21

Looking at his opponent, Ainz bit his lip.

Dracula was the name of one of the unique NPCs that existed in Yggdrasil, the name of one of the strongest vampires in the whole game.

There were several different vampire bosses in the game, and one of them was the True Ancestor of all vampires, Cainabel, the God of Vampires, and the Elder Blood. He was repeatedly mentioned in the lore of many abilities, objects and quests, but unlike other gods, he never appeared directly, since being one of the most evil gods, he would be an opponent for all players and, being a god, would have a significant influence on the surrounding territory and the NPCs that inhabited them, at least from a lore point of view. So, the creators of the game eventually didn't add him to the game...that is until a Halloween event, when Cainabel supposedly gathered enough strength to manifest in the world and try to destroy it, but he turned out to be an extremely weaker opponent than his flashy title would imply. Of course, he was still able to fight three or, with some luck, four level one hundred players and even defeat them. For one of the gods and a rare event boss who appeared exclusively for two weeks and dropped a unique drop and even some game-mechanical changes like the title "Elder Blood" to any vampire player who killed him, he was unexpectedly weak and very disappointing as an opponent.

However, it was not this that was important in these conditions, but the fact that, as any god in the game, Cainabel possessed a whole group of henchmen who tended to the Blood Gardens, a whole, full-fledged dungeon that any player who decided to take part in the battle with Cainabel had to go through. And, as it should be, not only crowds of useless small fry existed in this dungeon near Cainabel, but also four of his trusted lieutenants - Elizabeth, Vladislav, Alexander and Konstantin. At the same time, each of his trusted lieutenants had a different name, the name of his "vampire" persona - Carmilla, Dracula, Cain and Abel. Each of these lieutenants was an adversary with his own specialization, a set of unique skills, tactics, and battle conditions, and while each of them was comparable in strength to a player of the hundredth level in normal conditions, in the dungeon, each of them received a significant bonus from their god.

Of the four, Dracula was a sort of magic knight, combining the features of a warrior and a mage. Although he was weaker in magic than a full-fledged mage, and weaker in melee than a full-fledged warrior, he was much stronger than any of them alone because of his ability to control the fights by using melee on magic casters and a magic on warrior, which is why he was arguably the most difficult of all four, at least for Ainz. Of course, at that time in Yggdrasil he was able to defeat Dracula, and he suspected that with preparation and certain tactics he could even solo Cainabel, but under the current conditions, there was no Yggdrasil around him - and the battle with an enemy such as Dracula was too strenuous for his current abilities.

However, it was impossible to retreat now. The enemy standing in front of him looked noble, but he clearly did not intend to retreat from the battle, even if Ainz himself would have invited him to try and reach peace, not to mention his more than expressive remark about his vampirism and the question asked by Ainz.

Therefore, Ainz, looking attentively at Vlad, did not begin a dialogue with him, but reacted first.

"Napalm," in accordance to his command, the extravaganza of fire instantly broke out on the spot where Dracula was. Dracula was fast enough to have time to react to the actions of the mage, but not fast enough to have time to escape from the embrace of the fire before it ascended to the sky, therefore, the silhouette that emerged from the fire a second later turned out to be engulfed in flames.

Although it was not as terrifying a spell as the one that Ainz used just a couple of minutes ago, fewer than two dozen modern mages could produce a similar effect - and only five could recreate it with one click of their fingers, as Ainz did. A servant with a C-rank endurance would most likely be instantly burned by a similar spell, and even the higher rank Dracula would be extremely hurt by such a force. However, although Vlad III, the Lord of Wallachia, lived on Earth at a time when magic was already too rare to rule this world, his legend surpassed his mortal name, like the Great Vampire, the magic of mortals was no more than a toy for him, because of that, even such a strong spell should have left no more than a couple of burns on it.

However, the figure burst from the flames ablaze. Covered fire, easily eating the flesh off his bones, the vampire struck with a wooden lance towards Ainz, but before the spear could pierce the mage's body, he used a spell again.

"Teleportation," with this spell, Ainz moved a hundred meters ahead, then commanded again, "Napalm."

A column of fire swallowed the place where Dracula was, burning his body with the force of a small sun, flashed by the will of the necromancer.

For some reason, the Lancer's Magic Resistance barely kept up with the pressure of Ainz's spells. Was it related to Ainz's power? Yes, but only partially. The real and most important reason lay elsewhere.

