In the center of the abandoned camp stands a woman, veiled in black, exuding extravagance. Her attire, predominantly in red and black velvet, epitomizes the standard of old aristocratic fashion.
Her face, pale and lifeless, appears as if crafted from porcelain under the flickering torchlight, lending her an air of eerie coldness that seems to chill the surrounding atmosphere.
Clutching an ornate sword with a golden hilt, the stark contrast between the gold and her pallid complexion creates a jarring sensation.
"You have destroyed my servants, humans, but I can offer you a chance for redemption."
Although her tone is lofty and her words elegant, her voice lacks vitality, sounding mechanical and somber, akin to the hum of machinery.
Arien recognizes her as non-human but refrains from any hasty actions, bound by the code of chivalry that prevents him from attacking a woman without knowing her true strength.
"Madam, please forgive us. We have not encountered the 'servants' you speak of. Could you describe them?"
As he speaks, Arien tightens his grip on the sword hilt, poised to strike the woman's heart. His companions behind him tense, ready for imminent combat.
"My servants are unlike yours; they lack life and blood, only..."
The woman's gaze drifts over the faces of the companions, indifferent to the approaching mercenaries, until her eyes lock onto Arien's.
"If you are willing to become a new servant, I am willing to forget about those who have already decayed. How about it?"
A seductive yet elegant smile graces the woman's lips, revealing sharp canine teeth between the vibrant red.
"Um... Madam, forgive me, but I do not understand what you are talking about. I am bound by loyalty and cannot betray my oath to become your servant."
The mercenaries, recruited by Avi and Rafe, are mere peasants who have only heard of various myths, monsters, and beasts in stories without truly knowing what they are.
The companions, however, have received rigorous education in Imperial nobility, knowing from books and records what vampires are like—the very image of the woman before them: greedy, lifeless, pale, and cold.
But she appears quite feeble, maintaining restraint and caution among just over twenty humans, even attempting deceit through words. Undoubtedly, she must lack power at the moment.
"I can turn you into my 'thing' at any time, but you are more valuable, worth a few more words from me."
The woman extends her left hand towards Arien. "Join me, and I can grant you eternal life and power."
Arien cautiously twitches his fingers, still able to move his body as he wishes, indicating that the vampire has not employed illusions.
This action leads the vampire to believe that Arien is somewhat tempted, so she steps closer, continuing to entice him. "This world will eventually perish, and I can protect you to survive its ultimate demise. Think about it: what use is being trapped in your fragile human shell?"
"Under the protection of Sigmar, we can overcome all obstacles!"
Unable to tolerate the vampire's talk of destruction, Arien leaps towards her, hands tightly gripping the sword hilt. The reflected firelight streaks through the air like a silver line as the sword quickly pierces the vampire's chest.
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Unfortunately, the slight intervention of fate causes the sword of the companion to miss by a hair's breadth, barely grazing the already dead heart of the vampire as it exits her back, failing to inflict fatal damage.
The mercenaries and companions cry out in unison, rushing forward to help Arien kill the enemy. However, the vampire immediately spreads her arms, releasing a bewitching black mist that envelops the abandoned camp.
Affected by the high concentration of intoxicating mist, people become sluggish, their limbs paralyzed. The soldiers charging forward collapse, watching helplessly as Arien, also paralyzed, is embraced by the vampire.
"Help—!" A mercenary cries out with all his remaining strength before collapsing limply to the ground, unable to take any further action.
The vampire smirked seductively, drawing her crimson lips closer to Arien's neck. At such proximity, Arien caught a whiff of the putrid stench and metallic tang of blood, concealed beneath the overpowering fragrance, seeping from her delicate, crimson mouth.
"Stop... you devil!" Arien struggled desperately to resist, but he was powerless under the vampire's spell.
The sharp fangs were already pressed against Arien's skin, and the vampire grinned maliciously, declaring, "Humans will perish eventually. It's better for such exceptional talent as yours to join me in eternal darkness than to perish with this world."
"Bullshit—!"
With a thunderous roar, a massive sword swung down from behind the vampire's head with the force of a thousand pounds. The woman, caught off guard while in the act of feeding, had no time to evade. Under the weight of the massive sword and the brute strength of its wielder, she crumbled like dried wood crushed by a cartwheel.
The vampire's body collapsed like mud losing its support, and the black mist she released gradually dispersed. The mercenaries rose from the ground, witnessing Rafe and Avi standing in the center of the camp.
"Arien, are you alright?"
Avi approached, supporting Arien. "Have you been bitten?"
"I... I'm fine..." Arien, on the verge of unconsciousness from inhaling too much of the toxic mist, managed to hold on and grabbed Avi's collar. "Be... careful... she's... sucking..."
"What are you saying?"
Arien couldn't hold on any longer. Slipping from Avi's grasp, he collapsed to the ground. In his final moment of consciousness, Arien extended his right hand and brushed against Avi's left hand.
"Boss—!"
Before Avi could react, Rafe had already lunged towards him, even though Rafe was swift, he was still a step too late.
A chilling sensation crawled up Avi's spine and settled at the thickest artery in his neck—the carotid artery.
The sharp fangs were more menacing than any dagger. Avi felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, and the Grim Reaper seemed to loom behind him.
"Despicable humans always resort to ambushes." The vampire's tone lost its poise and elegance, replaced by deep-seated hatred. "Just like three hundred years ago, you disgusting maggots!"
"Let go of our boss, you stupid woman!" Rafe pointed at the vampire and cursed, "Idiot, fool, stinking stone! Just wait, the next strike will turn you into a corpse, to be burned with that pile of rubbish!"
The vampire released her bewitching mist again, and Rafe's booming voice grew weaker and eventually faded. He propped himself up with his sword, barely managing to stay upright, but he also lost the ability to launch another attack on the vampire.
"You were once human too, weren't you?" Avi held his breath and struggled to ask, "You, like other vampires, were cursed by Nagash's blood, is this grotesque form what you desire?"
"Shut up!" The vampire thrust her sharp claws into Avi's back, causing him to tremble with pain. "I will possess your body and mind, twist and tear your soul until you acknowledge me as your supreme master..."
"Cough, cough... Why did you become a vampire? Did another demon as stinking as you transform you into this appearance? How many years have passed since you were transformed? Ten, twenty, or even hundreds of years?"
Avi still held his breath, and he twisted his body slightly, gaining a little movement in his bound left arm. The vampire thought he was writhing in pain and relaxed her guard slightly against this prey who was already in her grasp.
"I'll say it again, shut up!"
For some reason, the vampire became infuriated. She struggled to shake off something in her mind, then drew out her sharp claws and opened her mouth wide, ready to sink her teeth into Avi's neck.
However, just as she tensed her body backward to bite down, she sensed a warm sensation gradually spreading in her chest.
What's this?
Since becoming this demon, she had never felt warmth. Sunlight caused her immense pain, flames would reduce her to ashes, and the warmth of humans could only be felt when she fed, but she hadn't fed yet.
With a bewildered emotion, the vampire lowered her head to the source of the warmth, where a silver dagger was firmly embedded, held by Avi's left hand.
"Your eternity ends here, demon."
Avi coughed as he pulled out the dagger and lunged forward. Behind him, the graceful pale woman was engulfed in flames, and even until the moment she turned into ashes, her eyes were filled with astonishment and surprise.
"The fact tells us..." Avi collapsed on the ground, "... that the skill of artifact is the most powerful divine skill in this world, without a doubt."