Hope is a fickle thing. An ember, which, depending on the situation, may burn brighter, or die silently. It can give the strength to fight a thousand men or push someone into despair.
Callum had lost all hope twenty-one years ago.
How old was he when the Master took him? He couldn't even remember. At first, he was just "food". A walking snack. A tank of blood to satisfy the needs of the Master and his friends. But...one day, the Master changed his mind.
And made him into this.
A monster. A bloodsucking monster. A mosquito in human form. A ruh sayiya, as his grandmother used to say. Her face had also disappeared from his memories, as many things had these past twenty-one years.
...At least his status had been elevated slightly. He wasn't food anymore, no, now he was his assistant. He was the one dirtying his hands in these damned rituals, the one having to watch over the food...And the one charged with taking care of the leftovers.
There was one thing that broke this monotonous, torturous life though. A year ago, a foreign individual, with raven-black hair and a purple left arm. He came knocking in the Master's house during his Harvest and brought the news of poor Jefferson's death. This...this had been a change Callum hadn't been expecting. It almost gave him hope of finally being freed from the Master's hold, but that guy was too weak. He wasn't strong enough to light up the ember of hope in his heart once more.
To punish him, the Master killed three lesser beings and hanged them high for everyone to see how weak that guy was. To show them who was the truly strong one, who domineered the lesser town? Their true leader—owner even. The Master went as far as capturing a child the rebel saved previously, bringing him back to the Manor to use as another walking food. But that kid was different. He became a thrall without losing a drop of blood, showing exceptional reception to the vampiric transfusion.
And yet...
The second he found the opportunity to flee and escape, he took it. He ripped his own heart out. He had chosen death and freedom over...whatever this joke of a life was. Over becoming a monster.
Ever since, the Master had changed. He wasn't Harvesting anymore, thank Nosferatu. He spent his entire time experimenting with thralls, trying to reproduce what he had achieved with that boy, Liam, without success.
Anyway, whatever antics the Master concerned himself with wasn't his problem. Callum had one job, and it was to listen to the master.
...But. For the first time in twenty-one years, when Liam escaped the claws of the Master through death, Callum realized there was another way. And since then...Every day, his dead, still heart tried to rekindle with hope, only to be painfully reminded of the truth.
There was no hope. Only the Master, and an eternity of servitude.
So why? Why was the Master's face so...confused right now? In such...disbelief? Callum almost wanted to rub his eyes, to try and maybe get rid of whatever was plaguing his sight, but what he was seeing was very much real. The Master was at a loss. For the first time in twenty-one years of servitude, Callum was seeing uncertainty in this monstrous mockery of a man.
"M...Master! I-It's the Devil's Hand from the journal!" One of the more conscious thralls came running, panting, "He's destroying the Manor! Sir Stormblade is fighting him, but he's pushing him back!"
Baron Howard turned around, his hands clenched behind his back, "What about the Vlirt brothers? They also headed out for a snack on the intruders, I believe."
The thrall bowed his head deeply, heaving with difficulty, "T-they met unexpected resistance! There are multiple intruders, and two of them are holding the Barons!"
Howard froze, before slamming his fist on the closest table, pulverizing it alongside the corpse lying on it in a macabre show. Callum didn't bat an eye as blood and gore covered him from head to toe, unbothered.
"How? The Brothers are Barons! And we're not talking about the "Devil's Hand", but two unknown?!?" Howard questioned angrily, his fists clenched tightly. The thrall gulped as he fearfully kept his head bowed. The Baron groaned and turned away, "Servant, follow me. We're leaving this to the other thralls. You stay with me."
Callum bowed, "Of course, Master."
Even though Callum had no way to see the moons from the underground facility they were hiding in, he could still feel that this night was going to be a beautiful one.
And for the first time in twenty-one years, he allowed himself to feel it.
That oh-so-sweet hope.
***
"B-Brother, s-she's r-resisting! W-what do I d-do?" The massive, bald vampire asked as he failed to grab Liara once more, the Black Heiress jumping over him gracefully with the help of her telekinetically controlled weapons. The classy yet arrogant vampire couldn't reply, struggling to defend against Sahro's relentless barrage of attacks.
The Black Heir was mixing up slices and punches, using his newly improved mechanical arm to block bladed attacks while sending red electricity coursing back through the attacker's weapon. More than once the classy vampire received a powerful discharge of Aura-charged electricity, and his wounds were starting to accumulate, while Sahro had yet to even receive a scratch. The Black Heir was simply too fast, dashing away in strikes of lightning every time the vampire got a little too close for comfort. His massive brother was in a similar situation, enduring wounds after wounds from Liara, yet failing to even touch the tip of her hair.
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"Damned ruh sayiya, I'll show you why you shouldn't have appeared in front of a Black Heir!" Sahro roared as he suddenly froze in place, his entire body covered in uncontrollable red lightning. The classy vampire stepped back, his back drenched in sweat as he tried to find a way to avoid the Black Heir's incoming attack when his sight settled onto Liara. He swiftly used the moment she jumped over his brother to hide behind her, his claws stabbing toward her neck. Sahro's eyes widened, but a striking flash of silver pierced through the air in front of him and destroyed the vampire's hand. Liara didn't waste the opportunity and thrust her spear through the vampire's neck, impaling him to the floor. His brother roared desperately, rushing for her, but a red lightning strike decided otherwise, hacking him into two smoldering and crackling half.
The classy vampire trembled, blood gushing out of his mouth as he reached for his brother with a shaking hand, only to watch helplessly as Sahro's blade, gleaming in the moonlight fell for his neck. Sahro swiftly returned his sword to his sheath, exhaling a controlled breath. He didn't even spare a glance at the rolling head of the vampire he just decapitated.