"As I thought" Ains noted to himself when, after the second fallen column of fire, he again saw the figure of Dracula burned with a magical flame "Fire works well against the undead and vampires."

In the new world, the undead were not vulnerable to fire. At least no more than an ordinary person was vulnerable to it, the dead flesh did not respond well to high temperatures and burned badly, while the bare bones of the skeletons did not burn at all. Moreover, vampires in the new world were not undead at all, at least according to the general definition of what the undead is. Even if some kinds of undead could have been afraid of fire, the vampires obviously wouldn't suffer more from it than their nature was supposed to.

But not for Ainz. In Yggdrasil, the vampires were undead, and all undead were vulnerable to fire, which is why Ainz now had no doubt, sending one fiery column after the other towards the enemy. And his phenomenal "Existence Outside the Domain" allowed him that. As a creature that brought its "principle of existence" as one of its skills, things like "vampires are vulnerable to fire" were taken for granted by him. And his skill, obeying this logic, entered into a fight with the world around, forcing it to believe in the truth of Ainz's statements. And although this skill was not completely positive - because necrotic magic, which was Ainz''s his speciality, will be greatly reduced in effectiveness against the undead and vampires following the logic of Yggdrasil, including Dracula, despite the fact that he was usually as vulnerable to it as any other living thing. But at the moment, this ability was the thing that made the spells of Ainz so deadly.

Dracula rushed towards Ainz again, but Ainz was not fazed by that, nor did he change tactics, seeing that it works.

"Napalm," he commanded, but this time Vlad turned out to be more agile and was able to dodge the flaming column of fire, barely burning his cloak.

"Commendable ..." he began, but Ainz was not distracted.

"Napalm," he conjured another spell, after which he calmly went the other way, "Teleportation"...

Arthuria avoided getting hit time after time, time after time, time after time. Right, left, bend down, jump...

"ARTHUR!" - Lancelot's brutal roar tore the sounds of battle, after which the King of Knights barely had time to raise her blade before a new blow sent her on a short flight.

The blow was so strong that even in plate gloves, holding Excalibur in her hands, possessing all the power of the Servant, Arthuria felt her hands go numb for a second.

The strike sent the girl in a short flight. However, she easily regained her balance, landing easily on her feet a couple of seconds later, only to instantly step aside, fleeing from the next series of attacks.

"ARTHUR!" - like a mad beast, howling its battle cry, Lancelot rushed "ARTHUR! ARTHUR! ARTHUR!"

Arthuria was dodging the blows with an ever shrinking gap, barely managing to occasionally brush aside the figure of the black knight approaching her.

One strike, a second, a third, a fourth...

His knee, sharply crashing into her solar plexus, knocked the air out of Arturia for a second, and if it were not for the instincts that screamed in her body to bend, the next blow coming her way could have been the last one. She bent in an unthinkable pirouette to put the blade under the blow of an improvised weapon in the hands of Lancelot, Blackened Excalibur took the blow of the weapon in Berserker's hands, but instead of tearing apart the weapon that had collided with it, the sword just grated helplessly, as if facing iron instead of wood, before Arthuria could find in herself enough strength get out from under the ensuing series of strikes.

"ARTHUR!" letting out another cry, Lancelot rushed again, not giving the King the opportunity to even rest.

'This is…' - only after that, and from the very beginning of the battle, a single thought slipped into Arturia's head - 'Somewhat unpleasant.'

When he was alive, Lancelot was the perfect knight. In terms of fencing techniques, he was superior to Arthuria herself... no, it would not have been an understatement to say that he was superior to any knight of the Round Table in battle. Arthuria could fight him using brute physical strength and manaburst, but if she decided to fight Lancelot in an honest duel without taking advantage of her rough power, she would instantly end up on the ground, rubbing all the places Lancelot would consider necessary to injure in a duel. In other words, in this case, the only hope for Arthuria was manaburst and superiority in pure power.

However, by becoming a Berserker, Lancelot sacrificed his mind, exchanging it for power, which meant that he was now more than comparable to the King of Knights. Even her manaburst gave her only a second of advantage before Lancelot overwhelmed her again.

