It all happened so fast that neither Duncan nor Lucas had time to react. The robed figure of the priest spun around before rolling on the floor a few paces away.

“Holy… What the…?” Duncan stammered, gawking at Noah and looking for the right words. “Now you’ve lost it, lad!”

“M-my lord!” Lucas dared to take a step towards the injured priest, his face looking ashen. “You attacked a cleric-”

An outstretched arm barred the young knight’s way.

In the sparse light of the storm and the flickering lanterns, Noah’s sharp profile and slightly bared teeth, combined with his hunched pose, made him look like a hound preparing to lunge at its prey.

“You can hang me if I’m wrong,” he hissed, his eyes peeled on the man squirming in front of them, “but a priest shouldn’t stink like this.”

“Stink? What stink?” Duncan came to his left, his hand resting on the pommel of his dagger. “I don’t sense a thing. I know your mind is quite muddled right now…”

Noah let the old knight’s words brush past him. His mind might have been clouded. His feelings might have been entangled. But every fiber of his body knew what was before them.

He could never forget that sweetly repulsing odor of decay, of rotting leaves and dead flowers, mixed with a subtle, metallic whiff of blood. Closing his eyes, Noah filled his lungs once more, just to be sure, his mind still trying to deny what his body had recognized on his own. But there was no mistake. It was a remnant of a bitter-sweet past, a nightmare-turned-hope from almost fifteen years ago, and a stench he could recognize ever since.

And then there was the even more obvious clue.

Noah’s right hand clawed at his heart. The blood, rushing through his veins, was whispering. A yearning. A hunger. An unquenchable desire to devour. He had felt it during Kash-baba’s hex, during the times Yanosh and Akh-Moren had weaved their spells. It was the instinct engraved in his flesh and bones, inherited through his blood. It was what allowed him to use Nerodris, and what drove him to the brink of madness when he lost control over the armor.

The blood of Saint Arslan was calling to him. Telling him that there was an enormous cluster of magic that broke the rules of reality somewhere nearby.

All of Noah’s turbulent thoughts were pushed behind an iron door by a singular realization. There was danger ahead.

“Take out your weapons. Now. We have a vapir here.”

“Are you for real!?” Duncan glared at his lord. “An infectious, cursed bloodsucker under the Church’s roof!?”

“Uhm, Sir Duncan?” Lucas’ voice sounded unnaturally thin. “How many people, except you and maybe Aiden, can stand straight after receiving the Duke’s punch?”

All three stared at the straight hooded figure standing before them. The same one that was rolling on the floor just a second ago.

“I’ll be damned!” Duncan unsheathed his dagger, and so did Lucas. “I wish I had something longer than this toothpick. For once we follow those stupid rules about no swords on hallowed grounds, and look what happened!”

“Your blabbering is a weapon on its own,” snapped Noah, feeling helpless like a newborn without a weapon of his own. His eyes carefully followed the vapir priest’s every move.

“It seems you’ve regained some of your witts, boy. So tell me, why aren’t we monster-food yet?”

Noah wanted to know the answer too. He remembered the time when two of his retainers had been cursed and turned into vapirs. A vapir felt almost no pain and possessed an insatiable hunger and desire to spread its curse. And it definitely had no second thoughts about attacking its prey.

“I think…” whispered Lucas, “I think it’s confused by the great variety of meal options.”

“We need longer weapons,” mumbled Noah as his mind was trying to formulate a plan. “Wasn’t there a niche with a devotion altar around the corner?”

“Yes.” Duncan squeezed his dagger tighter. “But can you run in your condition?”

Noah threw him a steely glance before turning to the younger knight.

“How good are you at throwing knives?”

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Before Lucas could give an answer, a screech came from under the cleric’s hood and the vapir jumped at them.

With a silver swish, a dagger embedded itself where the creature’s throat should have been. With a gurgling howl, it tumbled backward.

“Run!” shouted Noah, but there was no need, as his two friends were already doing a fine job at using their feet.

