Noah hurried down the corridor with a quick, albeit somewhat wobbly, step, using the makeshift candelabra spear to support his weight from time to time. His pride didn’t allow him to acknowledge the stabbing pain, shooting from his ankle. His guilt didn’t allow him to acknowledge the blurry veil still partially clouding his mind, as well as the hot waves rushing through his body even at the slightest friction by his clothes. The only thing he allowed himself now was anger. Scorching, glorious anger at everything and everyone… especially at himself. It burned with the flame of insanity, cleansed his head of unnecessary thoughts. Thoughts about her.
Alas, the memories of guilt and betrayal were just substituted by even more horrid images. He could see Lorelei in the clutches of those greedy monsters. Her neck - sliced open. A creature’s talons digging in her flesh as the vapir devoured her body and soul. She stood before him - a lifeless husk, blotches of darkness crawling over her pale skin, pitch dripping from her wounds. She stood before him - mangled yet still beautiful, ready to sink her unnaturally long fangs into his own tainted flesh…
Clenching his teeth almost to the breaking point, Noah cursed and staggered as his foot conveniently decided to cramp just at that moment. Duncan’s bear palm caught his arm in time, steadying him in place. This only infuriated Noah further.
With a strong yank, he tore free from the old knight’s grip.
“No need to baby me,” he hissed and moved forth.
Duncan frowned and opened his mouth to retort, but thought better of it. He simply shrugged, exchanging glances with Lucas, and followed his lord. However, his silence didn’t last long.
“Where are we heading now?” he whispered, his eyes darting around the empty hallway. “This place is like an ant’s nest. To find the guardian priests-”
“If they are doing their job, they should be closing on the source of this mess,” barked Noah.
“But my lord,” Lucas cleared his throat, “How do we even know where the vapir is? As Sir Duncan said-”
“I can smell it!” snapped Noah.
“But how?”
“Stop asking meaningless things and concentrate. Kin-vapirs like ambushes just like any other soul-sucker.”
Growling at the young knight was a bitter-sweet sting into Noah’s heart. He had no intention of discussing with Lucas his first time fighting vapirs, fighting his own knights and friends. Nor did he want to describe to him the thin putrid smell that had haunted his nightmares afterward and had ingrained itself in his mind. Like a hunting dog, he could detect the sweetly rotten stench of the vapir and its servants, and every fiber of his body screamed to destroy and devour the cursed magical abomination.
His body. Another thing Noah had no intention to openly discuss with the young knight. It was difficult to put into words anyway - that strange, unnatural hunger, tugging at the back of his mind every time he encountered strong magic. The remnant powers of Saint Arslan that he had inherited through the blood of the Emperor were not even at the level of the weakest acolyte. They had been dormant before his banishment to Norden, and even here they had seldomly acted up. But recently, he had a feeling that this vexing sixth sense, or whatever it was, was getting stronger, sharper, and harder to suppress.
‘Ever since I met Lorelei.’ The thought made him shiver and an excruciating pain twisted his heart again.
No. He had to stop thinking about her. On the battlefield, a momentary distraction meant death. His heart had done enough damage already, it was time for reason and logic to take control.
Shaking his head furiously, yet unable to completely erase Lorelei from his mind, Noah marched ahead, senses strained to the utmost. Every rustle could be a creeping enemy. Every shadow - a lurking abomination.
A desperate scream came from behind the next corner.
Like hounds let loose, Noah and his men devoured the distance.
A ghastly sight awaited them at the next intersection. A youth, not older than twenty, was scrambling backward on the floor, his hands shakily pointing his sword in front of him. His sullied black habit with stitched silver swords on his back and chest identified him as a guardian priest from the Night Brothers. Streams of tears ran down his still childish face as his unblinking eyes stared straight ahead. Three steps before him stood the old bony figure of a temple servant. Black veins crawled over the man’s skin. His eyes were gone, replaced by two bottomless pits of darkness. In place of his mouth was a gaping hole, filled with sharp pointed teeth. An unnaturally long tongue twisted between them as the creature gleefully licked the crawled fingers of his right hand. His left hand was busy digging into the chest of a middle-aged man who too carried the insignia of the Night Brothers.
With the arrival of Noah and his companions, both the monster and the youth glared at them in confusion. This won them some precious time.