Of course, if Lancelot really completely lost his mind, then his fencing technique should also sink into oblivion, turning him from a noble knight into a mad beast, swinging a blade like a club. However, this did not happen. Every trick and attack Lancelot used was perfect, as if she was fighting him again in the courtyard of Camelot, waiting patiently, as he, having won in their battle, would teach her a new trick. No, maybe his technique was even better - to the perfect fencing of Lancelot he added his insane fury directed at Arthuria, which is why all his flawless tricks acquired an internal spark, becoming angrier and stronger with every swing. Arthuria had to get away from his attacks, maneuvering between one strike and the next. Without the possibility of even once swinging Excalibur. The girl was driven into a complete defense.

"This is..." - she calmly analyzed her situation - "Bad."

Lancelot was not an invincible opponent. If Arthuria could hit him with her Noble Phantasm, he would have died instantly, she only needed a few seconds to activate it.

But Lancelot did not give her those few seconds.

Moving away from the next strike, the girl dodged a new attack, after which she jumped back, breaking contact.

At this moment, she received from Ainz only fifty percent of all her mana, putting her at half her maximum strength. If Ainz had given her full access to his mana, then she would have become twice as strong - she would have surpassed Lancelot in all parameters, after which, with the help of a manaburst, she could have destroyed him with a few blows.

In any other case, she would have done just that. Fighting the Dragon Witch, or Saber, or the girl with the Catholic cross, she would have instantly used all her reserves, destroying her opponent in a few moments without leaving him a chance.

But not now.

Dodging the next series of blows, Arthuria took a step back. Lancelot slowly but surely was overtaking her.

Lancelot... The name of her shame. The man that caused her defeat. Lancelot-madman, Lancelot-traitor, Lancelot-rebel. The name of her main opponent and the name of her dear friend.

Escaping time after time from his attacks, Arthuria tried to discern in each subsequent blow something from the real Lancelot, the one she had known once. From her friend, teacher, follower. But did not see anything.

This Lancelot breathed rage. Hatred, anger and madness ruled his mind - and with each strike it became more and more obvious. There was nothing in him, only blind rage and madness.

This Lancelot was bound in armor from pain and anger and saw no other choice but to continue to grow into them more and more, going mad more and more.

In an instant, Arthuria stumbled, allowing Lancelot to bring his weapon for the final blow, but at the last sliver of time, when the knight in black appeared behind her - the first manaburst, then the second, third and fourth - allowed her to exceed the limits of even the perfect knight and deliver an instant hit with Excalibur. By allowing Lancelot to control the fight, Arthuria tried to trap him, but even distraught, Lancelot was a more skilled as a knight than Arthuria ever was. Such an obvious trick was not a surprise for Lancelot - and he instantly tried to dodge left. If it were not for the repeated manabursts, then he would have easily avoided the blow. But Arthuria did not take chances, and therefore, Excalibur pierced the body of the knight, leaving a deep wound on his chest. His lung was pierced, but Lancelot seemed to not even react to this, his only response to this wound was a series of his insane attacks.

Arthuria broke contact again, jumping back for a second.

"Lancelot..." she said for the first time in the entire battle, and Lancelot, the knight ablaze with hate, stopped, "Forgive me."

For a second, the black knight stopped before exploding in a new fountain of hate.

"ARTHUR!" - the earth itself seemed to crack under his feet at the hate radiating from him.

Arthuria only prepared her blade.

The Past could not be changed, and Arthuria was going to kill Lancelot. However, this did not mean that she ceased to be responsible for him. Lancelot was her mistake - and she had to correct her mistake personally.

The blade flew from Serenity's hand towards to Witch, forcing her to defend from the attack with her hand, easily batting itl with a glove. Jeanne took advantage of her opponent's momentary confusion, sending her spear towards the Witch, forcing her to defend from the new attack, striking a black blade against the Jeanne's banner. Serenity, taking advantage of this, threw two more blades towards the Witch.

The Witch, frowning slightly, curved sharply, letting the two strips of steel fly over her, after which, a blow from her blade parried the following blow from Jeanne, and taking a half step back, rising, she counterattacked. The black blade in her hands seemed to absorb the light, not leaving even a glare on its surface, as if it was completely assembled from darkness - and the strength of the hands holding the blade exceeded the strength of the weakened Jeanne, because of which, she barely managed to fend off the blow with her banner, but before the Witch could cut the spear shaft with the next blow, a sharp movement behind her back made her give up the attack and strike another blow with a backhand. Serenity, taking advantage of her superior dexterity, easily left the line of attack, after which she retreated with one continuous movement, throwing a few more knives towards the Witch. Jeanne, finding no pressure on herself, instantly took a step back, avoiding the possibility of the Witch's attack.

