All healers are not made equal. Every person has a certain limit to which they can recover through the use of spells and potions. One a person has reached that limit, the effectiveness of healing magic goes down exponentially. This is why hospitals and healers work hand in hand; mundane healing methods such as surgery and medicine are capable of saving lives when healing cannot. Higher level priests have skills that override the healing limit, but finding a person of that level is exceedingly rare. Adventurers must realize that healing magic is not a cure-all, but merely a stopgap until their body is properly allowed to rest and recuperate.
~ Misunderstandings of Healing Magic by Gownther Laurel
The battle was fairly straightforward. All the soldiers employed familiar tactics under the command of Archbishop Romero and Jensen. The soldiers fell onto the last remaining invader like a tidal wave of metal and iron. Dwarves armed with the thickest armor withstood his terrible hits while their most talented mages flung powerful spells. Delont fought like a madman, but the numbers proved to be far too much for him to handle and he was being whittled down like a rock in the rushing rapids.
"I'll give chase to the invaders. Archie says he's ready to go." Natalia said, putting her only hand on her waist. Archbishop Romero had fixed her wounds but even his healing wasn't enough to restore limbs. Despite the grievous injuries she sustained Natalia didn't look tired but angered and impatient.
"You shouldn't. It's far too risky to let you out there without any reinforcements." Jensen responded. Even though his face returned to the same, solemn expression he always wore, there was a hint of weariness that the Lieutenant General couldn't hide. He kept a close eye on the battle as the cuts and bruises on the demon contractor's figure began to increase.
General Drake seemed to take that personally, and her forehead veins began to bulge out in anger. "When could you order me around, Vernicus? You think because I lost an arm in battle, I'm some dainty little princess that needs to be saved? Is that it?"
The woman's temper was rather short, and Damien couldn't help but notice the way she tried to shield her severed arm from view. He knew that his surrogate aunt was lashing out due to the situation she was in, as he had felt the same shame and insecurity when he was disposed of so easily by the elven light mage. Jensen's face didn't even twitch before turning towards Archbishop Romero.
"Archbishop, may you come with her and provide support? I will stay here with Damien and finish off the vampire contractor."
"I don't need a fucking babysi-"
"General, I think that'll be the best course of action." The high-ranking priest said. He had pocketed his glasses in favor of pinching the bridge of his nose. "We don't know what surprise or ambush is out there. If they could transport an entire army to our doorstep, what's stopping them from doing it again? We need precautionary measures to ensure neither you nor our elite forces are caught in an ambush."
That pacified Natalia and she bit back a retort. Archbishop Romero raised a lot of points that pushed towards the conclusion chasing wasn't even worth it. But Natalia was adamant about capturing those who dared to attack Welton. The broken bodies of their enemies and allies were strewn about the battlefield, and some had been successfully carted off the battlefield. The blank faces and unmoving corpses made Damien avert his eyes, unwilling to look until he recognized someone.
With some more chatter, they managed to get a rough estimate of the forces they'd need to chase down the fleeing intruders. Grabbing the most powerful select members, eight people rode atop Archie's back and squeezed in to ensure none of them would fall off. Major General Brigatin, Romero, and a smattering of vampires and Pernatia's paladins grabbed a hold of the massive saddle on top of the black panther's back. His movement was slightly impacted, but it was a testament to the animal's strength that he was able to jump from building to building.
General Drake stared at Damien and Jensen from a higher vantage point, giving them a firm nod. "Good luck."
"Don't think you're getting away!"
Delont blasted back the forces surrounding him with a massive roar, empowered by the effects of his berserker class and gaining upon the black panther. Jensen dashed forward to collide with the contractor and Damien sent a Shadowbolt spell to slow him down. But just before any of them could react their opponent thrust his spear forward and sent out a magically charged lightning bolt from the tip of his elemental weapon.
BZZZT!
It crashed harmlessly against the translucent barrier surrounding Archie, and Romero looked down at the vampire contractor in contempt. The barrier was much denser than before thanks to its reduced radius, showcasing the full extent of the Archbishop's power. Delont cursed after letting the panther scale the walls and begin the chase, but couldn't do anything about it as the Lieutenant General and the Prince of Wisperium brought their weapons down on him.
The rest of the soldiers fell back with spells and skills at the ready. Most of them were aware that their interference could impede their commander's battle. Jensen's axes were stopped with ease, but Damien's sword blow went unguarded.
"Rip and Tear!"
