagers carried: a thick, hairy leg, its fur matted with drying blood. It was clear that the owner of the limb had been dead just recently.

"The officer said we could eat whatever we wanted," one villager explained, swallowing his saliva. "If we couldn't finish it, he said he'll take it away on a pickup."

Wade fell completely silent.

Officer? Who else could it be? In all of Pinewood County, who else but Sergeant Kane would dare to venture here now?

But what had happened? The scene he'd dreaded was nowhere to be found.

Nodding silently, Wade hurried past the villagers, confusion in his eyes.

Soon, a familiar figure emerged in the distance. I sat serenely on a field ridge, surrounded by seven or eight curious children, their small hands gingerly touching my sheathed blade.

There was no sign of the carnage Wade had anticipated. Instead, dozens of villagers were methodically fishing vampire corpses from the muddy fields. Occasionally, they would pull out an arm or a leg, and smiles would appear on their faces.

Bloody and serene, the contrasting scenes intertwined into a surreal tableau before Wade's stunned gaze.

He approached me, his voice mixed with anxiety and anticipation. "Where are the jackalvamps?"

I looked up, a knowing amusement on my face. I’d expected him to come in the pickup, and he didn't disappoint me. "They've been dealt with," I replied calmly.

A sense of déjà vu washed over Wade. I had responded in the same manner when he asked about the apevamps earlier.

He gestured towards the blood-soaked mud, a wave of nausea rising in his throat as the stench of death filled his nostrils. "You call this... dealt with?"

This was Golden Chief's territory. To see me here, amidst the slaughtered vamps, could only mean one of two things: either the Golden Chief had fled, or it had met its end here.

As preposterous as the latter seemed, it was far more plausible than the former.

A mere two or three days ago, I had been a corrupt officer, a stain on the badge. Now, I had single-handedly destroyed an entire clan of vampires. Wade couldn't help but feel a grudging admiration for my endurance and patience.

"Just load the bodies. It's time to go back."

Wade eagerly came all the way to do the hard work for free, so why not take advantage of him?

I stretched out my hand, and the small children obediently wiped the fingerprints off the scabbard with their clothes. Then, they put it back in my palm, grinning with missing teeth: "Goodbye, sir. Please take care."

I straddled my dagger, stood up slowly, and put away the panel in front of me.

[Remaining absorbed lifespan: six hundred and seventy-two years]

The tally of absorbed lifespan was now a staggering sum, thanks to the twelve elite jackalvamps and the substantial contribution of Golden Chief itself.

But the true treasure wasn't just the extended lifespan. It was an unexpected discovery within the Golden Chief's ravaged body - an egg-sized organ, tougher than any other, pulsating with a primal energy even as its host perished.

This organ resonated with the very essence I had yearned for since ascending to the First Realm. I carefully extracted it, wrapping it in a linen cloth for further study.

My first encounter with a First Realm opponent had been enlightening. While the elite jackal monsters, despite their longevity and regenerative abilities, were ultimately no match for me, Golden Chief was a different breed entirely.

Its overwhelming scarlet energy was a force of nature, capable of disintegrating flesh and bone on contact. Yet, for all its terrifying power, it too was merely a fledgling in the vast landscape of the First Realm.

This revelation was both humbling and exhilarating. It underscored the immense potential that lay ahead, a path paved with both peril and promise.