No matter what was happening on Natasha's end, worrying about it now wouldn't help — he couldn't even get there in time to help. Once that thought surfaced, Lucian pushed aside all distractions and focused his entire mind on the summoning ritual, Prince Dracula, and the Silver Moon.
Since the pressure and terror of a peak Legendary powerhouse were completely blocked by the Observer's Castle's fully activated defensive formations, Lucian felt not the slightest hint of strain or interference. There was no need to force himself to concentrate; once his wandering thoughts were dispelled and his gaze rose to take in the residual silver moonlight clinging to the castle's blazing lights, his soul naturally reconnected with that inexplicable link.
"I can still feel the Silver Moon. The power this summoning array draws upon isn't particularly strong, but in terms of its nature and level, it's not far below Dracula's own. And it seems to bear a trace of the Silver Moon Goddess Eterna's mark!" Lucian made his judgment swiftly.
Enormous bat wings blotted out the sky. Prince Dracula glared with fury at the insect inside the castle, then suddenly dissolved into dense darkness that enveloped the surrounding space, severing the castle's connection to the Silver Moon.
Though the defensive formations prevented him from peering through the insect's disguise, at such close range — and through the bond shared among the first generation of vampires — he could confirm it wasn't Rhein. That left him feeling both good and bad: good, because Rhein was clearly in serious trouble, or he would never have sent some insect to perform the Ancestor's summoning ritual, meaning Dracula had nothing to worry about regarding the consequences of destroying the Observer's Castle; bad, because a mere insect had the audacity to scheme against him and summon the sacred and supreme Silver Moon Goddess?
"A filthy soul presumes to form a connection with the Ancestor?" Prince Dracula's deep crimson pupils regarded Lucian coldly — only to find the young man utterly unaffected. Lucian stood with both hands raised, eyes half-closed, his arcane robes fluttering in the wind, his monocle reflecting a faint glow, while a string of profound ancient vampire incantation flowed from his lips, weaving together into ethereal spell-words.
"He can still perform the summoning even after the connection to the Silver Moon was severed?"
This mysterious ritual, the incantation that was almost impossible to make out, and the strange soul imprint — all of it belonged to Rhein alone. Dracula had infiltrated the castle numerous times but had never been able to uncover the secret, nor had he managed to communicate directly with the sacred Ancestor, so he knew nothing of the specifics. And now, to see that even an insect was closer to the Silver Moon Goddess than he was — an uncontrollable surge of rage erupted within him. Even if he himself couldn't form a connection with the Silver Moon, surely he knew more than this!
Dracula tilted his head back and let out a silent scream of fury. Within a radius of over a dozen kilometers, everything without exception crumbled into dust in an instant — everything except the Observer's Castle and the cliff it stood upon, which remained sheltered inside a sphere of light.
Even that complexly structured barrier of light fractured layer by layer beneath the scream, shuddering violently as though it could collapse at any moment.
Yet despite the impossibly dangerous situation unfolding outside, because Lucian couldn't directly perceive the soul-crushing pressure or the terrifying power, it was as though he were watching a movie with spectacular special effects. His mind remained perfectly calm, undisturbed by so much as a ripple. He continued to follow that mysterious feeling, chanting the incantation with focused devotion.
A faint glimmer of silver moonlight suddenly appeared beneath Lucian's feet, quickly coalescing back into a luminous, silvery-white circle.
"He can still maintain the connection? An insect can summon the Ancestor?"
Without a sound, the darkness enveloping the surroundings transformed into a sky-blotting swarm of bats. Each one was the size of a human head, their narrow mouths gleaming with blood-red light. They blanketed every surface and descended upon the barrier of light. The barrier dimmed at a rate visible to the naked eye, as though the energy sustaining the defensive formations was being siphoned away by some unknown force. And in response, every time a bizarre bat was destroyed, a new one materialized from the darkness.
Prince Dracula's terror was truly beyond imagination — he could drain energy as easily as drawing blood!
"…From the call of blood, we beseech the return of the ancient era. Let the deepest, darkest void be pierced by the Silver Moon…" Lucian shut his eyes entirely. He didn't look at the teetering barrier that seemed on the verge of collapse at any second. He continued the mysterious incantation, sinking into that ethereal, wondrous state of elevated soul-consciousness.
The barrier dimmed to its limit but held with stubborn tenacity, refusing to shatter. Prince Dracula, seemingly disrupted by the mysterious incantation and its link to the Silver Moon, grew slightly impatient — a temperament utterly unlike his usual calculated patience. The sky-covering swarm of enormous bats surged upward, converging and merging into a single crimson maw vast enough to devour the entire castle.
The mouth opened wide. Two pristine vampire fangs, shimmering with lunar radiance, bit down savagely upon the faded barrier.
Crack — a sound as though echoing from the deepest recesses of the soul, and the barrier dissolved into nothing.
"Defensive formations severely compromised. Lowering defense output…"
The alchemical life-form Mikhail's muffled voice had barely spoken when the second layer of defense was pierced straight through by the vampire fangs!
At that moment, Lucian felt a strange sense of looking down from above. He was inside the castle, being attacked from above by Prince Dracula — and yet he somehow felt as though he had risen to an unknowable height, regarding Dracula with detached calm. He could even see a host of bizarre, indistinct, indescribable shadowy visions stretching out in every direction, encompassing every possible outcome.
The sky-devouring crimson maw vanished, replaced by churning darkness from which a massive pale hand emerged, its nails gleaming with razor-sharp light, reaching downward.
Damn insect — I'll see exactly who you are!
The Observer's Castle, which Lucian had estimated could hold out for several minutes, had lasted less than thirty seconds against a peak Legendary's terrifying power.
The energy shockwave from the shattered barrier subsided, and Dracula was about to see the insect below.
But just then, he saw a small silver moon ignite behind the insect's back. Its slender yet radiant glow enveloped the creature completely, cutting off all prying eyes.
The miniature silver moon grew larger and larger, as though the true Silver Moon itself had descended directly into the castle.
And at that very moment, high above in the sky, the Silver Moon — just moments ago so radiant and beautiful, hanging at its most brilliant — had vanished with eerie suddenness. Only sparse stars remained to illuminate the night, barely enough to keep the darkness from becoming absolute.