Darian and Marco’s swords clashed, the enchanted steel sending multicolored sparks into the air. With a grunt, Darian forced Marco on the back foot. It was clear already that Darian’s strength was far greater than that of the Justicar, but the man was a skilled swordsman. He deflected Darian’s attacks, throwing in swift strikes to keep Darian at bay. But as they moved into the street, Marco was running out of space to retreat.
As they exchanged blocked strikes, Marco’s men began to fall. Darian’s wolves rushed them from behind as his dominated bats flooded their vision. Those that offered defense were shot by Fria, the woman’s arrows making quick work of them. A few gathered to the right, a golden sphere appearing around them. It kept Darian’s summoned creations at bay for now, but they circled the dome, testing its defenses.
Marco raised his palm and Darian ducked, golden light flying over his head. The holy spell crashed into the steps that led to the longhouse and Darian could hear the stone break under the impact. Not wishing to give him further opportunity, Darian activated [Biting Swarm] on the torch cast shadows. The shapes that emerged were larger than those from [Swarm] and they surrounded Marco, their shadowy teeth tearing at him.
Using the Justicar’s blood, Darian activated [Crimson Daggers]. His blood flowed through the air, forming and solidifying around Darian’s head. Using his thoughts, he sent the daggers toward Marco as he prepared a lunging strike. To the Justicar’s credit, he knocked one of the daggers wide and dodged another. But the third sunk into his thigh, and the man cried out.
Darian thrust, but Marco’s sword looped down and deflected the blow. Then Marco’s sword flashed blinding white, and Darian backed away, the holy energy splitting the night. And with a snarl the Justicar came at Darian with a barrage of slashes, his strength seeming to increase with each desperate attack.
Now on the back foot, Darian used [Blood Shield] on a nearby corpse. With the shield at his side, he took a half step back, putting the oval of hardened blood before him and Marco’s sword.
But to Darian’s surprise, the shield split in half after only a single blow. Then another bolt of energy shot from Marco’s palm, the blast colliding with Darian’s chest.
It knocked him back, pain exploding from the searing wound. But as he regained his composure, he activated [Crimson Daggers] once more, this time using the blood of a gutted Justicar. Then he pulled back, letting Marco advance. When he was near striking range, Darian used [Blood Mist] to block the Justicar’s vision. Launching his daggers through the mist, Darian charged forward.
Darian’s sword flashed down, the thin edge cutting down and into Marco’s shoulder. Ripping it free, Darian kicked the man in the chest and sent him sprawling to the ground. He was cut along the arm and leg, and two blood daggers were planted in his stomach.
Somehow the Justicar managed to keep hold of his sword, and he rose on shaking feet, his eyes mad in pain and fury. He took a stumbling step back, blood dripping from his wounds. Darian figured the man would fall over at any moment, but he gritted his teeth and swung his sword.
But the strike was weak, and with a flick, Darian sent both the Justicar and his sword spiraling into the mud. Then he stepped forward and pressed the tip of Sparkblade to the Justicar’s chest.
“Filthy beast,” Marco said, glancing at the bodies of his men, blood on his lips.
The chaos that engulfed the gathered Justicars had already ended. Besides the three huddled together in the golden dome, the rest were dead. Darian’s estimation about their general strength proved to be correct. If we hadn’t killed Victoria, I doubt this group could have done the job. Even Marco, the one person amongst them who Darian figured could pose a challenge was nearly powerless before him.
Despite the thick scent of blood in the air, Darian’s thirst was mostly under control. His hunger hadn’t decreased as his race changed from lesser vampire to vampire, but his urge to feast was tempered. But with so much fresh blood around him, it was difficult to keep himself from tearing into Marco.
Boots slapped against the muddy street, Durance and his men fast approaching, Fria and Zan not far behind them.
Darian commanded his summoned creatures to clear a path for them. Some he left to circle the three Justicars that still cowered behind their golden dome. So long as they stayed within, Darian would simply watch them.
“By Argus,” the dwarf mumbled, his face growing pale.
“Butchery,” one of Durance’s men said, his eyes latching onto Darian.
“They would have burned the infected alive,” Darian said, a bit of doubt creeping into his heart. “I only did what I had to do.”
But even as he said the words, Darian’s mind wandered. Was this truly the only choice? He looked over the bodies, their slack faces, eyes widened in horror. Did I make the right decision?
“What’s done is done,” Durance said, his mouth drawn into a hard frown. “We will gather the bodies and give them a proper burial.”
Marco coughed. “Non-human traitor.”
“The only traitor here is you,” Fria said, standing at Darian’s side. “The church for all its faults is supposed to serve and protect the people. What you attempted was murder.”
Marco smiled, his teeth glistening red. “Nothing but Argus’ holy flame can stop this infection.” His eyes drifted across Durance and his men. “When it is your brothers, your sisters, your mothers that huddle and die in the dark, know that it was men like you who let it happen.” He coughed again, his breath wheezing. “Well, you damned beast, are you going to—”
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Darian thrust, his sword piercing Marco’s heart. The Justicar shuddered, then his head fell back to splash against the muddy and snow speckled ground.