“Duncan! Lucas! Pin it!” roared Noah and tossed his makeshift spear at the creature with such force that the monster was ripped from the ground and smashed against the nearby wall.
With the swiftness of prancing cats, the two men charged the vapir. The sharp spikes of the second candelabra bit deep into the cursed flesh as both knights put their entire weight into it. In the meantime, Noah rushed to the petrified youth and unceremoniously ripped the sword out of his hands.
“If you aren’t prepared to die, stay back,” he snapped, spinning on his heels. His injured foot protested but was completely ignored as the rush from the battle drummed in his ears.
With one swift move, the head of the creature hit the floor and rolled away, leaving a tar-like trail behind.
“Another kin-vapir,” hissed Noah before turning around and standing before the twitching body of the Night Brother. Black foam had started curdling at the corners of his mouth and the white of his eyes had begun to darken. Noah lifted the sword over his head. “Father Norn, accept this brave man. Father Lustris, cleanse the evil and embrace his soul.”
With a sharp motion, Noah’s arm fell.
“NO!” The youth’s shriek covered the sound of another head hitting the stone floor. “Why… did you…? He wasn’t dead….”
Flicking the dark red blood from his weapon, Noah stepped towards the youth and pointed the sword at his throat.
“Were you injured?”
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“W-what?”
“Did that thing bite or scratch you?” Noah’s eyes studied his disheveled clothing for any visible tears. “You better answer honestly, otherwise-”
“What in Father Norn’s name is going on here?” a new voice cut through the air.
A dozen black-clad people had just appeared from the adjacent corridor, led by a burly middle-aged man with graying black hair and beard. The leader’s eyes quickly darted around, squinting at the sight of carnage. His gaze remained peeled on Noah, whose sword was still at the youth’s throat.
“D-diakon Valente!” The young cleric yelped, his face twisted in agony. “H-help! He k-killed Diakon Ulmis!”
“He was infected and too far gone,” squeezed Noah through his teeth, rewarding the newcomers with an unruly challenging gaze bordering on madness.
To his surprise, the man named Valente lowered his head in a bow.
“I trust in Your Highness’ judgment. However, I hope Adept Marco won’t follow Ulmis’ fate.”
“As long as he answers me truthfully.” Noah returned his attention to the youth. “Now speak, before I tell my men to strip you here. I have no more time for nuisances.”
“Y-yes, Your Highness. I mean, no! I wasn’t wounded by that thing. Not even a scratch. Not a hair even. Diakon Ulmis was the first to….”
The young cleric choked and by his graying face, it looked like he was losing the fight with the urge to vomit.
“Taking not the easy prey but the more powerful one.” Duncan scratched his beard, his only eye turning into a slit. “The vapir that created it must be in dire need of power.”
“And still have more than enough semblance of reason to strategize.” Noah’s expression turned even grimmer. He pulled away the sword but still kept an eye on the hurling adept. “Diakon Valente, how many men do you have?”
“These eleven, another eight resting from the night patrol, and ten more guarding the temple ground’s exits. The rest, alas, are on assignments outside the city.”
“Damn!” Gritting his teeth, Noah racked his mind. “There should be at least thirty more of Bishop Petronius’ own guardian priests. Are they slacking or were they attacked too? Valente, do you know how many people are currently on the temple grounds?”
“Counting all the priests, novices, servants, scholars and scribes, and the guardian units… about five hundred souls. And in addition, well over a hundred citizens in the infirmary.”
“We need to destroy the source of these critters and protect the people.” Noah clenched his jaw even tighter, his eyes darting back and forth between the gathered people. “How many of you have guardian amulets and can use holy relics?”
“We can all channel holy powers. As for amulets, if Your Highness means those Binshi trinkets…” began Diakon Valente, but went silent, burnt by Noah’s glare.
“It seems like you haven’t been here for very long.”
“A year, my lord.”
“Then it’s about time to let go of the mainland mindset. What about the rest of you? Any of you with guardian amulets?”
Five of the twelve Night Brothers lifted their hands. Noah heard Duncan snorting behind his back and couldn’t agree more. It was true that the Night Brothers were a militant order and well-versed in facing heretics and wild beasts, but the magic of the Binshi was nothing to joke about. After all, if your opponent was usually an invisible, soul-sucking, curse-spreading, mind-twisting apparition, it was hard to put up a decent fight.
