In the bridge between the grand library and the intersection that connected the main balcony and the throne room, Garland stood like a stoic, immovable wall amidst hordes of four-legged ghouls.
The armor, once white as bone, lay covered in blood, and the gauntlets were smeared with red viscera. One might think it was a statue if not for the agitated breathing of bestial grunts, facing a path lined with pure gore, a warning to the plague that demonstrated neither pain nor emotions.
The horde halted their advance, much to the knight's surprise, who felt the heavy murderous instinct emanating from the hallway through which they had once entered. A single artisan soldier appeared, greeted like a king among the ghouls who made way for him, kneeling with heads bowed to the ground in silence.
He was unarmed, carrying in his hand a small cage inhabited by a deformed offspring of a hybrid between a bat and a lizard, red in color. With four blind eyes and jaws that opened in four parts as it weakly chirped, hanging from the bars with its legs; futilely gnawing at the steel to break free, sealed by a tiny rune-locked padlock at the entrance.
"You're not... an artisan. You are the cause of this," Garland growled in a deep, halting voice, as if it were difficult to articulate words.
"I have come in the name of the true king of these lands, both Valaquia and Artizan."
With a pale face, sharply defined features heavily marked by a cynical countenance perpetually smiling with arrogance. Shaved sides of the head, and a large red mohawk that ended in a braid cascading over the middle of the back when freed from the helmet.
"Who are you, and whom do you serve?" the knight growled.
"Dear knight, allow me to introduce myself as your savior or your executioner, you choose. My name is Sir Dimitri Morrison, one of the lieutenants of the great god Nosferatu, elder brother of Cesar Tepes Artizan, the disinherited one."
He bowed in a refined manner. "His glory has awakened from its slumber, and upon being overthrown by his brother in ancient times, he retains every right to the throne... much more now that he has ascended to divinity, blessed by the supreme deity."
"A new god, impossible... he died impaled," Garland raised his fists.
"Learning of this succession out of weakness enraged him, and he has declared that the Artizan crown is weak," the eloquent vampire said, "a true king must die on his throne, not flee from it when ill."
Garland noticed that Dimitri did not have visible fangs as was normal, however, his nails were too long and that poisonous color put him on alert. He glanced at the bridge, a considerable height leading to a roof; the dining hall.
"Did he send you alone?"
"And I am more than enough to take this entire fortress. This power has been granted to me by the grace of my god, something you will never have; no spark compares to the blessing of the supreme deity," Dimitri boasted arrogantly. "I propose something to you, bring me the prince's head and swear loyalty to the true king. For this simple task, I promise to grant you a position in our order."
"You speak too much... you negotiate, you praise," Garland stomped heavily in front, causing the structure to shudder, both Dimitri and his ghouls staggered. "If you were truly invincible, you wouldn't have to negotiate. That means you have limits... not all fell to your infection; you have a limit."
"And with that, I have your fortress under my command!"
The arrogant smile wavered as his body staggered from another step by Garland, and the structure cracked, sending dust tumbling. Using his infrared vision, he detected something inconceivable, that armor could not be penetrated by any kind of appreciation spell; he could not detect its identity or race, however, he perceived two vaguely similar energies in total harmony on the armor, a spark that fueled it and endowed it with enormous physical strength.
"If he sent you alone... you are a disposable pawn," Garland said, delivering another stomp that brought the vampire to his knees.
"What the hell are you?!" Dimitri entered a rage from his doubly crushed pride.
"Your executioner!"
With a high leap, Garland soared into the skies, and Dimitri rolled forward on the ground without letting go of the cage, out of range of the projectile that shattered the platform, lifting rubble like toppling ghouls, who attacked in masses from all angles; only to be sent flying by the thunderous fists of the giant, who grabbed one of them infected by the leg, using it as a club against any who stood in his way.
"This won't end like this..." Dimitri threw the cage to one of his soldiers, and grabbed the hand of another, mentally ordering him to form a chain with five more.
By a psychic command from the vampire's body emerged crimson electric sparks, the mass of the reanimated melted, joining into a huge grotesque limb full of pustules, sharp bone plates, and stretched faces turned skin in that teratoma turned arm weapon of the lieutenant.
The grotesque limb formed a heavy mass of spikes made of bones at the tip, throwing it, stretching the flesh and hitting the giant squarely in the face, pushing him backward so that the twenty ghouls could take advantage; knocked down by the twin makeshift clubs, one of them thrown over the vampire who took cover with his giant appendage.
