Vampire offspring are produced at a much lower rate in comparison to other races. Despite the minimal restrictions such as vulnerability to light and the constant need for blood, their overall abilities make them a much more superior race in comparison to others. This is likely due to the high rates of infertility amongst the nocturnal species. Those who are descendants of full-blooded vampires, which comprise most of the noble clans in Wisperium, show no signs of infertility. However, those who are turned into vampires instead of born display significantly higher rates of impotence. Another factor to consider is the energy expenditure in the birthing of a vampire. Non-vampire mothers are 80% more likely to die during childbirth due to the difficulty. The resources required to raise a child of vampire origins are significantly higher, and Wisperium's culture has shown the massive amounts of investment they put into raising their offspring. Although the chances of vampires becoming widespread is low, the possibility raises fears about Wisperium expanding their territories outside of the Arcadian Forest.

~ Raising a Vampire for Dummies by Julie Locktin

In their intense duel to the death, the vampire contractor froze in his tracks. It caught everybody's attention, for his face turned into one of shock and disbelief. The battle raged on all sides, but nothing especially noteworthy was occurring. Nobody besides the white mage at his back could hear the soft, almost soundless whisper from thin air.

'Tinder and Kang are dead. The mission is a failure. Retreat to these coordinates for immediate withdrawal.'

Before Delont could respond, the voice disappeared as though it were his imagination. But he knew better. Making eye contact with his fellow contractor, they both realized what they had to do.

"Soldiers, fall back! Follow to-"

BOOM

The ballista situated at the entrance was destroyed by a wave of shadows. Damien Rose and his squadron of soldiers broke a hole through their ranks and managed to incapacitate the ones protecting and manning the siege weapon. His contributions to the battle had been massive, eliminating factors that were instrumental to the defender's victory. The two demon contractors were too far to interfere and realized how dire the situation became.

"Irene, we won't be able to retreat properly. Go. I'll hold them off."

"Are you insane? We're barely holding on with just us two, you'll die if-"

Jensen and Natalia were not idle, having approached them in a pincer formation and blocking off any avenues for retreat. The most prevalent issue was Natalia's weakened abilities without her familiar fighting alongside her. Her physical abilities were not up to par with combat classes around her level, and it showed against enemies specced for melee combat.

A glowing, white shield stopped the Lieutenant General's axes and Delont brought his spear down the beastmaster's head. She barely managed to withstand the blow thanks to her fortified armguards but widened her eyes upon seeing the vampire berserker bite his own tongue.

"FOESPLITTHER!" He yelled with a slight lisp, and the force behind the blow went up by a magnitude. A plume of dust rose from their clash, and Natalia was flung into the surrounding army, bleeding profusely from her arm. Or rather, what was left of it.

Jensen felt as though time crawled to a halt as his superior's body landed on the floor. Her face was twisted in pain, and her pristine hair was now matted with dirt and debris. The stump where her left arm used to be was burned into the man's memory. With every millisecond passed, the pupils of his eye became dark red and he became overwhelmed with rage.

"Curse of Binding."

His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. But it was enough to activate his skill and restrain the rampaging vampire's movements. Delont managed to raise the shaft of his spear, blocking the ax headed for his neck. The ferocity behind the swing pushed him back and left a significant scratch on the weapon's handle. He cast a small glance over his shoulder, ignoring the enraged Lieutenant General in favor of speaking to Irene.

"Go. I'll catch up with you."

Hearing his calm voice made the elf pause, and she grit her teeth before looking away. Delont focused on his opponent once more, who began to bleed from the mouth after biting his lip too hard. His calm expression faded away in favor for a cocky one, and his eyes gained a similar red hue.

"I'll be your dancing partner for a while."

The female contractor began to head towards the back, regaining control of the foot soldiers and taking down anybody who dared come her way. Irene's trek was halted by a younger boy clad in armor. The damaged shield and ominous, black sword in his hands were raised and ready for combat. His squad had their weapons at the ready along with spells being prepared to fly at a moment's notice.

"Surrender," Damien said in a firm voice. He meant it fully, knowing that the longer the battle continued the more people would die. Under his command, one dwarven soldier had fallen and he couldn't let the loss affect him. Eyeing the light elemental mage, she seemed almost annoyed at his appearance.

"Get out of my way, brat. Refraction."

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You have been blinded for 5 seconds.

Bulwark of Darkness has counteracted some of the effects.

Marbas' Analysis has counteracted Bulwark of Darkness.

You have been stunned for 1 second.

'She's much stronger than the poison master!'

His eyes stung and almost made him drop his weapons in agony. Any people caught within the skill's radius suffered the same fate. Damien threw a Shadowbolt from where he last saw her location, but her voice signified to him that she was unharmed.

"Moon Light Storm!"

While blinded, Damien could hear beams of energy being sent out from all angles followed by tortured screams of those caught in the crossfire. The constant projectiles made his armor heat up despite being insulated well and he tried to minimize the damage by hiding behind his damaged shield.

"Shadowshield!"

As a secondary layer of protection, the shield he summoned was large enough to protect some of his squadron. Their mana shields weren't powerful enough to withstand the several light beams and suffered from painful burns all across their skin. In the fight against light and darkness, Damien's shadows were quickly incinerated due to the stark difference in strength. He remembered a similar situation occurring in Elway when the Archmage supposedly fended off Duke Warner's widescale skill.