Damien could barely process the fact his sword blow did almost nothing to the opponent before the spear was driven into his gut. The pain made it seem as though his armor was bypassed in the process and he hacked up blood. The Lieutenant-General fended off three blows before being overwhelmed by the man's skill.
"Blood Maledict. Curse of-"
Jensen's spell was cut off by Delont grabbing his throat. The youngest vampire intervened with his most powerful spell, Shadow Smite. The grip on Jensen's neck loosened and he fell to the floor with a visible imprint on his throat. As the shadows subsided, it revealed the contractor was relatively unharmed and irritated. His eyes finally landed on Damien and he felt a shiver of fear down his spine.
Delont towered over the boy by half a meter, but it felt like he was much larger than that. With his strongest attack having been withstood so easily, Damien remembered the crushing despair he felt in the underground tunnels of Stillwater. His breathing quickened, and he immediately retreated to where the Lieutenant General was.
The berserker scoffed, furrowing his brows and looking at the boy with a mix of disdain and anger. "This is it? The most prestigious bloodline of Wisperium is a coward?"
The boy held himself together, ignoring the man's words. He knew there was a lot more at stake if he lost his cool and looked to the Lieutenant General for instructions. Jensen clenched his jaw, unwilling to let his eyes off the man for even one moment. His short-cut hair was a mess, and blood pooled down his face as a result of the clash.
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"Don't go recklessly. Watch for an opportunity and strike."
He formed the cross symbol with his blood, using his thumb as a brush and his forehead as a canvas. Damien watched as the Lieutenant General dove forward and engaged in battle once more. Damien poured his entire focus into the battle, letting everything fade to the background as he watched their every move. Jensen and Delont were on another level, and the boy struggled to count the number of blows they exchanged.
'How can I interfere? What do I have? Strength? Speed? Endurance? Intelligence? Experience?'
He ran through every possible aspect of combat and quickly found his self-confidence deteriorating. The gap in their abilities was like a canyon. Before Damien's grip on reality weakened, a familiar voice shouted in his head.
'When you're in a fight with a man, always go for the balls!'
He couldn't believe the person he remembered during his time of need was the tricky illusionist. Damien remembered just how the curly-haired thief managed to push him to his limit despite being objectively worse at combat; Chester never played fair. Every single tactic, dirty trick, and taunt added up and evened out the playing field in their spars.
'Win at all costs.' He lowered his sword, watching as the demon contractor was restrained by bloody tendrils of magic. 'I have to win at all costs. '
Delont broke free of the restraints but got a flying disc of metal to the face. The damage was largely superficial, but the amount of blood coming out of his nose was significant. He opened his eyes to the vampire boy dropped low to the ground, almost at level with the taller man's knees with both hands on his cold iron blade. A charged attack pointed at his groin enveloped the two in darkness, and Jensen dove in to capitalize on the opening the boy had given them.
"HAHAHAHAHA! WHERE'D THAT COME FROM, LITTLE MAN?"
His spear blurred, nailing Jensen in the head and bringing him down with a single hit. Delont's pale skin was tinged red, and his entire body seemed to have bulged and swollen due to a mysterious skill. Damien lay on the ground, recovering from the impact of his attempted attack. A bright flash of light covered his vision and electricity arced throughout his body, making him scream in pain as thousands upon thousands of volts roasted him inside and out.
You are paralyzed for 3 seconds.
"Protect them!"
Dozens of spells fell upon the rampaging berserker, but none were strong enough to tie him up. Several soldiers stood their ground despite knowing death was inevitable, placing themselves in front of the injured vampires. A single swing of his javelin took multiple lives, and he did it while dodging attacks from all sides. The army knew they were merely a stopgap while their commanders recovered.
Jensen's left eye was compromised, and he winced upon feeling the wound. A few healing spells were cast on both of them, and Damien's body finally stopped seizing. He let out a massive breath, as his entire body kickstarted itself back to life.
"Prioritize Damien. I will return to battle. This berserker is not normal. He is likely borrowing the demon's power."
The boy grabbed him by the shoulder, resisting the urge to collapse and maintaining a firm expression.
"I can fight. Hurry, before more die."
"HAHAHAHA!" Delont's body grew bigger to the point that his armor no longer fit him. The adamantium chest plate fell off and landed on the floor with a massive thud. The straps holding his gauntlets together snapped off, and his entire upper body was exposed. Something was happening to him, and blood began streaming down his mouth and eyes as the skill ran its course throughout his body.