The battle fell into this rhythm for ten minutes. The three participants circled around each other, exchanging minor attacks that did not turn into real blows. All of Serenity's attacks were too weak to hurt the Witch. All Jeanne's attacks were easily blocked by the Witch, and all attempts from the Witch to attack in response were easily interrupted by attacks from Jeanne or Serenity. The fight reached a stalemate.

The three fighters exchanged insignificant attacks, continuing to dance around each other, but no one could inflict much wounds. But still…

Slowly, the Witch was losing.

In a one-on-one battle, the Witch could kill either of the two Servants. Despite the fact that Serenity possessed tremendous Dexterity, in a one-on-one battle, where the Witch could concentrate entirely on her attacks, she would calculate her fighting style, after which, only one attack would be required to instantly kill the Assassin.

If Jeanne had her full strength, perhaps she would become a serious opponent, but the Witch believed that she could still win the battle. This assumption was not entirely groundless.

But now, with Jeanne having lost so much of her strength, a victory over her would be not much more difficult than a victory over an ordinary zombie. Longer, but not harder.

But at the same time, the Witch had been fighting the two Servants for ten minutes and... Was losing.

Yes, it was imperceptible, but the Witch was slowly losing the battle. Jeanne's attacks did not reach her, and Serenity's attacks left only shallow scratches, but the Witch really slowly was losing under the onslaught of two. Scratches meant hardly more than scratches, but the Witch knew that she was losing... Slowly and inevitably.

If anyone wished to compare the course of the battle, then it would look like a forty-nine percent victory on the part of the Witch - and fifty-one on the part of her opponents. Despite the fact that this advantage was insignificant, only two percent, it was nevertheless existing. Serenity's attacks, which left scratches on the Witch's body, were similar to signs of this advantage. Too insignificant to be called even full-fledged attacks, and yet real, existing, proving that even with miserable percentages, the Dragon Witch herself was weaker.

No.

The thought of her weakness stirred in her mind like a candle flame rising from glowing embers.

No.

Powerlessness instantly spread through her mind, as if dry foliage picked up a spark from a glow candle.

No. NO. NO!

She was not weak! She was the strongest of all! She will kill them all! No one will betray her! No one can beat her! Revenge, chaos, pain!

Clenching her teeth, as if trying to crush them together, the Witch growled slightly.

The Jeanne's lance was once again racing to stab the Witch's body, but she knew that by continuing to retreat, she would only enable the enemy Servants to continue their slow progress towards victory. No one was supposed to beat her!

Hatred flooded the Witch's mind, after which, with a hand chained in black armor, she intercepted the spear directed at her heart and sharply pulled it towards her. Jeanne, who did not release the banner from her hands instantly found herself in front of the Witch...

Pain pierced the Witch's mind when two Serenity's blades dug into her exposed back, but pain didn't mean anything to her now. A black blade, not reflecting light, entered Jeanne's stomach, forcing her to freeze in pain for a second, then, with a sharp, tearing motion, the blade was pulled out, causing the Saint to faint for an instant before the Witch could throw her off. Serenity's blades sank again into the Witch's body, making her hiss from pain, but before the black sword arced towards the girl, Serenity was already gone, having gotten away from the Witch.

With a double jump, Assassin got in front of the Witch again, with her hands firmly grabbing her blades, which now left a trace of Witch's blood on the ground.

The Witch pointed it at Serenity with her blade.

"Now what?" blood oozed from the wounds on her back, and her body was slight heated because of the fight, but the Witch kept herself steady and confident, "You are alone. If you give up now, then so be it, I will spare your life."

Jeanne lay wounded nearby, blood flowed from her torn abdomen as if all the regeneration of the Servants was no more than a myth, but Serenity was looking straight at the Witch, not taking her eyes off her.

"Well," the Witch slowly led her blade around, "Your Saint is about to bleed out and die. Hurry up, or you will not have time to save her."

"She is not my Saint," Serenity did not even notice the mockery in the words of the Witch, "And the value of her life is insignificant at the moment. Perhaps, if she dies, it will even be a positive outcome."

"Hmm?" slightly surprised at such an answer, the Witch looked at Serenity with a slightly different look, "Such an unusual look at things. Ordinary people are always easily captivated by her kindness, beauty, modesty and naivety. Her Christian virtues."

"My morality is not based on these qualities" at this moment Serenity glanced at Jeanne. "Besides, she has already completed her part of the work, therefore her continued existence is not obligatory."

