A good look at the seated woman and Isaac tightened the grip on his broadsword, his eyes narrowing in focus. Her features were a confirmation of his suspicions.
Vampire!
There existed dozens of types of undead. Some were harmless like ghosts, others a were annoying like their poltergeist relatives. There were those such as skeletons, who could barely be considered a threat for someone with minimal combat training. Another undead at the bottom of the deathless food chain was the zombie. Their kind only presented a threat in groups.
Then there were the more dangerous undead, which were capable of annihilating an entire village. They were the likes of wraiths and draugr. Above them were death knights and dread zombies, which could destroy towns and sometimes cities.
However, the abovementioned were nothing compared to the undead classified in the special class. These were capable of obliterating entire nations. Although their methods varied- from brute force to espionage- each method was highly effective and therefore each had to be taken seriously. Whether it was the Lich, whose appearance roused the armies of multiple nations; the phantom, whose terror led to their existence being scrapped from public memory; or the revenant, whose mere appearance would send all of Rekke spiralling into chaos.
Although not as dangerous as the aforementioned, vampires were deadly in their own right. The Blood Sorceress was often regarded as the most beautiful woman to walk the face of Aran. Her childer had inherited some of her allure, enabling them to {Charm} all who were enamoured by them. Obviously, such was the case with the young baron. His now open eyes were unfocused, evidence that he had fallen under the bloodsucker’s influence.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit stranger?” the vampire asked, still on her husky tone.
The smile stayed on her face; her orbs boring into Isaacs. In response, he shifted his gaze to avoid them. The eyes of a vampire were the vessels of their {Charm} ability. As long as he did not peer into them, he would be safe from it.
In response to this reaction, the vampire lifted an eyebrow. her smile was gone. “Well, that’s a surprise,” she muttered, her voice bereft of its earlier sultriness.
Talking to the monster was meaningless. There was nothing the bloodsucker could possibly say that would be of any use to him. Even if there was, due to his current state, it was not possible to use the information. In this situation, the best thing to do would be to get rid of her as quickly as possible.
Concluding his thoughts, he sprang into action and pounced. In less than a blink of an eye he shot past the bed and its dwellers. They were not his targets. Within the confines of this room was a much easier way to dispose of the vampire than to attack her directly.
There was not pause in his movements when he got to the other side of the room. Lifting his sword, he slashed at the dark veil which kept the vampire’s greatest weakness at bay. The sound of the curtain tearing filled the room. Three quarters of it dropped the ground to reveal the windows, two large glass structures completely smeared in black paint. Light could not shine through.
It seemed the vampire was not as careless as he had thought. Even so, this carefulness amounted to nothing. All he needed to do was put in more effort to expose her to her weakness, after all, the windows were still made of glass.
He raised his sword again and swiped horizontally. The resistance was minimal as the glass gave way amidst cracking and shattering echoes. With the blockage gone, golden light streamed inside the room unimpeded. It charged forward and hit the bed dead on. Unfortunately, it was no longer occupied.
The young baron stood next to the bed while clutching an ornamented sword. He glared at Isaac with misty eyes, telltale signs of being {Charm}ed. However, another feeling shared the space in his eyes… animosity.
Isaac had barely turned his back to the broken window when the baron pounced on him. He was fast, faster than the knight, and stronger too; his physique was likely Grade 3. To fend off his attack, Isaac gripped his sword even harder to avoid it recoiling onto his armour.
The young Baron Ennard was also more skilled than his knight as he continued to attack places that were vulnerable and hard to reach. This was easily accomplished because he was unarmoured and therefore his movements were unhindered. On the other hand, Isaac’s armour made him slower and less dextrous. Still, he was not slowed down so much that he would fail to stop the blows of someone whose speed was a grade below his from landing. Half a dozen seconds of after they began clashing, he managed to grab the baron’s sword hand.
“Snap out of it, Lord Ennard!” he yelled. “Come to your senses, you’re being manipulated!”
“I won’t let you hurt her!” the baron responded with a snarl before moving his sword to his other hand and resuming the assault.
Isaac gritted his teeth and defended. Shoving away the baron’s sword, he could not help cursing Sage once again. If not for that vile creature, a situation like this would not have amounted to more than a slight irritation. There used to be spells in his arsenal specifically for knocking bewitched victims out of their trance. With the convenience gone, he had to resort to the old-fashioned way.
I hope he is not to upset when next he wakes up, the thought crossed Isaac’s mind as he dodged to the side and caught the baron’s sword hand once more.
This time, instead of waiting for Ennard to follow up, he delivered an attack of his own, his gauntleted fist caught the baron on the side of his face. Isaac heard a crunching sound as the baron hit the floor. A stream of blood flowed out of his horribly agape mouth, carrying a bunch of teeth with it.
The baron was out cold, his jaw broken and several teeth out. On the bright side, he was still breathing; it counted for something. Still, he probably would not be happy when he regain conscieceness.
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As soon as the fight ended, Isaac stepped over the body and made a beeline for the door. The vampire had run off, but she was still in the castle. As long as the sun remained up, she was unable to leave.
After returning to the corridor he checked over all the previous rooms and broke their windows to limit her hiding options. Unfortunately, she was nowhere in sight. She could not have gone far though. He uttered a hoarse grunt as he raced for the stairs.
If the vampire had gone into hiding, the situation would become more difficult for him. Not much time had passed since the alarm bell rang, so there were no interruptions yet. However, if he had to spend time looking for the vampire, it was almost a given that reinforcements from the town would arrive before he was done.
If Isaac was still human, he would have been able to explain his actions with a great probability of them listening to him. Just because Lethians worshipped a different god did not mean they were ignorant of the dangers undead posed. If he was able to convince them that the bard who had been entertaining the baron for the past month was actually a vampire and responsible for the recent bouts of sickness in town, their subsequent anger would likely make them join him in searching.