Seeing their chance, the soldiers flung even more spells than before. But it proved fruitless. His spear held some anti-magic properties and nullified anything that came his way. He twirled the staff and created a makeshift shield that deflected everything from all sides. He was too fast and too strong for any of their skills to have an effect.
"Taunt!"
Damien emanated an aura that caught Delont's attention. He knew that there was little chance of the skill working on a sapient being, but seeing the frenzied expression on the contractor's face made him seem more beast-like than anything else. His eyes were glassy, as though he wasn't even fully conscious.
Like a battering ram, the man dove forward with relentless drive. He pushed past multiple soldiers and ignored the minor injuries he received in the process. Damien watched him with rising anxiety, raising his guard and keeping his chin tucked to avoid any critical hits.
'Trust your allies. Trust the Lieutenant General.'
Blood-red whips attached themselves to the berserker, slowing him down. He turns his head upwards to see Jensen Vernicus with only one working eye, trying to behead him once and for all.
Despite all the restrictions placed on him, Delont managed to raise his weapon just in time, allowing the shaft of his spear to smack across his forehead. Jensen struggled, burying his boots into the floor as the contractor fought back. His smile disappeared quickly as he noticed a large load of mana charging up right in front of him. Jensen used his entire body to block his vision of the younger vampire behind his back.
Invest 30 points into STR? Y/N
A wave of darkness sapped the man of his energy and health, cutting across his torso without much resistance. Contrary to Damien's belief, his spell contained an insane amount of power relative to someone of his level; the adamantium plates protecting the man's body simply proved to be too much of an obstacle and made it seem as though Shadow Smite was ineffective.
But it wasn't over yet. Clutching his blade and forgoing mana exhaustion, Damien drove the sword through the man's chest with his newfound strength, managing to pierce where his heart should've been.
The reddish hue on the contractor's skin immediately began to fade away, and consciousness returned to his eyes. He dropped the spear to his sides, staring at the boy who managed to end his life with glistening black eyes. His lips curled upward, making the boy think he had something up his sleeve.
"I was wrong. You're a tough bastard."
The whistling sound of a sharpened blade cut through the air, and Delont's head fell to the floor.
You have slain True Origin Vampire (level 55)
You have leveled up! You are now level 32.
You have leveled up! You are now level 33.
You have leveled up! You are now level 34.
You have leveled up! You are now level 35.
Damien collapsed to the floor. He had pushed past his limits several times to get to this point. There was nothing more he could give. He took off his helmet and exhaled loudly, closing his eyes and trying to recover as much energy as he could. The Lieutenant-General was still on the move, collecting the spear and splitting the army into groups to do whatever tasks they needed. A portion of them went to chase after the invaders while the rest went on to collect the bodies of the fallen, etc.
But there was no rest for the wicked. Distant murmurs and shouts of alarm brought Damien back to focus. The soldiers made a path for the people hurriedly approaching the commander, and the younger vampire quickly realized it was Arber Fistpig and Alda Bloodsong. The legendary blacksmith looked worse for wear and carried someone on his back although it wasn't visible from where Damien was seated.
"You have to help him! We need a healer! Potions don't work anymore!"
The half-dwarven general was panicking, and Damien's heart began to thud out of his ears as the identity of the one on Arber's back was revealed.
Matted, curly, brown hair. Gauze was wrapped around his neck but blood seeped out and dyed the entire thing red. The man's skin was pale, matching that of an average vampire's. It felt like time stopped as Damien saw Chester for the first time since the battle started.
Jensen didn't even hesitate. He rode on the back of a beast tamer's horse and made a mad dash for the exit, trying to get a hold of Archbishop Romero. Several healers from the backline settled the injured man down and cast several healing spells, but his face remained pale and unmoving.
"Our spells have a limit! He's already received too much healing! We need the Archbishop!"
Damien stepped forward and looked at the man's serene expression. It looked as though he was sleeping. The vampire rarely saw him so calm. Everything felt numb for some reason. The vampire felt like he was wading through mud, and the urgent shouts and voices were being drowned out. For some reason he couldn't stop staring at Chester. His still body and discolored skin. The numerous wounds he sported across his body, both minor and major. Damien committed it to memory.
He felt disconnected from reality. Vertigo made it seem as though the world was tilting up and down. Damien fell to his knees, right in front of his fallen friend. The mental strain the battle placed on him was immense, and seeing Chester was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Damien's world slowly faded into black, and the last thing he heard was the concerned voices of Alda and the soldiers surrounding him.