Roger ate quickly, gulping huge chunks, finishing the high-rank vampire's heart in moments.
Done with that, he cracked open the chests of the two mid-rank vampires and devoured their hearts just as swiftly.
A chill ran through Reyn; he froze, unsure what to say.
After three hearts, Roger perked up noticeably; a sinister aura emanated from him, his power seemingly grown. He disdained the five ordinary vampires' hearts—or perhaps was simply full.
Roger wiped blood from his lips and asked impassively:
"Never seen Demon Hunters devour monsters?"
Reyn shook his head blankly.
Roger sighed:
"Devouring monsters or their vital organs is the best way for a Demon Hunter to boost strength. Vampires' power concentrates in the heart. Eating theirs saves me at least two months of training."
He glanced at Reyn's conflicted face and casually added:
"Otherwise, why do you think so many people hate and fear Demon Hunters?"
Reyn nodded understandingly but still couldn't reconcile it. Not just monster organs—even raw normal animal meat would disgust ordinary folk. Many monsters looked strange and gruesome, covered in filth. Eating their raw organs—unthinkable.
Anyway, the thought alone turned Reyn's stomach. Too... specific. He secretly thanked his stars he hadn't become a Demon Hunter.
Roger said no more, pulled a black crystal from his belt pouch, and approached the vampire corpses. The crystal glowed faintly, as if sucking something in, and red sparks rose from the bodies, vanishing inside.
Reyn watched curiously. It resembled soul collection but wasn't. He recalled his academy instructor: true demons, including devils, could only be permanently killed in the Abyss. Outside it, destroying the body sent the soul back to the Abyss for rebirth. Soul Stones couldn't capture demon souls. The only way to prevent return was sealing, not killing.
Some superhumans needing demon souls for fusion had to enter the Abyss, hunt, and use Soul Stones to bring them back.
Just now, killing those two ordinary vampires, Reyn noticed. Their souls were absorbed by his phone and charged it, but not fully—part evaporated instantly. That conscious remnant returned to the Abyss.
Unable to fully absorb, Reyn got little energy from the two: just four charge bars total. But the dozen-plus blood servants, mere monsters not true demons, gave little each but totaled twelve bars!
This demon hunt doubled Reyn's power, raising charge to thirty-one percent.
But Reyn noted: he couldn't absorb souls from vampires hit by Roger's silver sword, and Roger was collecting those glowing points from their bodies.
"Master Roger, what are you doing?" he couldn't help asking.
"Gathering soul shards," Roger explained without turning. "A high-rank or above Hunter's silver sword shatters a demon's soul on kill, leaving shards in the body. Soul shards are key for many Hunter alchemical bombs and elixirs. Like this 'Explosive Flame.' Its main component: Sulfur Hound soul shards mixed with phlogiston and a few other ingredients."
Saying this, Roger pulled an alchemical bomb from his belt and tossed it casually to Reyn. He caught it startled, nearly dropping it. His impressions of alchemical bombs were fresh: one had demolished half a wall, power several times his grenades.
This "Explosive Flame" was egg-sized, heavy as stone, black like a pebble. Up close, faint glowing runes shimmered on its surface.
Until now, Reyn had believed that there were no such throwable explosive devices on Ellunes. It seemed he had judged too narrowly. From Roger's words, it followed that there were a great many alchemical bombs, and most of them were designed to fight monsters, neutralizing their abilities. For example, "Silver Moon Dust," which Roger had used earlier: it dealt no damage, but deprived vampires of invisibility.
The diverse alchemical bombs made demon hunters especially formidable opponents for any unclean creatures.
However, only high-rank hunters and above, who had merged with such a monster as the Soul Schism Spirit and obtained the "Soul Schism Touch" element, could shatter demons' souls with their silver sword and collect their shards. Without soul shards, it was impossible to create alchemical bombs.
Other superhumans extremely rarely possessed such abilities.
Reyn had learned a great deal. In terms of functionality and effects, alchemical bombs were clearly superior to grenades and better suited for battles between superhumans. However, if judged by maximum power, alchemical bombs fell short of various Earth explosives. Moreover, explosives could be used by non-superhumans, not to mention those "nuclear peacemakers"—weapons of mass destruction.
Each had its advantages and disadvantages.
Reyn returned the "Explosive Flame" to Roger. Footsteps echoed from the passage.