"Hmm?" The Witch was even more surprised by these words, after which, she lowered her blade slightly "I admit, I am amazed. Perhaps, if we could meet under other conditions, we could establish fruitful cooperation."

"This is unlikely" Serenity calmly objected. "You are a young and beautiful girl who would be next to the Master. We would not cooperate with you."

"Hmm?" this stopped the Witch for a second, not fully understanding, was she supposed to be more pleased with a compliment or angry at refusal, but, as a result, without coming to a definite conclusion, she simply turned to another question "Well now, with your ally almost dead, you're alone with me. Tell me, what are you going to do?"

Jeanne moaned a little, the bleeding had almost stopped. Her life was no longer in immediate danger, but she could not participate in battle in any way.

But instead of panic, a small, confident smile appeared on Serenity's face.

"Just what I planned to do before" Serenity straightened two blades in her hands, "I will silence you."

Medusa pulled her blade towards herself, after which, with a sharp movement of her hand, she threw it forward. Saber, without a second of delay, moved away, but obeying Rider's movements, a sharp iron spike connected with a steel chain rushed after the swordsman as if alive, but Saber easily dodged, took a step back, after which, when the second blade struck where he was, he jumped to the side, having beaten off one more attack with a blade flashed in his hands.

"Noble lady, you are fighting with the grace of a deer and the ferocity of a tiger," he praised Medusa for continuing to attack him, "I am amazed that my fate brought me together with you, but I ask you to give up. You have no chance."

"I doubt it" Medusa calmly replied, after which, she sent another blade, which Saber easily batted off, as if not paying attention at all.

The situation looked bad.

Rider bit her lip.

Saber was abnormally strong. Because he kept dodging Rider's attacks or deflecting them with his blade, he still hasn't been scratched, and in the worst case, all that Medusa managed to do was mess his clothes. At the same time, Medusa herself paid for each of her attempts to go on the offensive, several shallow, but long and unpleasant cuts on her body continued to drip slowly with blood, soaking the ground beneath her.

But she was Medusa, the legendary heroine of Greece - she was at the top of the Servants. But in this battle, all she could do was to keep Saber at a distance, not letting him get close to her.

Stalemate.

Medusa and Saber were absolutely equal. Of course, Medusa was injured - but these wounds could not affect her actions. She found the perfect strategy to keep Saber at bay - but this led only to one thing.

Absolute stalemate.

"Noble lady," having shown his gallantity, in a symbolic gesture, Saber lowered his blade to the ground and smiled, "I see, you also understood the situation in which we both turned out to be. I ask you to reconsider, there is no need for this battle."

Medusa did not believe these words. He had already attacked her once, at the very beginning, interrupting their exchange of courtesies. But now, what he said was true. They really were both in a draw. Saber could not get close, and Medusa could not go on the offense.

Pulling the chain, Medusa pulled the blade from the ground into her hand, and then turned to Saber, barely noticeably nodding her head, showing that she was listening to him. Seeing such a barely noticeable movement, Saber was delighted, after which he nodded.

"Noble lady, why should we fight?" Saber tried to take a step forward, but instantly, Medusa's blade thrust into the ground in front of his foot. "Oh, you do not trust me? Well, it would be stupid of me to say that I did not expect this, but this does not mean that such behavior on your part does not hurt me."

"Noble lady," Saber took a step back, "As you understand, in the current battle we are both in a stalemate. I can not attack, and you can only defend. In other words, our battle is meaningless and can last as long as it takes, and not reach an end. Without the intervention of another force, neither of us could win."

Medusa could not disagree with his words, but without understanding exactly where Saber wanted to lead this conversation, Rider did not dare to respond in any unambiguous manner to Saber. However, he was satisfied with simple silence and continued.

"I suggest you stop this battle for the few minutes that the other servants would need to win their battles, your friends or mine," Saber was pointing to the battles that were going on not far away. On the one hand, Cu Chulainn drew the runes in the air, trying to hit the black and white shadow with a burst of fire, while on the other, both Archer and Assassin were trying to land a hit on one seemingly defenseless girl, who could somehow fight on equal terms with both of them with her titanic cross, accompanying her physical blows with spells, forcing the Servants to escape from the splashes of energy that arose every time.

Saber's proposal sounded logical, however, trusting the enemy, which had already demonstrated its desire to fight her while neglecting honor, was the height of stupidity.