"Cutting one in half, and decapitating the other..." Sahro glanced at Liara and smacked his lips, "...Do you think it was enough?"
The Black Heiress shrugged with uncertainty. Sahro moistened his lips before thrusting his fists into both vampires' chests, destroying their hearts. He then crushed both of their heads under his feet, making sure nothing was left.
"We've wasted enough time already. We need to hurry up and find Callum!" Sahro hissed as he dusted his hands off. He grunted and jumped down the hole the two vampires came through. Liara sighed and retrieved her spear, before glancing back at Glenn's fight. It sounded like a hell of a battle.
But it was Glenn's battle. It probably was no use to worry about him. She chuckled to herself and followed Sahro down the hole, leaving behind the two vampire corpses destroyed beyond measure.
***
"Glenn, the Devil's Hand...Who would have guessed such a pitiful, pitiful loser who thought he held the world in his palms would become a war hero?" Stormblade questioned as he strolled through the flames and ice conjured by Glenn's spells, unhurt.
Glenn grinned, "I certainly did. Don't worry, I'll be sure to show you what I've learned during that last year!" He slammed his hands together, drawing a short breath as he conjured a Hellzone around the dark knight. Stormblade stopped as he watched his steel gauntlets catch on fire and begin to melt off. He clenched his fist tightly and projected a wave of Aura outwardly, destroying the spell once more.
"Party tricks. Did you believe you could attack a Baron with just that measly strength?" Stormblade scoffed as he stepped forward, his steel boot creating a crater into the floor. He dashed forward at extreme speed, a dark blur that Glenn would have certainly missed a year ago.
Not anymore, though. Glenn grinned as he hacked at Stormblade's greatsword, parrying it away with his hand axe.
'Nelg!' He demanded in his mind while jumping back. Stormblade looked at Glenn's hand axe transform into a terrifying, two-handed double-bladed battle axe before resuming his attack. Glenn wasted no time using Nelg's Mana to utilize his Cleave & Double It capacity, sending an energy blade splitting exponentially. The only limit was the caster's Mana capacity, and Glenn was more than confident he could handle letting Cleave & Double It grow a hundred times if needed.
Stormblade suddenly jumped in place and disappeared, a gale of wind replacing where he previously was standing. Nelg withdrew his Mana while Glenn swiftly rotated on his feet and blocked Stormblade's slash. His knees sank to the floor from the strength of the shock, but Glenn couldn't feel a shred of fear.
"That's all you got, then? Disappointing!" He roared as he pushed back against Stormblade's greatsword while using Gravity Manipulation to artificially interfere with his opponent's holding. Stormblade was forced to take a step back, giving Glenn barely a second to take out a small, unremarkable pebble with a slight jade color out of his breast pocket. Stormblade's eyes under his dark helmet trembled with confusion for an instant, but the knight didn't let it get to him and rushed in once more, cleaving through the ground with a massive blade of dark Aura.
Glenn pulled himself out of the way with Gravity Manipulation, laughing manically as Pebble became charged in kinetic energy and covered in burning blue flames, "Remember how I took you down back then? Let's see if you worked on that!"
Pebble flew out with a loud bang, piercing through the sonic barrier with the might of a Shooting Star. Stormblade barely managed to block the attack with his greatsword, the blade shattering into a thousand pieces. He slid back a dozen meters, his back crashing against the Manor's wall, making it tremble from the shock. The Knight fell to one knee silently, struggling to keep himself standing. Glenn approached him with measured steps, Pebble floating above his opened palm.
"You know what? You're right," Glenn admitted as Pebble became covered in searing flames once more, "You should have hanged me back then."
Stormblade scoffed, only to receive Pebble charged with the maximum of kinetic energy in the face, his helmet exploding in molten shrapnel. Glenn stood silently, watching the smoldering corpse through the dust cloud he had created with Mana Sight. Stormblade's body wasn't moving, yet... that dark, condensed Aura reminding him of a Grand Chevalier hadn't been snuffed out. On the contrary, it burned stronger than ever.
Glenn's eyes widened and he braced himself just in time for a wave of dark Aura to hit him and project him away. He crashed through multiple walls, only stopping a large distance away.
"Cough...Cough...!" He forced himself up, grunting as he pushed away a wooden beam that had fallen on him. The shockwave had been so powerful it had gone through his Saturn Rings like a hot knife through butter.
'A few commotions, maybe a ruptured bone, nothing you can't deal with, don't worry,' Diamanes commented without a shred of concern. Glenn spat out the blood in his mouth and wiped the soot off his face, his eyes glued to the figure standing without a head some distance away. Stormblade's armor fell apart, revealing a shriveled crown of thorns wrapped around a deep, rusty, and barely purple metal headband.
"Ahh..." Stormblade's voice came from the crown, otherworldly. The vines wrapping the headband untangled, growing and twisting to change into a humanoid shape. The thorny vines were gray, dull, and lifeless, yet...they were more threatening than ever, "Seems like our deal with Baron Howard will come to an end tonight. How..." Stormblade laughed widely as he picked back up his greatsword, "...Disappointing."
Glenn moistened his lips and willed for Nelg to change into his greatsword shape, ready to Cut & Pull.
"Time for round two, brat!" Stormblade roared, vines erupting from him like tentacles. Glenn gritted his teeth and almost sighed out of annoyance. He had recognized a symbol engraved on that purple headband, a symbol he knew all too well and was starting to get tired of seeing. No, actually, since the first time his eyes peered on this cursed symbol, his life had gone downhill, so no, he simply hated it.
This accursed Thorn's Church symbol.