The vampires, the culprits behind the downfall of the El Empire.
After that catastrophe, a large number of former El Nobility pledged allegiance to the vast alliance of vampires and ogres, offering loyalty to the vampires to extend their limited lifespan.
Only those marginalized royals and local nobility, led by Miseria, escaped to the Eastern Continent.
Therefore, within the Blood and Flesh Royal Court, they never consider themselves vampires, but rather blood elves. And ogres are not ogres, they are called giants.
For religious reasons, the Royal Court wants the territory of the Eastern Continent, while for political reasons, the Empire wants the territory of the Western Continent.
So in the millennium after the shattering of the Blood Race Holy Grail, war has always been the main theme between the two sides.
Due to the Blood and Flesh Royal Court and the Empire repeatedly clashing and pulling back on each other's territories, each side has parts that claim territories and estates within the other's domain.
Thus, within the Empire and the Royal Court, there are always vampire merchants or spies operating in each other's territories.
"So what we are facing could very well be one, or even several vampires?" Horn asked the tall and stout Patrick as they walked along the broken El road.
Patrick scratched behind his ear with a finger: "If that's the case then it's fine, even though it's cloudy, vampires can't use seventy percent of their spells, and I can handle them alone.
The concern is if Scales Hermitage pulls some tricks, we don't understand them, and confronting them carries significant risks."
"It's alright." Horn laughed and patted Patrick's shoulder, "My sister Jeanne is invincible."
"Jeanne still has a long way to go." Patrick said bluntly, "She wants to become a Combat Witch; she'll need more rigorous training."
"Well said, I agree with that, so I'll leave this matter to you." Horn said as he walked ahead swiftly, not waiting for Patrick to refuse.
"Where are we now?" Horn asked Victor beside him, gazing at the forest and the mist ahead.
Victor squinted his eyes, looking into the fog: "According to the previous scout's report, reaching this landmark, we're just half an hour's distance from the Beastman Imperial City."
The long line of people in black walked along the ancient road, even if it's the El Empire's road, after such a long time of use, it's become severely damaged.
Standing on the ground, Horn couldn't tell if the sensation under his feet was discomfort or a massage.
This dirt road is paved with large stones at the base, bonded with rammed earth mud, with gravel forming a fishbone-shaped pattern on the surface, and ceramic shards making drainage pipes on the sides.
But over time, these have been filled with silt, several wilted wildflowers hung their heads in the cold mist, only to be swayed by the wind brought by the soldiers.
After leaving the dock, Horn and this squad of the Expeditionary Army had been walking for nearly two hours, clearing hundreds of undead zombies along the way.
Knowing the weak points of these Long-haired Zombies are their necks and hearts, and coupled with Jeanne's lightning, they quickly cleared out the nearby Long-haired Zombies.
Just like in the rumors, these zombies are similar to paramecium and can only perform the most basic actions.
They each handle a specific area, and as long as outsiders don't step into their area, even if Horn's group passes under their noses, they remain indifferent.
As Horn went deeper, the attacking Beastman Zombies became fewer, which made Horn ponder, are the vampires inside employing some external flexation defensive strategy?
But on second thought, it's unnecessary. Would these Long-haired Zombies rebel?
"Hmm?" Lost in thought, Horn suddenly raised his head and checked around with a frown.
Victor curiously asked, "Your Grace, what's wrong?"
"Did you hear an odd tapping sound?"
"A tapping sound? I haven't heard anything." Victor stood bewildered, "Is someone winding a clock key?"
Horn tilted his ear to listen, but the peculiar ticking sound had vanished.
"Strange..." Horn muttered, "No problem, let's keep moving. Oh, the mist seems to have cleared a bit, and we can see the road ahead."
As it neared noon, the heavy mist had cleared considerably, but under the gloomy sky, the light remained a cold gray hue.
Horn surveyed the area, remnants of abandoned farms and pastures scattered about Autumn Dusk Island.
Treading on a wooden bridge over a stream, Horn caught a glimpse of an arched doorway adorned with inlaid decorations, standing among the sparse forest, while the rest of the estate had crumbled to dust.
The whistle of the scout's bird came from the front, signaling that they could advance.
Having arrived at this point, Horn lifted his head to gaze afar, discerning the silhouette of the city's ruins and the garden palace by the riverbank.
The most striking aspect was the towering spire in the palace, which Horn hadn't clearly seen before; now he realized it was nearly a hundred meters tall.
"Horn, young man, it's about ten minutes away," Patrick estimated the distance and said to Horn, "These soldiers can spread out a bit, form groups of ten to scout nearby, and slowly approach the manor."
"Are you sure the vampires are inside?" Horn questioned.
Patrick pointed to the emblem on his neck: "My emblem is vibrating. It's a mysterious artifact, and there are definitely vampires within five miles."
Under Victor and Jeanne's orders, the soldiers left enough guards behind before scattering to reconnoiter nearby but found no threats.
Having waited for a while, Horn called them back, had lunch, rested for half an hour, and then led the team straight towards the garden palace.
Standing in front of the gate, Horn carefully examined the estate, its high stone walls covered in dark green ivy and vines, through the gaps in the walls, one could see the fallen ivory arch columns.
On the triangular marble pediment of the estate gate, sat a green wooden puppet clown wearing a funny hat, its hollow eyes staring fixedly at Horn and his group.
Its movable jaw opened, and some accompanying soldiers seemed to hear an eerie laugh.
On both sides of the gate stood two large brass roosters painted in mottled yet vibrant colors; their bodies were deep red, wings dotted with white paint, standing on one leg like the guardians of the estate.
Ordering the soldiers to first climb over the estate wall for a scout, confirming no danger, they returned to report.
Directing the Holy Gunmen to form ranks, Horn had Jeanne and Patrick ready, and then beckoned the soldiers behind the door to open the estate gate from inside.
The gate slowly swung open with hesitation.
In the silent air, the clear mechanical clucking sound was disturbingly sharp, causing Horn's scalp to tense up and he immediately looked in its direction, finding it was the large rooster at the entrance.
Its pointed beak opened and closed rhythmically and rigidly, a strange rooster crowing emanating from its chest.
Rudilo hurried forward, kicking the screaming rooster's head off its line, and raised his foot to trample its body.
"Wait." Horn grabbed Rudilo's shoulder, furrowed his brow, and squatted down in front of the large rooster.
Although the rooster had lost its head, it kept emitting its peculiar, shriveled crow.
He looked inside the brass mechanical rooster's neck, observing precise gears meshing, as the chains moved the escapement, consistently striking a hollow sphere, and the crowing came from this sphere.
"Click-clack, click-clack."
Tilting his ear to listen, Horn found the sound surprisingly similar to the odd noise he had just heard.
Standing up, Horn straightened his back, and peered into the doorway; inside the garden palace, the sparse square unraveled like a painting before them.
Nearby, the main palace sat ahead, its tower close at hand.
Amidst the damaged statues and colonnades, the precise massive tower carried an eerie beauty.
"Come on, let's go in and take a look."