Medusa could neither refuse such an offer nor agree to it. Apparently, realizing the same fact independently, Saber sighed.

"I understand you, noble lady," the boy sighed, "But I'm afraid if you cannot agree with me, then I will be forced to see your answer as a denial."

After these words, Medusa tightened her grip on her blades, but Saber, wiping his blade on the sheath, brought it back into place.

Rider hesitated for a second - but after these actions, Saber just took off his hat, and slowly sat in seiza on the grass, wet with morning dew, putting his hat next to him.

"Lady, you should not stay standing!" he said to the misunderstanding Medusa "The world will not collapse if you sit down, please"

Medusa blinked once, then the second and third, and then looked at Saber. He really sat on the grass. Peering closely, Medusa was even able to determine that the guy had covered his eyes and was now slowly breathing in the morning air that had come from the nearby river.

Somewhere nearby, the roar of an explosion from the battle of Cu Chulainn and his opponent made Medusa snap out of her torpor. However, Saber only continued to sit on the grass, as if he was not at all concerned about the surroundings.

"Lady!" finally he turned to Medusa, when she was distracted by the explosion that followed from the battle of Archer and Assassin, "Please, sit down. If we are destined to kill each other, the perhaps in the last moments of our life we should enjoy the nature around us?"

Medusa blinked once, after which, as if accepting defeat, she sighed and slowly sank down on the grass. From the morning dew her legs immediately became wet, but Saber did not jump up the same second, trying to tear the girl apart.

Feeling a little stupid, Medusa, nevertheless, still decided.

She closed her eyes for a second.

Just for a second.

Pain shot through her.

Saber's blade pierced through the girl, tearing her belly open. Perhaps Saber could have pierced her heart, but instead Saber chose to hit her in the stomach, a place that definitely should not have been protected from the blow.

How could he do this? It remained only a guess. Saber's talent was so incredible during his lifetime that he remained especially Skilled even when he became a Servant, despite his achievements during his life as a mortal not hinting at such talent.

"I ask for your forgiveness, noble lady," the swordsman pressed the blade slightly, accepting Medusa's silence for her shock from pain, "But I really do not know how to fight otherwise."

A moment, and Medusa's hand squeezed the hand Saber was holding the hilt of his sword with. The swordsman tried to get away, but Rider's incredible strength squeezed his arm so that he could not even loosen his grip on the sword.

"I understand," said the girl. Her "Monstrous Strength" Skill acted only during a melee battle, therefore, she needed to lure Saber into close quarters combat no less than Saber need to get closer to Medusa. Saber's trick was equally useful to both of them.

A blow of incredible strength with Medusa's blade hit Saber's arm, separating it from his body, it immediately fell to the ground, showering the grass with blood.

Saber did not seem at all surprised or frightened by this development of events, he instantly picked up the fallen limb with the blade still in its hand, and irrigated the earth with a blood-stained stump as he leaped back.

"I miscalculated," he said calmly, wrapping the bloodied stump with what's left of his sleeve in seconds, "I thought I was able to distract you. Anyone who sees my face cannot ignore my words."

To this, Medusa just calmly lifted the blade and tapped a couple of times lightly on her blindfold, reminding him that she had not seen his appearance.

Disarmingly, Saber smiled "Forgot."

After the battle that had just happened, such a simple excuse from a magnificent swordsman made Medusa look at him carefully, "Forgot?"

"Hmm," Saber was a little embarrassed at this "Let a girl have her own oddities!"

Medusa did not react to this embarrassment, so Saber smiled again, "But, apparently, I will not be able to offer you a second time to rest."

The blood stopped gushing out from Medusa's belly, and the pain no longer reflected on her face, which made it clear that Rider was ready to continue the battle. On his part, the swordsman took his blade in his hand, and then, he smiled, "In that case... Shall we continue?"

Gradually, evading Vlad's attacks became increasingly difficult.

"Teleportation," Ainz walked away to find a wooden stake flying into him. Weapons of this level could not inflict damage on Ainz, especially considering that it was a thrown weapon, which technically made it a ranged weapon, Ainz's defense against such weapons was particularly strong, but the mage did not tempt fate and went on to the next teleportation, only to find himself moving closer to Dracula.

The clothes of the vampire were almost completely burned, in some places his formerly luxurious black camisole melted into the skin, his hair was full of bald spots, the skin was disfigured with terrible burns, his left arm was almost completely burned to charcoal and could break off like a dry branch in any moment, but still, Vlad was still alive and could fight.