"WOOF!"

Maxwell rushed in, attempting to disrupt the woman's skills. She stepped back to avoid the pouncing attack and wordlessly cast an even larger beam of light to take out Damien's canine companion in a single blow.

Your Shadow Servant has been dispelled.

In seconds, the remaining footsoldiers began to push back against Damien and the others. Over a dozen enemies swarmed their position, and due to the elemental barrage, they were weakened and stunned.

'The Archbishop was right. I would've been useless in a battle against them. Even with our numbers, we couldn't do anything against the light mage.'

For a moment, he had believed his hard work, talent, and equipment would bridge the gap in status. But a second-stage class with the proper experience and capabilities made light work (no pun intended) of him despite his supposed potential. Damien's pride and ego were battered, nevertheless, he focused on the battle at hand and rallied his squadron together.

"Follow me! I'll cut down a path back to our allies! SHADOW SMITE!"

In a scene of rushing bodies and endless amounts of enemies, Damien barely got a read of where he was relative to the rest of his allies. The chaos had messed with his sense of space. Keeping as far away from the demon contractor, he pushed through relentlessly but noticed that very few of the invaders were actually engaging him in battle, it seems as though their entire focus had shifted to retreat.

Blood ran down his forehead. Damien's eyes were strained after the blinding attack, and the mental fatigue was beginning to add up. But he refused to look weak. For himself, for the people behind him who placed their lives on him. Letting out a yell of determination, he pushed through, blocking weapons, skills, and magic and countering with his own until he came across one of his kind. A beast tamer whom he didn't know the name of.

"Bloody hell, get in! You look like crap."

His breathing was heavy and he barely managed to push past and lead his squadron to safety. Their formations closed in on them, and Damien allowed himself to relax imperceptibly and collapse to his knees. He watched as the rest of his party fell within and quickly noticed that another one of their soldiers was missing. In the short period he had spent with them, he found it necessary to know each of his party members by name.

'Valden. Where is he? I had seen him with us not even a moment ago.'

Damien didn't want to ask. He knew the likely answer already. His mind was filled with doubts and anxieties. He blamed himself.

'I could've used a better formation. Maybe if I paid more attention, he wouldn't be gone. Why? I should've been there. I should've taken his place.'

His thoughts spiraled downward into destructive thinking, and it was followed by immense guilt. Damien was glad for his helmet. It covered his erratic breathing and devastated expression. The boy's hands trembled, and he tried to quell the shaking to avoid looking weak. He didn't want to show an unsightly image to his squadron. He knew the importance of keeping up appearances for the sake of morale.

"Leader! Damien!"

He was snapped out of his thoughts by one of his party members. Damien looked at them and asked what was wrong. Their faces weren't one of anger or blame as he expected, but a worried look that showed he was not able to hide all his anxieties.

"You're looking quite pale, we should take you to the healers."

Damien deflected their questioning. "That's just my natural skin tone. Go back to the healers and get yourselves patched up. I-I need to help the Lieutenant-General."

They looked amongst themselves, uneasy about the idea of letting him return to the frontlines. But they knew there was little they could do to stop him. He didn't have an official rank in their army, and his lineage made him hard to order around. As the vampire boy brought himself together, he heard another shout and turned to see his entire squad bow their heads.

"Thank you, sir Rose!"

"Your ability to command was on par with a seasoned veteran."

A shower of praise rained down upon the boy. He froze in shock, and he turned his head back and avoided their expressions. Nobody blamed him or uttered a single criticism about his leadership.

"Thank you."

Damien hoped they didn't hear the waver in his voice.

Traveling through the crowds of soldiers, he finally came across the battle between the last remaining contractor. Delont, the vampire contractor of unknown origins was single-handedly dominating the battle. Without the support of his allies, he dodged and deflected any spell or projectile coming his way. The soldiers didn't dare risk hitting the Lieutenant General, only firing when they were certain it wouldn't strike their own commander.

"Shadowbolt!"

A particularly large bolt of dark power whizzed past Delont's face. It was more potent than anything he'd received up till this point, and his eyes caught a shorter figure standing beside Jensen Vernicus.

"Lieutenant General, are you okay?"

He responded with a nod, but the fact his eyes never left their opponent along with the death grip on his ax made it clear he was far from calm. The invading army had managed to withdraw, with only a scant few remaining behind. One of them was Irene, who allowed dozens of the surviving foot soldiers to pass through while she protected their rear. Her emerald-green eyes glimmered, staring at the broad back of her fellow contractor.

With one last parting gift, the tome in her hands began flipping through the pages and a beam of ethereal white light pierced through the man's armor. He visibly flinched but relaxed upon feeling all his wounds heal. His eyes became clearer and more focused, but he didn't look back. He simply waved the spear behind him. A simple farewell.

And with that, Delont was the only one who remained, standing against the entirety of Welton's defense. His face contained no signs of apprehension. The vampire looked at peace as if he had already accepted the outcome of this battle. He stayed by the massive doorways that lead to the outside, placing the shaft of his spear on the floor and waiting as hundreds of eyes stared at him with caution, fear, and resentment.

"Well? Come on, at me now. Valhalla awaits."