That was not possible now. He had seen his reflection and his current appearance did not inspire trust. As an undead, he could no longer cast spells; even if he could, channelling Light Magic would kill him. As for the holy spells like [Prayer], which asked for the Goddess favour; even if it was possible to cast it, he would be smote on the spot.
Because of a single undead, his life was completely ruined. In the deepest part of his heart, he truly wished she befell the worst fate.
At the bottom of the stairs he found the door to the audience chamber open, a contrast to how he had left it. Straining his eyes as they leapt to every crevice in sight, he stepped through the door, his broad sword raised with both hands.
The moment he set foot in the audience chamber; he caught the flash of an oncoming object in the corner of his left eye. Reacting quickly, he knocked away the dagger with his sword before changing his stance to make the grasp on his sword firmer. Then he thrust at his attacker. He was not able to impale her though, as she burst into a cloud of bats and scattered in all directions before the sword reached her. His eyes followed the swarm as it gathered on the other side and reformed into the vampire.
She wore a deep frown along with an intense glare. Gripping a crimson dagger in her right hand, she used it to open up her left forearm, causing crimson fluid to spurt out. The normal case of it trickling to the ground did not happen. The blood instead moved to the dagger and merged with it, solidifying into a lance. Instead of hiding, she had decided to fight.
The vampire took a step forward and hurled the spear at him. Its speed was blinding, however he managed to dodge it. On the unfortunate note, even though he managed to get out of its trajectory, he could not avoid taking damage as it exploded the next moment. The impact sent him sent him to the ground. But he collected himself and executed several rolls to minimise the impact of the fall before getting hopping back to his feet, gritting his teeth as he looked ahead.
The vampire stood where he had been. The exploded blood returned to her and coalesced into a scythe. She raised her left arm- which was no longer spotting the wound- and grasped it. Then she rushed forward.
She was faster than the baron, though still lacking compared to Isaac. He jumped back to avoid the weapon’s edge. However, upon missing him, the scythe scattered into countless blobs which further transformed into sharp projectiles. In response, he sprinted away before the crimson spikes fell where he had been. Where they landed, each projectile drilled into the stone floor; the sight of it was enough to tell Isaac the spikes were strong enough to bypass his armour.
“Dammit!” he cursed under his breath.
{Haemamancy} was branch of magic created by the vampire progenitor, and was an ability each bloodsucker gained upon turning. The origins of this magic were horrendous. Although necromancy was the vilest art in existence, blood magic was a close second. Its practise granted great power, but the cost-
When she was still a magician, the Blood Sorceress was notorious for conducting rituals in which thousands were sacrificed. Legend had it the first ones on her chopping block were her kin; parents, siblings and even her own brood.
The crimson spikes turned to splotches, which moved back to the vampire where they merged into a javelin. She caught it and once again hurled it. However, this time it split into half a dozen thinner lances, each striking different at parts of his body. He was able to dodge four of them, and block another with his sword. Unfortunately, the last spear knocked against his helm.
Luckily, he was already in mid-dodging motion. Although the spike managed to pierce the helm, it missed him. However, the actions sent it flying off his head. Isaac immediately distanced himself from it, however, the helm clattered to the floor without the blood on it exploding. In fact, the attacks had stopped. The bloodsucking woman had not moved from her spot since she threw the spear. Her crimson orbs were eyeing him in bewilderment.
“What manner of creature are you?” she asked. There was a hint of caution in her voice.
He deigned to remain silent and flared {Chill} to max by. Unfortunately, his mana was only yellow, the same colour as that of sorcerers of the 1st Order. Unlike spells, abilities were only as strong as the colour of mana, meaning his yellow mana abilities were no match for those of his opponent’s which- if he had to guess- was either 5th or 6th Order; likely the latter. The mana of a vampire was directly proportional to its physique, if one increased the other did as well. From the way she moved, the vampire’s physique was clearly better than the baron’s and she had the mana to match. Worse, {Chill}’s fear effect did not work on her, being an undead and all.
If I was still human- he thought with gritted teeth as the fight resumed. But that was no longer possible and he should not dwell on it while in battle, especially one where his opponent had the upper hand. If only there was a way to even out the field.
Just as this thought crossed his mind, he began to feel mana leaving him. He did not have the luxury to panic, much less ponder the reason, as he was too busy dodging the vampire’s blood projectiles.
However, after a few more rounds of dodging, he noticed something strange. The blood projectiles were slower and the explosions were not as volatile; also, the vampire’s movements had slowed down. He did not know what was happening and it seemed neither did she from her confused her expression. Although this situation came as a surprise, it was a happy one as the tide of the battle quickly changed.
The vampire who had previously worn a confident look bordering on smugness now panicked as he dodged all her attack while charging. He got within an arm’s length of her and let his fist fly into her gut. The bloodsucker gasped as she was sent flying back, frost gathering around the area where his punch hade landed. Not giving her a chance to recover, he chased after her sword raised, aiming to sever her neck from her shoulders. This fight had gone on long enough, it was time to finish it.
“Okay, that’s enough.”
After the last couple of days, there was no way he would not recognise the voice that came from the side. His movements came to the halt just before his sword touched the vampire’s neck. His body no longer obeyed him, except his neck which he craned to look in the direction the voice came from.
There stood the phantom with her face unmasked. The cat lodged in her arms gave him a look filled with schadenfreude. When it had left his shadow, he did not know; it could have been anytime during his storming of the castle. How long Sage had been standing in the audience chamber was a mystery as well; being a phantom, she could have well been here since the beginning.
What was not a mystery was her frown and glare. She was pissed.