By a psychic order, the servant unlocked the padlock with sheer force, and the door opened; the magical seal was free like the beast inside it called Grendel. What began as an enthusiastic squeal turned into a fierce roar as it emerged striding out of the prison, its head peeking out, turning into a ferocious roar due to a rapid increase in size.
Garland broke the formation of the ghouls, and faced the inevitable by concentrating all his strength into his two intertwined fists, facing the enormous beast that flapped its wings, matching the size of an elephant with the lightness of a feather and the bloodthirst of a raging lion that detected the knight as its focal point; once Dimitri scaled the tail by stretching his grotesque appendage using it as a hook.
"For Artizan!!" the knight shouted, dropping his fists onto the center of the bridge, just as a mass of beasts went after him.
"Ignite it!" Dimitri ordered once he grabbed him by the neck.
The collision of both fists destroyed the surface down to the foundations, and the bridge shattered into pieces of rubble; the knight falling along with the remaining horde into the void far from the acidic gore expelled from Grendel's jaws.
Garland hugged himself, piercing the roof upon impact, forming a huge hole covered in dust and debris, amidst the clamor of wood and concrete shattering.
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He knew he was still alive, Dimitri had faith in that thought due to the knight's enormous strength and his unnatural spark. But he didn't have the time or the resources to confirm it, fortunately, he harbored wounds that would stop him for the moment; he had to find Vlad and complete the mission.
Days before the coronation, he managed to infiltrate as just another employee among the wine barrel carriers destined for the Artizan fortress, into which he introduced a hundred and ninety larvae out of the two hundred he could produce. The original plan was to infect a vast majority of the inhabitants, including the royal family.
Late, he learned about the wine imported from Kraxus suspiciously sent for the court, and the guards; no one drank from the contaminated alcohol. And even if they had succeeded, there was the shared abstinence of the Tepes family in supporting King Orlox's detoxification from alcoholism, which degenerated into cirrhosis. Therefore, Dimitri had to improvise and adapt, spending nine larvae to penetrate the castle, saving one especially for the new monarch.
…
Vlad and Agatha descended the library stairs at an intersection of two paths, one leading to the dining hall to the right and straight ahead to the courtyard; both paths dominated by the horde contained by Sir Tudor Belfor, the black bull leading a troop of guards and servants turned into a containment wall.
The royal guard knight stood tall like a giant, almost as tall as the powerful Garland. Clad in armor so dark it consumed light, and a horned helmet that earned him his nickname. With a massive swing of his war hammer, he smashed the ribs of a ghoul, lifting it from the ground, and his body knocked down three others, at the mercy of the knives of the servant’s turned infantry for support; on the brink of breaking as they were not born for carnage.
"Maintain your position! Follow me, and I promise to keep the majority alive," a strong and imposing voice, born from a kind heart incapable of an empty promise.
Maintaining morale was a feat; they were not facing invaders from Valaquia; they were dealing with brothers, friends, lovers, and coworkers who, just a few hours ago, were laughing in celebration of a new beginning full of prosperity. Tears fell even within the prominent helmets, weapons trembled in their hands.
Like a brave bull, one had to remain calm, survive for those who couldn't, and confront that darkness to exact revenge later, to rescue those cursed as bloodthirsty beasts; an extension of the vampire.
The jingling of bells behind startled the servants, and their surprise was immense at the appearance of the king escorted by the elfin with predatory flight, soaring almost to the ceiling. With a movement of his staff, he summoned cutting wind, turning it into a nearly invisible rotating sphere of ghostly lament sent to descend upon the heart of the horde; upon contact, a small tornado lifted the infected, slamming them against the walls; ready to be finished off by Vlad's spear, who took charge.
"Rise, Artizans!" Vlad proclaimed as he skewered a ghoul from mouth to nape in mid-bite. He had to be brave, shouting inwardly that his father would have done the same. "We must defend our home at all costs."
The presence of the young monarch revived courage in the barely organized troop. Some followed hesitantly, casting distrustful glances at Agatha's presence, an act she noticed she was accustomed to as a foreigner, and such an invasion only heightened that disdain even though she had saved them; they didn't expect a different reception.
The next wave from the dominant courtyard carried improvised weapons: kitchen utensils, rocks, sticks, and anything they could find. Few carried steel and firearms. The ghouls were an extension of their master, a hive mind. What one saw quickly entered the collective knowledge.
