Orlaith stretched her wings and cracked her neck, bracing herself for what was to come. Before her stood two women: one enveloped by a horde of spirits, her skin marked with the fresh bites of a newly turned vampire; the other, unmistakably Aurelia, who had decimated the Kingdom of Slaethia a hundred years ago. The fledgling vampire was of little concern to the Champion of Zarathos; Aurelia posed the real challenge. Glancing up at the lunar eclipse, Orlaith clicked her tongue in irritation. She knew that with Celestis, the other moon, trailing them around Völuspá, daylight—the one thing that could weaken the vampiress—wouldn’t come to her aid.
In her long centuries of life, Orlaith had never encountered Aurelia, nor had she heard of the vampire until the destruction of the backwater Kingdom of Slaethia on this distant, dark moon. Initially, she cared little for the events here, merely obeying her god’s command to intervene on behalf of the Empire’s grander schemes. However, that changed after the mana explosion at the dungeon ruins of the Grotto of the Betrayed. The detonation had nearly killed her—it should have—but instead, it left her utterly crippled. Were it not for Zarathos’ draconic blessing, she would no longer be fit to serve as his champion.
Glancing at the mound of corpses where the source of her humiliation—the cause of the mana detonation—now gorged on the flesh of slain Slaethians, a torrent of revulsion and fury overwhelmed Orlaith’s essence. However, before she could confront the root of her anger, she had to deal with the two before her now. With another sharp crack of her neck, she made her move.
Sophia blinked; one second Orlaith was there, the next, she was gone. A loud boom rang out beside the fledgling vampire as the dragoness’s fist slammed into a spirit’s shield. Sophia had been too slow to match her foe’s speed. She wasn’t just a combatant; she was a Dark Acolyte, a necromancer—no, that wasn’t quite right either. Amidst the clash with the enemy champion, Sophia realized that the ghosts fighting on her behalf were no longer mere spirits; they were Dreamwraiths. There were more changes to her status sheet, but she didn’t have time to review them as Orlaith continued to battle her wraiths. Forced to react, Sophia slid back behind her protectors, who were materializing as fast as the champion could destroy them.
However, amidst the sea of destruction unfolding before her, with wraiths being destroyed in flames and swiftly replaced by others, Sophia smiled; this was far from a stalemate. Suddenly, Aurelia appeared beside the woman with the same terrifying, unfollowable speed. Another boom rang out as the two juggernauts clashed, sending dirt and debris into the air around them. Wraiths tumbled and rolled away, only to regain their footing and charge right back into the fray.
Amid the chaos, Orlaith released a roar that was abruptly cut short by a curse as she ducked to avoid a clawed swipe aimed at her face. At the same time, she weaved out of the way of three ghostly blades descending toward her neck. In that instant, realizing she was at a disadvantage and swallowing her pride, she summoned an elemental barrier of flame around herself. Furious at herself for fighting like a mindless warrior, letting her anger guide her, she remembered she was a fire sorceress.
Sensing impending danger, Sophia channeled her Dreamwraiths to form a protective line before her, shielding the mound of corpses behind her that were slowly being consumed. The wraiths emitted a ghostly pale green light, each brandishing a phantasmal specter of a shield. Then it happened.
Orlaith’s barrier ignited, and a wave of flames spread out from the champion, transforming the battlefield into a nightmarish apocalyptic scene. With supernatural grace, Aurelia leapt over the flickering tongues of fire that washed over the ground. She flipped and spun through the air, landing with her eyes locked on Orlaith’s as the two faced off in a tense showdown.
The wave of fire struck Sophia’s wraiths’ front line, effectively blocking the flames from advancing beyond her. With a nervous gulp, the fledgling glanced back and noticed Blake was unharmed, nonchalantly continuing her meal amidst the chaos. Sophia felt a twinge of envy, wishing she possessed Blake’s unshakeable confidence. Yet, in this tumultuous clash, she felt utterly outmatched, questioning the Crone’s judgment in placing so much faith in her abilities. Safeguarding Blake seemed to be all she could manage, and it dawned on her that perhaps this had been the plan all along.
Orlaith lunged at Aurelia, wings outstretched, as she soared upward before swooping down, her flaming claws poised for a devastating strike. Sensing the imminent danger, Aurelia rolled aside at the last second, narrowly avoiding the dragoness’s claws, which scraped the ground where she had just stood. The ground erupted where Orlaith’s claws struck, hurling shards of molten rock into the air. With a smirk, Orlaith quickly redirected her momentum, slashing out in the direction Aurelia had dodged, and launched a fireball at the vampire.
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Regaining her footing, Aurelia hissed and extended her hands, unleashing a barrage of dark energy towards Orlaith’s spell. Fire clashed with darkness, resulting in an explosion that staggered Sophia, who now found herself reduced to the role of a mere observer as she guarded Blake.
