Urban Seduction: Housewives Club

The sudden attack and hidden enemies did not concern Eric.

With a somewhat "go with the flow" mentality, he quickly put these "accidents" behind him. After dealing with several captives, he took Skidmore to Château Chambord to continue their unfinished "power struggle"!

Château Chambord has a very distinctive appearance.

In addition to the circular pointed roofs of the castle, you can also see many exquisitely carved small chimney roofs, all emitting smoke from the heating furnaces.

From afar, the entire castle looks like a big cake adorned with candles, giving people a fairy-tale-like feeling.

Plus the backdrop of white snow, yellow leaves, and red maple, it instantly creates a scene full of fantasy, immersing anyone who longs for romance.

However, today this dreamlike fairy-tale place seems a bit strange.

Whether it's because of the unusually cold weather or the particularly oppressive atmosphere, Château Chambord in the mountain forest is unusually quiet, not even a sound of insects can be heard.

Entering the unguarded castle gate, you can see more than a hundred elegantly dressed "people" standing quietly on the lawn in front of Château Chambord.

The leaders of this group are three, with the foremost being the current controller of Château Chambord, the famous vampire aristocrat in France—the Marquis Marshall.

As the two approached, Marshall, expressionless, greeted Skidmore, "Hello, my godson, Count Skidmore."

The Marshall family has been serving the Skidmore family for nearly a thousand years. Their past relationship can be said to be mutually beneficial, so the former steward, Marquis Marshall, was qualified to be Skidmore's "godfather".

Marshall addressed Skidmore as "Count".

There is no hint of disdain.

In the vampire social system, any promotion of noble titles must be evaluated by the Council of Thirteen Clans.

Because once the noble title is raised, the resources allocated will also increase, which is not just a change in title!

Although Skidmore already has the strength of a grand duke, his registered title in the Council of Thirteen Clans is still the "Count" from three hundred years ago.

Not only him, but all the vampires under Eric who have been promoted have not applied for a strength evaluation in Europe. They are a group of "lost" individuals who have been expelled by the council and their families.

In their hearts, they are not concerned about the noble status of the "vampire" anymore. The so-called "title" and "resources" are far less important to them than the affirmation from their master.

In the vampire society, there is not only a strict hierarchy but also an absolute "difference between superior and inferior"!

The so-called "difference between superior and inferior" means that lower vampires have no resistance in the "force field" of higher vampires. Their blood abilities will be completely suppressed, and they will have no means of attack or defense.

Originally, according to Skidmore's current strength, once he opened his force field, the Marquis Marshall, who was only a count, would immediately "be defeated".

However, in order to revenge comfortably, to vent the accumulated frustration of three hundred years, Skidmore deliberately suppressed his strength to the count level, seemingly wanting to compete fairly with Marshall.

Eric did not stop his servant's "treacherous" behavior, but watched with a mentality of enjoying the show.

"Hehe..."

A deep laughter sounded. With the permission of his master, Skidmore slowly walked forward, looking coldly at Marshall and said, "It's been over three hundred years. I didn't expect you to still be so hypocritical..."

Marshall raised his eyebrows, standing still without moving. He still had a gentle smile on his face, "My godson, what reason has brought you back from exile to the beautiful Château Chambord?"

"I came to visit my 'godfather'."

Skidmore emphasized with a smile, "And 'take back' the 'management' of your family's estate that you've been 'managing' for three hundred years!"

"What did you say?" Marshall was taken aback, his face full of false surprise.

"I said, I am very grateful for your maintenance of Château Chambord for three hundred years, but now, it's time to return the property to its original owner!" Skidmore's voice was as cold as ice, and there was a fleeting sharpness in his eyes.

Marshall chuckled. Looking up, what he saw was a pair of bone-chilling blood-red eyes.

He felt a jump in his heart.

Without any reason, a sense of fear arose in him. He could no longer speak false polite words and said coldly, "Although I don't know how you managed to advance to the level of a Marquis, but just based on this, do you dare to come back and 'seize power'? Where does your confidence come from?"

After speaking, he glanced at Eric intentionally or unintentionally.

Eric, who had been smiling silently, gave Marshall a feeling of unfathomableness, which made him feel empty and somewhat inexplicably flustered.

However, his current mood was much better than before he saw Eric and the others!

Because before this, he had always thought that Skidmore's backer was a duke, but now it seems that the young man who came to Château Chambord with Skidmore is definitely not a member of the vampire clan, which naturally reassured him.

The slight contempt on Marshall's face towards Eric made Skidmore both angry and amused. After a cold snort, he said deeply, "Confidence is not something you talk about, but something you do..."

"Well then, my dear godson, show me what you can do..."

As soon as Marshall's words fell, a change occurred.

Behind him, a black slender sword rose flat from the ground, disappearing five or six meters in an instant, fiercely stabbing towards Skidmore's eyes.

"Infiltrator!"

The sudden appearance of the black weapon and the erupting dark power made Skidmore's eyebrows slightly furrow, "Shadow Clan..."

Eric was also surprised, his pupils shrinking into tiny dots, staring closely at the figure shrouded in a layer of black mist.

The Shadow Clan, like the vampire clan, is a mutated species.

They are born with the ability to blend into their environment like a chameleon.

After systematic training, the infiltrators are even more powerful, synonymous with the top assassins in Europe.

There seemed to be a blazing flame burning in Skidmore's eyes.

He dodged the assault of the black sword with a simple sideways movement, and at the same time, flicked his left hand backwards.

With a crisp sound, the assaulting black slender sword was deflected off course by his finger force.

It was only when the black sword grazed Skidmore's face that the piercing screech it caused by tearing through the air entered his ears.

The speed of this sword was actually faster than the sound!

