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The reason for this comment was the figures emerging from the alleys around him. At a glance, Desmond noticed two things: these people had come here for a reason, and they were strong enough not to be easily stopped.

The first of those two things Desmond noticed from the body language of the group of masked men, they moved with intent and purpose, without the slightest hesitation to be found. Not to mention that they seemed to be aiming directly at his position, their eyes locked on Revna.

The second of those things was much less subtle, these people were simply surrounded by the pressure of well-trained assassins, and the fluctuations of energy they radiated gave them away.

“We are from the Immortal Tiger Sect and have a business to attend to with Miss Revna. We suggest that you withdraw and avoid getting into trouble.” One of the masked men exclaimed as if he thought Desmond care a damn about his threat.

In less than a breath, Revna was lucid again, and a look of purest anger filled her face. These people had interrupted her romantic moment with her loved Master. For her, who harbored no ambitions to be like Claire and the rest, these moments of intimacy alone were more than she could ask for; those people were simply looking for death.

However, Revna was in for a surprise when she felt an immense surge of killing intent. It was like being under the gaze of a primitive beast or feeling the fangs of a wolf around your neck; the stench of death quickly filled the air at your surroundings.

Blinking in confusion, Revna turned to see Desmond smiling calmly. Desmond seemed to calm, almost chuckling, except the white color of his hair and crimson of his eyes gave it away; he was absolutely furious.

Unlike in the past, where Desmond went straight to bloodshed, he actually pass for the trouble of chatting up his attackers, even though it wasn’t what he would do when someone threatened one of his girls. Desmond rarely had patience when it wasn’t just him who was in danger.

.....

“I’m afraid, gentlemen, the lady is with me, and I have very intimate matters to discuss with her. Unless you give me a reasonable excuse, I’m afraid I can’t let her go with you.”

There was a sneer full of provocative sarcasm in Desmond’s voice that contrasted strangely with the calm and almost elegant way in which he carried himself. It was different from usual, but at the same time, similar. Still a predator, just of a different kind, Revna thought about it.

Unfortunately, the masked men weren’t petty villains who went around revealing their evil plans at the slightest provocation. That kind of convenient thing doesn’t happen that often in real life; it still happened though, proving that clichés existed for a good reason.

Desmond watched with interest as his uninvited guests drew swords and daggers; he had really been itching to fight. Not sharing Desmond’s wishes to have fun, Revna commented. “Desmond, there is no need to question them, they are enemies of Fei Long and Xiauyue. They want me because I became close to them.”

Contrary to what Revna had expected, Desmond still didn’t drop his calm yet playful countenance. The sadism that spilled over from his smile seemed less savage than in the past but no less cruel. “In that case, gentlemen, you can’t blame me for what’s about to happen.”

Desmond’s words were barely finished when his figure vanished, appearing as a ghost a moment later behind one of the masked men. Since there was no power gap to speak of, the masked man still managed to slash his sword, trying to get Desmond off his back.

Unfortunately, while there wasn’t a power gap, there was a skill gap. Desmond saw that sword strike coming from a mile away. Desmond deflected the blade with a swipe with the back of his left hand as his right hand shot like a spear at the masked man’s throat. A second later, blood poured out like rain, but Desmond was no longer there.

The other five masked men did not panic but instead tried to gather in formation to resist the threat of this unknown man who had intruded on their plans.

Before they all managed to back off, Desmond caught up with the slowest of them. All it took for him was a double feint using <Phantom Step> to take away any chance for the masked man to defend against the real attack. From the other side, the rest of the masked men watched as Desmond’s hand protruded from their partner’s back, holding his still-beating heart.

Even Revna was stunned by the brutality, it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen an incredibly bloody scene or two, but that was what happened in the heat of battle; it wasn’t like she could afford to go out of her way to leave intact bodies behind. However, what Desmond was doing was simple cruelty towards his enemies.

Hidden from Revna, there was a rather twisted smile on Desmond’s blood-spattered face, one that he quickly receded. Looking at the stiff corpse still hanging from his hand, Desmond frowned. Desmond was thirsty, and those hidden urges in his blood were bothering him again.

“It’s the price of power, I suppose,” Desmond muttered. Desmond wasn’t entirely wrong with that statement. Lilith’s blood had given him a lot of power, opened a new path ahead of him, and covered his weak points. Yet, all of that came with a price.

Not wanting to think about the matter any further, Desmond tossed the corpse aside and looked back at the four remaining masked men. Objectively speaking, Desmond didn’t need anything from them, nor was he interested in a duel or anything similar. Since having fun with them didn’t seem like the best option, Desmond stopped his impulse, deciding that these people weren’t worth wasting time on.

Although the four masked men were mid to low-level two-star class experts, they did not pose any threat to Desmond with his current strength. Desmond was the kind of monster that could fight multiple levels above himself; these people lacked the quality he was looking for.

As expected, even though they were experts in their own right, they were, at the end of the day, someone else’s pawn. While it was true that, in this world, martial arts ensured experts, that only applied to those who had access to martial arts of the highest level, the kind of things pawns wouldn’t have access to.

Desmond wouldn’t have dared to look down on them if each of them mastered the same Fei Long martial arts to the same level that she did; maybe he would have even avoided fighting against such a group of people.

Whatever the case, since these people were here for his life and were of no value to him in any way, Desmond was quite direct with his approach. While the masked men didn’t recognize the weapon Desmond pulled from somewhere on his waist, Revna did recognize the general shape of a gun, though she’d never seen one that big.

To tell the truth, due to the metals with which it was built, the KX-01-Hades was a pistol of immense proportions, almost reaching the size of a handheld shotgun that weighed half a ton, something Desmond could not lift and use fluently if not for his blood power-enhanced physique.

Although simple in design, resembling an enlarged dark gray desert eagle, the pistol in Desmond’s hand still emanated an ominous air, perhaps due to the green lines running from one side to the other.

Without giving any warning or making any threat, Desmond fired again and again while his eyes remained cold and indifferent as if he wasn’t reaping lives at the moment.

Inside the weapon, one could see where the lines of green cristal converge, a chamber where an absurd pressure is generated by the compression and combustion of wind mana. At the moment of firing, the wind mana was pressured to the point where it generated an implosion that functioned as the driving force for the bullets.

The black bullets, made of an incredibly dense and expensive composite alloy, sped at exorbitant speeds from the weapon, before finding their way into the body of the masked men, where they blew up everything in their path in a bloody mess.

Every time Desmond fired, a faint green flare would be generated around the weapon due to the imploded wind mana venting, a way to disperse the residual force to prevent it from wreaking havoc inside the pistol.

Desmond had no mercy, nor did he have many opportunities to have it. After all, in just a few seconds, there was no one left alive to ask for mercy. Facing the KX-01-Hades in Desmond’s hands, no one could protect their lives from the cold embrace of death. There was a reason Desmond had named the weapon that way, as lazy as it was from him to just steal names from mythology.