The dragoness countered with a mighty roar, charging through the cloud of darkness and fire with determination. As the chaotic elements dissipated into harmless smoke, Aurelia rushed forward, and the two women came face to face, locking eyes in a silent battle of wills. Orlaith’s fury flared as she noticed the smirk playing on the vampire’s lips.
Before Orlaith could react, a forceful slap across her face sent her tumbling across the ground for several meters, leaving a trail of her own fire in her wake. As she struggled to her feet, Orlaith coughed up a spurt of blood and fixed a fierce glare on her opponent. Amidst her rising fury, a sharp pang of annoyance struck her—she had dropped the dungeon core somewhere during the fray.
A silent curse escaped Orlaith’s lips as her eyes scanned the battlefield. Yet, she couldn’t spot the core amongst the smoldering flames and ash that coated everything. Regrettably, she couldn’t linger on this thought for long, as Aurelia suddenly vanished from sight. Orlaith didn’t so much see as feel the blow coming. With a powerful flap of her wings, she attempted to evade a lethal blast of necrotic magic—or so she thought. But as she tried to ascend, only one wing responded.
It took a moment for the pain to register fully in Orlaith’s mind. Glancing over her shoulder, her worst fears were confirmed: Aurelia had sheared off her left wing. A cry of agony escaped her lips as she staggered, struggling to maintain balance.
Sophia watched in amazement as Aurelia turned the tide of the battle—or so it seemed. In truth, it appeared Aurelia had been toying with the enemy champion the entire time. Turning her gaze, Sophia marveled at the Black Pudding woman casually finishing the last morsels of her gruesome meal. A wave of revulsion washed over her at the sight of Blake devouring a mix of elf, dwarf, and human corpses. Yet, Sophia couldn’t truly judge; after all, she was now a vampire herself. She knew she would have plenty of her own opportunities to kill and drink blood.
A loud cry of pain caught Sophia’s attention, and she pulled her eyes back to the battle. Aurelia had dragged her claws across the champion’s face. Lines of blood dripped down as the vampiress pulled back to lick her fingers with a slow grin.
Orlaith charged, hurling fireball after fireball, but each one harmlessly missed Aurelia, who moved with a speed that outpaced the dragoness’s spells. Sophia realized the battle was effectively over. Aurelia would either pierce Orlaith with a sharp claw to draw blood or slash her flesh, all while ensuring the champion could see the vampire savoring the taste of her blood.
This torment continued far longer than necessary as Aurelia toyed mercilessly with her prey. Orlaith staggered, a bloody mess, her arms limp after Aurelia had ruthlessly slashed her tendons. Sophia, unsure whether the champion was human or dragonkin, found herself pitying Orlaith as the once-formidable warrior fell to her knees, coughing up blood. It seemed all was lost. Aurelia approached with a sinister grace, grasped one of Orlaith’s horns, and yanked her head back to expose her vulnerable neck.
Aurelia didn’t even offer the dignity of final words, much less an insult, as she went for the killing blow—suddenly, an eruption of fire like that of a volcano exploded out from beneath the two. The blast rippled outward, incinerating most of Sophia’s Dreamwraiths as they struggled to protect both her and Blake behind her. In the distance, in the city above, screams could be heard as buildings crumbled and airships crashed.
Within the ash-filled cloud that blotted the eclipsed sky, two massive wings extended from the darkness. A booming roar echoed, causing Sophia to cover her ears in agony while her eyes frantically searched for Aurelia. To her horror, she couldn’t find her maker. Then, large talons emerged from the ash, cradling Orlaith as gently as if she were a small mouse.
Sophia stumbled back, falling as she did. Her gaze kept going up and up, until her eyes went round as she finally noticed the massive dragon head emerging from the volcanic soot within the cloud. She couldn’t tell if it reminded her of a traditional dragon or a Trex; all she knew was that the thing could go toe-to-toe with Godzilla.
Its other paw extended out, two talons poised as if about to pinch something, and Sophia noticed a small black orb flying up from the ground in the distance, coming into the beast’s grasp.
A soft whispering behind Sophia caught her attention, and with jittering reluctance, she tore her gaze from the dragon to investigate the source. Much to her surprise, standing over the black blob of liquid that was Blake, was a little girl crouched and whispering something indiscernible. The girl herself was unusual; her skin resembled dark ash with visible cracks all over, and her eyes were terrifying, resembling endless voids. Yet, she wore a pink princess dress and had a matching puff of pink hair on her head.
“W-Who are you?” Sophia stammered, feeling a deeper fear for this small child, who couldn’t be older than nine, than for the massive dragon.
Much to her relief, the little girl didn’t even bother to acknowledge her. However, Sophia could now hear the soft whispering being uttered: “Devour. Devour it all—the mana, your spells, your abilities, your skills! Don’t stop until it’s all been devoured.”