Just like ripples in water, it only slightly stirred up a few visible ripples in the air, and the infiltrators hiding in the shadow mist disappeared mysteriously, completely invisible to Marshall and his men.

Of course, this "complete invisibility" did not deceive Eric.

However, Eric's face was still full of admiration, and he became interested in this peculiar ability that did not belong to spatial magic.

Skidmore's movements froze. With his strength, he could naturally find the infiltrator, but he just wanted to wait for him to come to him!

Suddenly, in the shadow cast by a tall conifer on the ground, a sharp black slender sword suddenly appeared, silently and ruthlessly stabbing towards the back of Skidmore's head.

The black sword penetrated the target without any hindrance.

However, strangely, the hand holding the sword also penetrated Skidmore's head.

Everyone understood at this moment that the infiltrator had only hit an illusion.

The infiltrator, who missed his strike, secretly exclaimed in dismay. He was about to retract his sword, but his neck was firmly grabbed by a big hand.

The infiltrator tried hard to turn his head to see the person who had deceived him with the illusion, but he couldn't because his neck had been broken since he fell into Skidmore's hands.

Watching the rapidly dimming light in the infiltrator's eyes, Eric shook his head with regret. It was a pity about such a good experimental subject...

Marshall's face was very ugly. Due to a certain rule, he could not personally kill Skidmore, so he wanted to use the infiltrator. Moreover, he had always been confident in the infiltrator, believing that even if he couldn't kill Skidmore, he would still cause him considerable damage.

But who knew, the infiltrator not only failed to achieve his goal, but also died so quickly!

Caught off guard, he was unable to rescue him and could only watch as his ally was strangled to death before his eyes.

"Well, well, well, Skidmore. Since that's the case, then let me personally fulfill the duties of the 'godfather'. I will teach you a good lesson..."

In Marshall's mind, Skidmore's strength was only comparable to his own; he absolutely did not believe that he would lose to his opponent due to terrain or people.

After Marshall lunged forward, another vampire beside him seemed to be prompted and also flew up into the air, with two long fangs growing from his mouth. He viciously aimed for Eric's neck to bite.

Not only this Count-level peak vampire, but also the viscounts and barons rushed up.

Although they couldn't attack Skidmore, who had a "Count" level force field, the handsome and "harmless" Eric became their target for torture and slaughter.

Eric understood that these vampires were deliberately making such a big fuss in order to unsettle Skidmore, affect his performance on the spot, and help their leader, Count Marshall.

With a slight smile, Eric casually cast a "Fire Blade Spell" at the Count.

Although he was now a true pre-heaven master, he had also mastered the supreme skill of the Rantuo Temple, the "Flame Blade".

But after four hundred years of habit, he still prioritized using magical means when facing enemies.

The Count-level vampire who flew towards him was taken aback.

Although he had already anticipated that the person following Skidmore would not be simple, he did not expect the opponent in front of him to have such a "powerful" attack power.

He dodged somewhat awkwardly. The hem of his gorgeous medieval nobleman's outfit was inevitably charred by the fire.

The enraged Count joined forces with the viscounts and barons behind him, and together they rushed madly towards Eric.

Unperturbed, Eric waved his hand and unleashed the almost forbidden wind-type ultimate magic, the "Tornado Blade".

In the past, if Eric wanted to cast such a powerful magic on Earth, he would have to spend about ten minutes gathering magical power.

But now it was different. Having feasted on the "Earth Evil Yin," Eric had restored his full magical reserves to their peak. Even though the magical elements on Earth were quite sparse, his own magical power alone was enough to cast a dozen or so spells of this caliber in one breath.

With unparalleled precision in magical control, Eric surrounded all the vampires rushing towards him with the Tornado Blade. The vampires inside the tornado blade found it difficult to move, screaming incessantly.

Within the range affected by the Tornado Blade, it had become a bloody hell. One vampire after another was dismembered by the wind blade, and the body parts were repeatedly cut, leaving no trace behind, directly turning into a mist of blood that floated in the air, making this small world appear blood-red.

Watching the hellish scene in front of him, Eric inexplicably felt a sense of pleasure in his heart, and a desire for slaughter filled with ferocity and madness surged up, eager to rush forward and ruthlessly harvest lives...

Eric frowned slightly. He knew that he had experienced some changes and his nature had changed slightly.

However, this kind of change did not have any actual drawbacks, but was gradually transforming the attitude he had maintained for four hundred years without him realizing it.

He thought that this might be the return of his "nature" after he "returned home," or it might be because he had absorbed too much "Earth Evil Yin," which had influenced his mind with dark power...

Marshall, who was single-mindedly trying to defeat Skidmore, had no spare energy to notice anything else. Like Skidmore and Lucien, he belonged to the first major vampire clan, BRUJAH.

This BRUJAH clan was also the most suitable for combat among the vampire clans. Although they also knew some dark magic and vampire secrets, most of the time, they preferred hand-to-hand combat like werewolves.

Marshall drew a perfect arc with his right hand, aiming straight for Skidmore's neck, while the trajectory of his left claw attack ended at Skidmore's seemingly unguarded chest.

Just as he was about to succeed, he suddenly saw a "sinister" smile on Skidmore's face. His heart tightened suddenly, instinctively wanting to retract his hand, but he was astonished to find that his hands were firmly held by the other party, as if cast from bronze and iron, and he couldn't break free even after exerting several times the force.

"You..." Marshall couldn't believe it. "You can actually suppress my strength?"

Skidmore gave a cold smile, exerting force in his hand, and the violent blood energy surged into Marshall's body, instantly shattering his wrist bones.

Although vampires had powerful regenerative abilities, injuries like this were almost impossible to heal.

In other words, Marshall was basically a useless person from now on. Even if he wanted to cut meat with a knife and fork, he would probably be powerless...