“Four from the five with the amulets should split and secure the infirmary and the novice dormitorium.” Noah managed to suppress his fury as his tired mind tried to fit all the pieces together. “The last one should accompany a second group to the relic storage and get properly armed. On your way to your destinations, sound the alarm and warn everyone that there is a vapir with several kin-vapirs under his control.”
“With all due respect, Your Highness,” the expression of Diakon Valente darkened, “you don’t have the authority to command-”
“Authority?” hissed Noah and closed the distance to the other man in a blink. The blood-covered blade of the sword gleamed just inches away from the face of the cleric. “I have all the authority, Diakon! I’ve killed two of those things already. And for the past fifteen years, I’ve been killing their kind and others like them, all while you were doing… what? Guarding pilgrims? Hunting wolves and bears? Trailing cultists and fanatics? I’ve done that too. So tell me, Diakon Valente, do I lack qualifications? But know, if you stand in my way, I won’t hesitate to cut any of you before you endanger the people of Norden with your pride and stupidity.”
The diakon visibly gulped and averted his gaze, unable to withstand Noah’s burning gray eyes. He lifted his hand, giving a sign to the rest of the Night Brothers to sheathe back the swords they had just drawn.
“Apologies, Your Highness,” murmured Valente, his tone colder than mid-winter ice. “I’ve made a mistake. My men will follow your orders.”
“Good.” Noah withdrew the sword. “Now go. We have no idea how many of those things are lurking around, so, be careful. Should you fight one, pin it down with something long first and then cut its head off. And whatever you do, don’t let it bite or scratch you.”
“Understood. But, if I may ask, what about you and your knights?”
“We are going for the source.” Noah swung his sword around. “I’ll be taking this. The kid shouldn’t use sharp objects in his condition.”
“But how will you find it? The cathedral and the rest of the temple complex are big enough to take hours!”
“We have our ways.”
Turning his back on the Night Brothers, Noah was about to leave when Diakon Valente’s words made him stop again.
“Shouldn’t we accompany you instead then? Eliminating the source would solve all problems.”
“If you don’t prevent the kin-vapirs from harvesting souls, one or two artifacts won’t be able to stop the progenitor. And with about a hundred novices and almost as many patients, the damn vapir has more than enough food.”
Diakon Valente balled his fists but didn’t retort. Noah nodded sharply.
“Now all is clear. Oh, and as it seems, I need to emphasize on it - the ones retrieving the relics should bring them to us as fast as possible.”
“Understood.” Diakon Valente, despite his sturdy build, looked like a scolded schoolboy. “How will we find you?”
Instead of Noah, Duncan stepped in, giving the Night Brother a vicious grin.
“Don’t worry. When we start trashing that thing you will definitely hear us.”
Without any further talk, the two groups parted. Noah sped up down the corridor, followed by his friends. After a couple of twists and turns along the eerily empty hallways, the monotonous rhythm of their running steps was finally broken by Lucas.
“We should have taken more weapons from the Night Brothers than just a single sword,” rumbled the young knight waving the bloodied and slightly deformed candelabra in the air. “I feel naked with just this toothpick.”
“And send the lads to a certain death?” Duncan snorted. “Without amulets, they’d be vapir food if we took their danglers too. Although I find it unfair that they can carry weapons on hallowed grounds while we need to beg to carry even a pocket knife.”
“So true! Besides, it’s their fault for not having tali-”
“Silence!” barked Noah, his whole being on high alert. “We are getting closer. One more word and we are monster-dinner.”
The only reply that came was the sound of running. Looking over his shoulder, Noah saw the faces of his two friends - pale and twisting with disgust. Well, it was about time they started noticing the horrid rotten stench of the vapir.
The next turn brought them to one of the entrances of the nave of the cathedral. Broken pieces of stone and wood were still strewn all around, forming small islands in the muddy puddles created by the rain. With glass and other debris crunching under their boots, it was almost impossible to creep in unnoticed. But it also wasn’t necessary. As their eyes fell on the web of darkness sprawling under the destroyed roof, its massive shape hiding the hole in the ceiling completely, their feet stopped moving on their own.
“Holy…” Lucas' whisper trailed into nothingness.
“Say that again,” grumbled Duncan in the same hushed tone and his eye was nearly popping out.
Next to them, Noah silently began cursing every deity and saint he could think of.