“Argus preserve us,” Durance said, his eyes downcast. “Men, gather the bodies. You know what to do.”
His men hesitated, but eventually set to work.
“Darian,” Fria said, gripping his arm. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” He replied, pulling his blade free.
He desperately wanted to sink his fangs into Marco, but he could not afford to do so with Durance and his men so close. They already looked at him like he was a monster, and he would not give them further reason to hate him.
----------------------------------------
Enemies Defeated
[Humans Lv. 3 – 7] x 8
[Human Lv. 14]
Companion Contribution: 29
Class XP Gained: 167
Progress to Class Lv. 10 (419/650)
----------------------------------------
Darian and Fria exchanged glances as the screen appeared. While gaining more class XP probably should have excited him, all he felt was a touch of anxiety. He still wasn’t sure about turning Fria’s mother into a vampire. There were too many variables in a decision like that for him to know what to do. But he couldn’t let her and the others die if he could help them, right? Though I wish helping them didn’t have to be so bloody.
The golden dome fell, and Darian’s summoned creatures snarled at the terrified Justicars.
Halt Darian commanded them with his thoughts.
Durance crossed his arms over his chest as he observed the trio. “Lay down your weapons,” he commanded.
“So you can kill us all the easier?” A shaking voice replied. “No. Argus would never forgive us.”
“Surrender,” Darian said, commanding his monsters to close in. “Please.”
One of the Justicars, a young man, tossed his mace down and backed away from the rest. Then another, a middle-aged woman with silver-streaked hair, joined him. That left one, an older man who gripped a silver tipped spear with cold determination. It had been him who called down the dome, and it was he who regarded Darian with hate filled eyes.
“I would rather die than betray Argus,” he said, his voice flat and without fear. “And the rest of you, disgraces all.”
“Would Argus truly look upon you favorably, Justicar?” Darian asked. “Or would you only make him sick? The infected were quarantined. There was no reason to kill them.”
“Whether there was reason or not, that is for my commanders to decide.” The old man readied his spear. “Now finish what you started, monster.”
Darian turned away as he commanded his summons to attack. “So be it.”
The man managed to take a few down, but their sheer numbers overwhelmed him. Darian heard the fatal blow land, and he could hear the Justicar breathe his last, gurgling breath. It did not bring him joy.
“A grim day,” Durance said, nodding at two of his men as they took the prisoners away.
“Indeed,” Darian said, his chest tight.
Despite wanting to rest, there was still the matter of Fria’s mother and the infected to contend with.
He slipped Sparkblade into his inventory and with Fria and Zan beside him, made his way up the longhouse steps. When he reached the door, he paused, his thoughts racing.
“I want you to know,” Fria said, her breath misting as a chill wind blew through the village. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
Darian smiled flatly. “If there’s a chance I can save your mother, I have to try, right?”
“And do you still plan on turning the other villagers?”
“I do.” Darian straightened his back. “I will offer them a choice. Those that agree to be turned I will take to your home like we discussed. It won’t be safe to keep them with the others.”
Images of vampiric villagers killing and bleeding dry the rest sent a thrum of panic through his chest. But he smothered it.
“I will keep the back path clear for you.” She sighed. “But what will we do about them?”
Darian followed her gaze to the Justicars down the hill. Killing their fellows hadn’t won Darian any favors, and he doubted what he was about to do would be approved by them.
“If they get in our way, we kill them.”
Fria’s grip tightened around her bow. “But only if we absolutely must.”
“Only if we must,” Darian reassured.
As they stood watching the Justicars, Durance came up the hill.
“With Marco gone, I am in command now,” he said, frowning at the falling snow. “But the men are near panicking already.” He looked over his shoulder at Darian’s summoned beasts. “They worry you plan on killing the rest of us.”
Darian watched as the Justicars began pulling their dead from the street. “I don’t wish for more violence.” He locked eyes with Durance. “But if you try and stop me, then know I will have no choice.”
“And what is it that you plan on doing?” the dwarf asked.
“Darian can cure the infected,” Fria said. “By making people like him.”
“Like…him?” The dwarf somehow managed to frown even deeper. “And you, you’re immune I take it?”
Darian nodded. “And I can make other’s immune. But the process will…change them.”
The dwarf reached into his satchel and pulled out a small golden vial. “I was given this by a rather strange fellow. He said it could cure the infected, but there was only enough for five people.”
“Keep it for those who refuse my offer,” Darian said.
Durance nodded and placed the glowing object back into his satchel. “Very well.” Then he turned. “Do what you must, creature of the night.”
Darian cocked his head at the dwarf’s words as he descended the hill.
“Are you sure about this?” Fria asked.
“Not at all.” Darian gripped the longhouse door. “But my path is set.”
Darian no longer believed in some all-powerful god, but he couldn’t help but offer up a silent prayer as he stepped into the darkness.