Lord Of Succubi:Transmigrated As A Dual Cultivator In Isekai Of Magic

Chapter 448 Chapter 448

A flicker of encouragement streaked across his eyes. And Just as he leaned his head forward for a hot chase, a blinding burst of crimson lit up the horizon!

'What the fuck–?'

The horse neighed violently- throwing its head back as the fierce flames tore through the curtain of blackness. From ground to the sky, the explosion ripped in dreadful orange pillars. Tom's eyes stung. The horse kicked back nervously- and he gripped the reins even tighter- struggling to–

flip!

The damn saddle came loose under him!

Tom's eyes blazed incredulously as he doubled over- crashing down onto the earth with a hard thud. His right shoulder slammed hard against the ground, sending a sharp jutting pain through his exhausted body. Gritting his teeth on the ground, he jerked his head towards the explosion!

Both his eyes lit up- as the fiery flames reflected in his irises. Head thudding, adrenaline pumping, Tom leaped to his feet in an instant- ignoring the exploding pain in his right shoulder.

The horse, neighing nervously, trotted around in circles around him, before turning away from the towering flames, and fled in the opposite direction!

"YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!" Tom roared; "Get back here!!"

His flippant eyes turned away from the horse- glanced in the direction of the explosion, and then back at the horse again.

"Fuck it, there's no time. . ."

Gripping his right shoulder with his left arm, he ignored the horse, and struck out with his feet- charging in the direction of the fight! Hot wind blasted into his face as he tried to imagine what had happened.

"Was someone engaging the enemy?" his jaw dropped at a single thought; "Another enemy?"

He felt his right eye starting to close- and his shoulders suddenly felt like iron!

Lips sputtering, his long legs sprinted forward- dashing across the open road- heading towards the ledge of towering black trees. Tom's lungs burned in his chest. The initial burst of energy was starting to drain from both his thighs. Still, he kept his gaze trained ahead;

"Let me not be late-" he prayed under his shaky breaths; "-please, let me not be too late!"

Fifteen strides later, Tom arrived at the scene panting heavily and drenched in sweat.

A deathly calm engulfed the previously turbulent terrain. The flames had long died down. But the putrid smell of sulphur hung in the air.

Tom's eyes swept across the field. On the ground, in a nearly perfect circle, the earth had caved into a low depression! Black smoky clouds engulfed the clearing, and a pile of smoldering heaps glowed with a faint orange.

At the corner of his eye, a flicker of bright red coat flashed;

"FREEZE IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!!"

Tom barked- eyes blazing like a bloodhound;

"DO NOT MOVE!!"

Tom struck his right feet out- heading towards the aggressor with his twitching lips.

The entity had their back to Tom. The crimson red waist coat flapped in the wind, revealing long legs in loose black pants. The person did not move. They remained head down- their shoulders slumped, and at the base of their long sleeves arms, two palms were balled into fists.

"TURN AROUND–" Tom snapped, feeling his own rising anger; "–SLOWLY!!"

With the light from the glowing embers, he saw the entity's shoulders tense. Tom quickly threatened;

"I'm warning you, I will send this arrow into your back!!" he spat- even though he wasn't armed; "Turn around!!"

A male voice- as cool as breeze, sturdy, answered him;

"At ease officer, stand down."

Tom's round eyes bulged wide open. Surprise doused the fires of his anger. He knew that voice!

"Lord Reaves?" he stammered- partly in shock, partly in unbelief; "W-w-what are you doing out here?"

The tall, lean man gracefully arched out his right foot, and turned around slowly- planting his mean set of eyes on the trembling cop. His hands were busy above his waist- flipping, as he pried off the rich velvet black gloves from his fingers.

"I almost had him," Reaves said bitterly; "He was right here. . .before me. . .in my presence. . .in the flesh. . .and I let him get away. . ."

Tom blinked twice- hard and fast, trying to reconcile his thoughts. Swallowing, he asked;

"You mean the killer?" optimism dogged his tone; "The real killer?"

A hint of irritation flickered across the aristocrat's eyes;

"Of course the killer! I had him, I could have killed the son of a bitch, but he's more slippery than an eel."

Tom's eyes sank, His eyebrows arched together as he peeled his gaze away from the man towards the carnage all around him. His investigative eyes swept across the scene, thoroughly scrutinizing each detail.

But nothing seemed to answer the most pressing question on his mind;

"What are you doing out here Lord Reaves? There's been a curfew for the past week. Civilians are not to be seen outside after nightfall."

Reaves' chin slowly lifted up from his gloved hands- placing poor Tom under the intense glare of his large black eyes. Scorn, pain, and anger spilled out from his eyes. With his mouth curved in a nasty snarl, he responded;

"What sort of damned question is that?"

Is wasn't a question. Not a real one anyway.

". . .you expect me to sit at home all night? To lounge under the stars, to drink wine, to be merry- while my daughter's assailant is still roaming the streets freely?"

Tom wanted to say; or, maybe, you could try sleeping instead?

But the daggers in Reaves' eyes put him off. So, he answered diplomatically;

"I'm sorry about your daughter's unfortunate accident Lord Reaves. But I'm just a cop trying to figure out what exactly happened here."

Reaves glared down on Tom- jaws hardening on each side of his face. The collar of his crimson waist coat turned up, and his white shirt shone from underneath it. Like a human sized viper, he slithered towards the annoying cop;

"That's the difference between you and I," his tone was utterly biting; "You're trying to figure out what's happening. Me, I'm actually doing something about it."

Tom sighed. Getting into a dick measuring contest with Reaves was pointless. As a cop, if he was going to get anywhere, he would have to do it the ass-kissing way. So, he took off his sheriff hat, and placed it on his chest;

"Lord Reaves, my apologies. It was crass of me to speak in that manner–"

He bowed his head quietly and continued;

"–however, if you would be so gracious as to tell me what transpired here, it would be most helpful."

Without even looking directly Reaves face, he could tell the man's anger had diffused a little. His voice softened a little as he turned away from the cop. In his eyes, the recollection of the day's events began to play out like a montage.

He narrated to Tom in a somber voice;

"It all began with a map."

Tom's voice faded; "A map sire?"

"Yeah," he brushed him off impatiently; "I have a map of the city. . .and on it, I pinned all the last known sightings of the killer. . .along with dates. I simply cross referenced them, and was able to come up with a small radius of the area he could pop up next. . ."