"What perseverance," Ainz nodded, then instantly teleported to the side, before Lancer's spear could pierce him.

To this, Vlad just threw another one, which appeared as if from nowhere.

"Is running away is all you can do?" Dracula's voice was full of anger, "Fight!"

In response to this, Ainz went in the direction of another teleportation, after which, in silence, he sent another fiery spell towards Lancer, forcing him to leap off.

"Dishonorable son of a bitch!" Vlad squeezed the spear in his hands with such force that the wooden thorn cracked "Fight like a man!"

"Why should I?" Ainz was a little surprised, "I'm winning."

It would seem that these words were the last straw. Raising his spear into the air, Lancer instantly rushed at Ainz, who only teleported to the side, then again, and again, and again...

Spears shot from the ground and pierced through Ainz, a dozen wooden stakes struck out of the soil at the speed of a bullet, punching into the mage's body in many places.

Lancer instantly stopped when he saw this scene.

"Finally…" Vlad stopped in his place, after which, he turned his eyes to Ainz. The mage's body hung on a dozen spikes, pierced in several places at once, like a rag doll nailed to the wall with a pin "How long have I been waiting for this!"

Vlad smiled, then, without holding back emotions, he laughed. Considering that half of his face was burned — through the coals left in place of his cheeks, one could see rows of teeth with sharp, long canines — this laughter looked particularly creepy.

"How long have I waited, how long have I suffered!" - Vlad burst out laughing at this, after which, he slowly moved to Ainz, crucified on his spears.

"My stakes submit to my will," slowly, feeling the inevitable death approaching Ainz with every step he took, the vampire enjoyed every moment. "Everything in my kingdom obeys my will. Anyone who happens to be in my territory is subject to my judgment. To live or die, be pinned - or join me."

"Only one problem," Vlad winced at this, "Creating a kingdom takes time. It takes time to declare your land, to subjugate it to yourself. The time that you still gave me. If it were not for your dishonest way of fighting, I wouldn't have been able to do this. I might even thank you."

Looking at the crucified body of Ainz, Vlad extended his hand, after which a spear appeared in his hand. Slowly raising it, he directed the stake into the heart of the mage crucified in front of him.

"Having declared the land I walked on as my kingdom, all I needed was to go around as much territory as possible," Vlad remembered how long he had to chase Ainz and winced, "And then make you step on it. It was interesting to play catch with you, but now you will die."

Ainz, after these words, opened his eyes.

"Thank you for the information," he said calmly, after which he used the spell, "Teleportation."

"Huh?" for a moment, Vlad was even taken aback by such a quick change of scenery.

Behind his back the mage used another spell, after which Vlad felt Ainz disappear from his territory.

Turning around, Dracula could see that now Ainz was floating in the sky, at a height of several tens of meters above the ground, having correctly understood Vlad's weakness. Of course, if he had more time, he could even turn the sky into his kingdom, which would make it impossible for Ainz to hide in it, but now, with such a scant period of time, Ainz was completely protected from instantaneous impalement in the air. However, this did not answer the question of how Ainz managed to escape from the restraint of stakes on the ground, nor how his clothes were completely intact with not even dirty with a drop of blood. Even though he was pierced a second ago.

"How could you avoid Kazikli Bey?!" Vlad demanded an answer.

Ainz had several answers, including his characteristics, one of skills, another skill, a third, a fourth, and also at least six items of his equipment, but the mage did not want to respond to Vlad, revealing even the smallest part of his abilities was dangerous.

"Napalm," he replied to Vlad with a spell, forcing him to throw himself to the side, after which, he continued to calmly attack the Lancer, "Napalm."

Magic Resistance: A+

A Servant of this rank is invulnerable to modern magic. For him, even the High Thaumaturgy and the Great Rituals are no more than simple tricks. Even the greatest magi of the Age of the Gods rarely pose any danger to him, only a few dozen Servants and mages in the entire history of mankind were able to discover in themselves a power capable of surpassing the resistance of such a rank.

Also, in addition to the spells, this skill reduces the effect of other Skills and Phantasms with a magic base. The titanic strength of this resistance is such that it can even neutralize a magic-based A-grade skill - or weaken a stronger skill to this level, turning even A++ rank skill into E rank - or do the same with Noble Phantasm up to B rank.\