Each could follow orders individually, moved by a weak consciousness armed by cloudy remnants of what they once were; if one was a knight, they could wield a sword, if another was a cook, they'd take a knife.
A roar echoed above the clash of Artizans and ghouls, an abominable shadow ruled the heights, lurking like a shark in the seas, evading the shots from four mounted turrets operated by two soldiers each from the towers near the courtyard; positioned by order from Tudor's helmet radio.
The area facing the shelter was a vast green field adorned with trees, and in the center, a three-tiered water fountain constantly spewing a stream. Dimitri rode Grendel with remarkable skill. Clinging to one of the spikes, the creature soared through the air out of range of each sharp-eyed flight shot that lifted the curtains like the vampire's braid.
On the vampire's non-mutated arm, he wore a technological gauntlet from which he released energy-charged gems and scribbled glyphs; a tool of Valaquia's machine lords. With a flick of his hand, he created a crystalline sphere around the dragon without halting its movement, protecting it for a few seconds from anti-aircraft bullets capable of turning a person into a red cloud. When a projectile hit the sphere, it squealed with electricity; it had to endure before needing to recharge for a few minutes, time the turrets wouldn't last.
The first turret was destroyed by Grendel's blood-like vomit that spilled over the machine and its operators, melting them inside their own armor; there was barely a scream from those huge black jaws that turned the melted heads before hardening into a smoldering ruby, under the shadow of the deformed crimson turret.
The turret shots pushed the dragon to dive for cover behind the walls, out of range of the shots; Dimitri knew he couldn't rely entirely on his shield. He deactivated it to let it cool for a few seconds before using it again; he felt like a hunter, and they were his prey. He had never felt such excitement before. The army of one man. That ominous sight weighed heavily on the morale of the Artizans, embroiled in the slaughter on the ground; if the turrets fell, they would be next.
"They would all die under a coating of beautiful ruby…" The ghoul hive spoke in unison; even sounds emerged from those missing half of their jaws; focused on the young king escorted by Tudor and Agatha. "All except you, young usurper… you will soon be part of our beautiful family."
A collective, eerie laughter, mimicking a malicious smile that chilled the blood. Vlad swung a side slash that tore off half of a demon's face in a futile attempt to stop the laughter.
"Your majesty, go to the safe room!" Tudor shouted, dispatching five spawn with a side hammer blow, making his way through. "We will hold them back."
Agatha covered by releasing a gust of wind energy that pushed the beasts. Panting, sweating, she only managed to keep her feet on the ground due to the constant onslaught of endless hordes; they had already opened a path to the shelter, but from the dining hall, new infected were about to strike them from the rear.
"I won't abandon anyone! There's no king without a kingdom."
Vlad fired the lance rays at any infected approaching, taking cover behind one of the trees. The grass was covered in so much entrails, and the fountain spilled red water due to the number of bodies fallen within; humans and ghouls.
"None of these monsters will advance as long as we stand." Tudor remained determined, always by the king's side, with sheer force from his hammer. "You must live for your father, Your Majesty."
Vlad's heart skipped a beat at the fall of the second turret, bathed in burning red acid and crystallized into ruby. The screams of each soldier fallen while protecting him pierced his ears, eclipsed by the hive mind's laughter used as psychological weapons and finally cut off by a scream of horror, reflecting Dimitri's feeling.
The vampire noticed Garland sprinting on all fours like a gorilla between the melted turrets; cracked armor and covered in dust mixed with red, but alive. He paused for a few seconds to throw debris torn with his own hands at the dragon in mid-flight, forcing him to evade another concern.
With the flickering barrier of electric webs activated, he changed his strategy. By mental command, he had several nearby ghouls invade the remaining turret areas, located in the shelter tower and on the floor near the library. He regained control, unaware that this moment of doubt sparked an idea in the young king, weary and exhausted from the endless battle, yet his mind remained sharp.
"Clear the way! Agatha, I entrust the king to you," Tudor bellowed, smashing any ghoul that stood in their path now that they had opened the way, allowing Vlad and Agatha to enter the path to the shelter, leaving behind the improvised militia.
Entering the corridor, there were two paths with walls splattered with blood: ahead, a staircase leading to a bomb-proof bunker, and to the right, spiral stairs next to a closed elevator leading to the turret.
"Vlad! What are you waiting for?" Agatha called out, attentive to the surroundings, nervousness rising at the king's indecision standing between the two paths.
"Agy..." he said solemnly before turning to her, his eyes reflecting an iron will. "Is it true that you have a psychic connection with Garland?"
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