Earl Sindro (2)

No. He wouldn't bend the knee.

Not because he was brave, but because he understood the system.

The Count didn't offer allegiance out of generosity—he did it out of fear.

And once you surrendered? You were a slave. A pawn. A meat puppet tied to a boss-level leash. The game might tempt players with god-tier rewards, but there was always a price. The system didn't let players ascend for free—not in a world like Mercenary World.

And even if he did pledge loyalty, would anything change?

Would the quest complete? Would the curse be lifted?

Would he stop being a werewolf?

Nope.

At best, he'd get a new title and still be stuck in the same pit of muck. No progress, just prettier chains.

Dawei scoffed aloud. "Brother isn't that easy."

Another player might have leaped into Sindellow's arms, worshipped him like a god, begged to suck a drop of vampire power.

But Dawei?

Dawei was different.

He didn't just play the game—he understood it.

There were no free meat pies falling from the sky. And if there were, they were poisoned.

So, he made his choice.

He clicked [Refuse Recruitment].

And then everything went to hell.

"Then feel my wrath!"

The interface burst into crimson—flashing danger symbols, alarms blaring like an emergency lockdown.

Sindellow's body distorted, stretching and expanding with a sickening crack. His transformation wasn't flashy—it was biblical. He grew more than ten meters tall, black wings erupting from his back like blades of shadow. What once looked like a man in a cloak now resembled an ancient god of war.

Dawei, even in his werewolf form, looked like a chew toy in comparison.

The boss didn't bother with magic or fancy skills—Dawei was immune to the Count's darkness-based attacks anyway. So Sindellow just went primal.

No rituals. No theatrics.

Just raw, overwhelming physical force.

Dawei had guessed the beginning.

But he hadn't predicted this end.

"This was a trap," he muttered through clenched teeth. "The hidden attributes... all deliberate."

He realized now: the entire exchange had been scripted to bait players into surrendering. The system knew most players would fold, hoping for a shortcut to power. But the moment you submitted? You were locked in. The quest dead-ended. Freedom gone.

Dawei might be reckless—but he wasn't stupid.

He backed away, claws flexing, every muscle coiled for a fight.

The castle loomed behind Sindellow, a towering bastion of ancient cruelty, glowing with cursed runes.

He hadn't prepared for a front-line boss confrontation. No buffs. No potions. No backup. Just raw instinct and an overloaded inventory of junk loot.

Whatever. Sooner or later, it comes to this anyway.

"Fine. Let's dance."

He rushed the Count head-on.

His only advantage? Speed.

Werewolves were agile by design. Fast, nimble, slippery. Sindellow might have wings, but now—fully transformed—he was slow. Tanky, yes. But that massive form came at the cost of mobility.

Sindellow bellowed in rage. "You wield power you do not deserve! I am Cain's chosen heir! And you—you're a failed experiment. When I devour your soul, my godhead will be complete!"

Wait, what?

Lore bomb.

Dawei's mind raced even as he ducked under a claw swipe. So it was true—werewolves and vampires shared the same origin. Both were cursed by Cain. That meant Sindellow wasn't just some ancient vampire—he was Cain's direct descendant.

Dawei barely rolled to the side as the Count's claw smashed into the ground, cracking the bridge beneath them.

Still—Sindellow had made a mistake.

He'd abandoned flight.

He'd cut off his own wings.

Now, the fight was grounded. Closer. Personal.

It was almost fair.

Almost.

But even in melee, Sindellow had an edge.

He had something the werewolf didn't: a massive prehensile tail.

It was long. Whiplike. And fast.

Boom!

Dawei didn't even see it coming.

The tail slammed into his side and sent him flying. He crashed into the stone bridge, bouncing off it like a ragdoll, skidding to a halt just short of the edge.

-28,000 HP!Status Effect: STUNNED (3s)Status Effect: ARMOR SHRED (-15% DEF for 30s)

Dawei wheezed, his health bar bleeding red.

"Shameless bastard..." he growled, coughing up pixelated blood.

He staggered to his feet, only to see Sindellow advancing, tail lashing behind him like a living whip. It wasn't just a physical extension—it had its own AI. Its own hitbox. It made close combat a nightmare.

Dawei counted himself lucky the wings were gone. If the Count had vertical mobility, this fight would've ended in ten seconds flat.

But that tail...

That goddamn tail.

He dodged another swipe, then another. Still, Sindellow's reach was enormous. The battlefield was shrinking with every clash.

System Tip: You are now in ENRAGED ZONE. Boss aggression x2. All cooldowns reduced.

Great. Just great.

"This isn't even a fight," Dawei muttered, backpedaling. "It's a damn beatdown."

He couldn't use fancy skills—the system had hard-coded immunities on both sides. No magic. No vampiric weakness exploitation. Just brute strength and dodging.

It was no longer about winning. It was about surviving long enough to figure out how to win.

If this was a test, the objective wasn't to kill Sindellow.

It was to find the opening.

Dawei's breath came fast. He circled the giant, searching for a pattern, anything exploitable. The tail had a rhythm. There were blind spots. Tiny ones—but they existed.

He grinned, blood in his mouth.

"Alright, you vampire son of Cain... let's see who breaks first."

Because this wasn't a scripted death event.

This was a real fight.

And brother never played to lose.