Sprinting while being chased by a blood-sucking monster sure gave one sufficient motivation. And yet, Noah could feel his body rebelling with every step. His sprained ankle, half-healed and further strained from the hours of kneeling in the Healing Saints’ capel, now felt like being pierced by hot iron nails. His balance and speed were further impaired by whatever herbs and hexes were still left in his system after what he and Pricilla…

A slew of disturbing images flashed before his eyes. For a second, his mind blanked and his body stiffened. His foot dragged and tripped, but a sturdy hand grabbed him in time, and Lucas managed to pull him behind the corner.

And there was the niche with the devotion altar - a simple marble cube, crowned with a flat solver tablet full of fruits and sweets, and flanked by one shoulder-high candelabra with two flickering candles on each side.

Just as the altar came into sight, the vapir’s screech erupted right behind them.

“Duck!” echoed Duncan’s roar and his burly figure shot past them, carrying something long and glowing.

Still shaky on his legs, Noah felt a strong pull from Lucas, who wedged himself between the attacking monster and his lord.

“Fool!” was all Noah could cry before their bodies slammed on the floor and rolled a couple of times before stopping at the foot of the altar.

“Stay down!” shouted Lucas into Noah’s ringing ear, and in the next second, the weight of the young knight's body that pressed against his vanished.

Noah furiously shook his head and tried to order the world to stop spinning. As his gaze cleared, he saw the vapir just a step away. The creature was hissing and flailing on the ground, securely pinned to the stone floor by the sharp ends of a candelabra. On the other end were Duncan and Lucas - muscles bulging and teeth gritted, but still unscathed.

“Now what, Sir Duncan?” huffed the young knight.

“You let go, pull out my dagger, and slice that thing’s head off!”

“You won’t be able to hold him down alone long enough!”

“Then chop fast.”

“This is no joke!”

“Who’s joking, kid!? Besides, your dagger already did some damage.”

Listening to his squabbling friends sobered Noah up. There were things to be done. He couldn’t allow himself to lie in a corner. As he was pulling himself up the altar, Noah’s hand brushed against the silver offerings tablet. Like a bolt of lightning, an idea flashed in his head and he stepped into action.

Noah closed the distance to the vapir. With each dragging step, anger and bloodlust rose in his heart. So, when he swung down the silver tablet, all the pent-up fury, fear, and desperation concentrated in his strike, turning the large dish into an executioner’s ax.

The platter split the air and wedged itself in the gap left by Lucas’ dagger. A fountain of dark smoke and tar-like blood erupted from the wound and showered over him, but Noah didn’t stop. Holding his breath, he hit again and again, until the head of the monster rolled to the side.

With a heave of relief, Duncan and Lucas stumbled to the side, both trembling from exhaustion and from the shock of the brutal scene that played before their eyes just now.

“Whew… That was a tough one.” The old knight rubbed away the sweat from his brow. “What now?”

“We look up where that thing came from?” huffed Noah and hurried to take the second candelabra and discard the candles from their spikes.

“You think there are more of those things.” Lucas licked his lips.

“There are three ways to initially create a vapir.” Noah weighed the candelabra in his palm. “When a human is ghost-touched and not purified in time. When a curse is laid upon a living person. And when a Binshi commits a taboo and devours a living person’s soul. No matter what the case, this thing here is just a kin-vapir, created by being infected by a true vapir. This means that we still have to find the source.”

“How can you be so sure this isn't a true vapir?” Duncan frowned and scratched his head.

“Because we killed it too easily.”

The three of them became silent and looked at the mangled corpse at their feet. Lucas was the first to speak up.

“If you are right, my lord, then we might be facing… an army.”

Noah nodded grimly.

“We need to find the guardian priests and sound the alarm.” He hesitated for a moment and bit his lips. “And we… need to secure the Duchess. She might be in grave danger…”

“Don’t worry about her for now.” Duncan put a hand on his shoulder. “Neli can keep her safe. Besides, they went in the opposite direction from us.”

“But Neli too is unarmed.”

“The old fury would rather go out naked than part with her weapons. Rest assured, the Duchess is in safe hands. You said it yourself - we must arm up and find the source of this mess.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste any more time,” said Noah and tried to bury the flaming worry in his heart.

She hated him. She feared and despised him. But he couldn’t bear the thought of any harm coming to her. His fingers clenched around the candelabra’s pole and his anger began to simmer anew.

Whoever was responsible for all this was going to die by his hand tonight.