He turned and saw a tall, powerful man burst into the hall, swinging a huge axe. Behind him followed a man in leather armor with a spiritual weapon in hand and a swordswoman in elegant silver armor.
All three froze upon seeing the scene before them.
"Who are you?" the axe-wielding man asked in a low voice. He stood over two meters tall with a bear-like build. He wore simple leather armor that exposed arms as thick as an adult's thigh; his muscles bulged as if he were carved from stone, harboring terrifying strength.
Roger was still intently collecting soul shards, paying no attention to the trio.
Reyn didn't respond either. He recognized two of them. The man and woman who entered last were none other than Pollock and Frida, who had searched his apartment a few weeks ago. One was a ranger, the other a holy swordswoman, and they had identified themselves as members of the Longsand Demon Extermination Bureau.
The first to burst in was the brute—clearly a berserker.
"The demon extermination squad works fast," Reyn thought. "Surprisingly quick to scent trouble and arrive."
He noticed that Pollock and Frida apparently didn't recognize him; their gazes still held wariness.
Pollock eyed the tall youth standing before him, covered in blood, and his companion, the gray-haired demon hunter, and roughly guessed what had happened. When he spotted several vampires among the corpses and assessed their ranks, he involuntarily gasped.
"Eight vampires, and one of them high-rank!"
Pollock's eyelids twitched spasmodically. He couldn't have imagined such a large vampire lair hiding in the Honiton district. If his squad had stumbled upon them, it would have been the end.
Fortunately, they were all destroyed.
Pollock secretly sighed in relief. Superhumans capable of wiping out so many vampires would have attacked long ago if hostile.
"Captain, a high-rank vampire!" the holy swordswoman Frida exclaimed.
Pollock gestured to calm her and, turning, said loudly:
"Esteemed sirs, we are members of the Longsand Demon Extermination Bureau. I am Pollock, and these are my fighters."
Pollock introduced himself respectfully, behaving very modestly. From his experience, the main work of exterminating these devils had been done by that impassive-faced demon hunter. The youth before him looked fierce, but his blood-soaked appearance suggested brutal hand-to-hand combat rather than overwhelming power—otherwise, he wouldn't be so splattered. Moreover, most of the floor corpses—blood servants—had been killed by hammer blows, while most vampires had fallen to the silver sword.
Reyn noticed Pollock's gaze fixed on Roger and couldn't help admiring this demon extermination squad captain's insight.
At that moment, Roger finally finished collecting the soul shards. He offered no explanations; his face remained cold and impassive.
"Deliver the reward to the 'Basilisk' tavern tomorrow," he tossed out.
"As you command," Pollock replied without hesitation and promptly stepped aside politely, clearing the passage exit.
Roger left the hall unhurriedly without another glance at them. Reyn paused a moment, scanned the three squad members, and followed.
Only when their figures vanished did Pollock finally relax.
"Captain, who is that demon hunter?" the berserker asked hoarsely.
"I don't know him either," Pollock shook his head, lost in thought.
"He's just a high-rank hunter, no need to make a fuss," the berserker grumbled discontentedly. Being ignored had bruised his ego.
"Hargrove, watch your tongue," Pollock snapped at him. "He's not just any high-rank hunter. Someone who can kill a high-rank vampire and two mid-rank ones without a scratch is most likely a legendary warrior."
"Legendary!"
Berserker Hargrove nearly jumped and fearfully retracted his neck. Legendary demon hunters had incredibly sharp hearing; who knew if his grumbling had been overheard.
Frida standing nearby was also extremely surprised.
"So he's a legendary demon hunter," she whispered in awe. "No wonder he's so strong. Without a legend, who would dare storm a vampire lair."
Pollock felt belated fear. It was his squad's turn to patrol tonight, and hearing the nearby explosion, they rushed here at top speed, not expecting to stumble straight into a vampire den. Fortunately, all the devils were already eliminated, and there was no more danger.
He clapped his hands and ordered:
"Enough idling, quickly clean up this vampire nest. Also check the clothing store upstairs, make sure no vampires remain."
"Yes, Captain!"
The two immediately got to work, but seeing Pollock head for the exit, Hargrove couldn't hold back:
"Captain, where are you going?"
"To process the reward, of course," Pollock replied. "Need to handle all formalities overnight to deliver the money to that legendary lord tomorrow morning."