Immanuel now dedicated himself to training in the larger room, feeling an almost tangible proximity to his transformation. The thought of soaring through the air filled him with an insatiable yearning for freedom. "I just need to fly!" he thought determinedly.
His routine was vigorous: running laps, executing push-ups, and completing sit-ups. After exhausting himself, he settled down for a meal, his attention shifting to the stage 4 cores in his storage. He had two early stage 4 cores from Meyong's training and two from the Chimera—one a late stage, the other an early middle stage.
Immanuel's mind drifted back to the confines of his small cell, reminding himself, "Every morsel of power is crucial." As he absorbed the core, a surge of sweet, potent energy overwhelmed him. This power was more formidable than he anticipated, violently clashing with his own core. Agonizing pain erupted within him before revealing a new skill. As the energy subsided, he grasped a fragment of understanding: fire-breathing. The creature, a type of drake, offered him insights into how to better harness and externalize his core energy.
Satisfied, with a big grin on his face he thought, ‘This will be a valuable addition to my fighting style’.
---
"Damn, where could she be?" Immanuel muttered, his mind set on one more attempt at a transformation when the door suddenly swung open. He reflexively flashed back to his cell, his heart pounding until her familiar face came into view.
She looked utterly exhausted, dark circles underscoring her eyes.. Without hesitation, Immanuel flashed out and extended his arm to her. She smiled weakly, accepting his offer and sinking her teeth in, drinking deeply.
She took a few moments to collect herself and Immanuel waited while she held onto his arm.
"Ah, thanks," she sighed but that nearly collapsed. Immanuel, acting quickly, summoned a chair from storage, offering her a seat. Her smile, faint but genuine, was a small victory.
"What in the world do you have in that storage?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.
"Oh, just a few essentials for emergencies and the like," Immanuel replied, noting the basket of food. He pulled out another chair and sat across from her. "Hungry?" he inquired. She nodded, and together they shared a meal.
"Before you tell me what you have been doing, I realized I don't even know your name. I'm Immanuel," he said, introducing himself.
Mouth full, she replied, "My name is Sylthra Vexalune. Did you know-”
“Can you repeat your name?”
“Sylthra Vexalune.” She repeated before continuing, “did you know there's an extensive network of tunnels here? They're rarely used, but they're home to some terrifying creatures. I've found a route to the ship. And a book written by its maker."
"That's great news," Immanuel responded, mentally repeating her name to remember it.
"I've reached some sort of truce with the dogs. One of them, Cuurhun, seems particularly keen on eating you," she explained.
"Why is that?" he inquired when a pained expression.
"You killed a female that had a sort of intimate connection with Cuurhun, though it's hard to say. It’s usually one big orgy down there.”
“Fuck.” He responded. She nodded and then went on.
"I managed to negotiate an understanding with the dogs though," Syl continued. I am a master brewer and enchanter." Syl said with a cheeky grin. "I need to concoct some potions to keep them at bay. Do you have a stage 3 or 4 Blue Beetle core?"
"I'm not sure," Immanuel admitted, standing to display his collection of beast cores.
She alternated her gaze between the ground and Immanuel, clearly awestruck. "I've never seen such a spatial treasure.. I know some elders possess a necklace capable of storing a single sword, but this... how is it even possible?"
She started to pick up several cores. “Curse Ghana, what stage are these?” Her hand moved to one of them but she decided not to touch them, afraid they might hurt her.
“I got them from an inheritance, from my master, when he died.” Immanuel answered.
Surveying the array of cores, she carefully selected four. "Put the others away; these aren't Blue Beetle cores, but they'll suffice." Immanuel promptly stored the rest as instructed.
With a mischievous glint in her eye, she looked at him again. "Yes, take a last drop," he offered, laughing.
---
Immanuel grappled with a sense of uselessness keenly aware of Syl carrying the brunt of their escape efforts. Yet, he understood that circumstances could shift rapidly, demanding readiness at any moment. To quell his anxiousness, he immersed himself in continuous training: refining his martial forms, mastering his staff techniques, and trying his transformation.
Eventually, Immanuel found himself sinking into a quiet contemplation. His mind wandered to the majestic tree in the blue dome tower, it was always such a symbol of peace amidst chaos. He harbored little hope for Elio's safety, but thought about him and their spars together.
The door's opening snapped Immanuel out of his reverie. He saw Syl’s familiar face and instantly flashed out. She approached without a moment's hesitation, taking his arm and drinking deeply. The intensity of the moment stirred an unexpected, almost erotic sensation in Immanuel, which he quickly chastised himself for. "No, this is not the time for such thoughts," he mentally reprimanded himself.
Once she had finished, Syl stepped back, a glint in her eyes.
"The dogs will be off our backs for a while," she announced, her voice carrying a tone of relief and success.
"You are absolutely amazing!" Immanuel exclaimed, as he made his way to the basket of food. He carefully set up two chairs, one for Syl and another for himself. He offered her some meat before serving himself, noticing her smile.
"What's amusing?" he asked..
"It's just... something so minor, yet you never fail to consider it," she observed.
"Consider what?" He questioned, taking a bite of his food.
"The fact that you serve me first, then take for yourself," she pointed out.
"My mama raised no fool," he quipped, earning another smile from her.
"When I was captured, I had a sword and Haiken claws. Do you know where they might be?" he inquired, changing the subject.
"The claws have ended up with Cuurhun. He claimed them during one of their frequent bouts and... other activities. As for your sword, can you describe it?" she asked.
"It's about this long and this wide," he gestured, "with a wooden hilt and a small emblem resembling a bird."
"I'll see what I can find out," she promised.
Shifting the conversation, Immanuel asked, "Any news from the city or Elio?"
"There's been a civil war, that's certain. Beyond that, details are scarce. The general idea is that the balance of power shifted following the attack, leading to some families preying on others," Syl answered before adding, “no news from your friend.”
Immanuel sat eating for a while before he starting assessing their situation. “Look. If the fucking Prima really miscalculated to such an extend about the sects, it could well be he lost the civil war too, and the victor might not attack. We need another plan.” He said.
“I feel this to be true.” She answered. “There is a celebration coming up. There will be a nightly ceremony to the spirits. There will be parties out to hunt and a lot of drugs to reach the required state of mind. I believe that would be our best hope.” She pursed her lips.
“Agreed?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Agreed.” Immanuel answered. “Wish I could do more.” He added again. “You could always give me more blood.” She said with a cheeky smile. So he held out his hands.
---
That evening, Syl burst in.
"Immanuel," she called out.
He instantly flashed up, "yes?"
"Scouts have been sighted and eliminated, just like before. I believe an attack is coming."
"Good. This might be our best opportunity."
"Here, I found your sword." In the dim light, he hadn't noticed the sword she was holding. Elated, he took it from her.
"I traded it with Masnar. It looks like a plain sword," she said.
"That's exactly its charm," Immanuel replied, his smile conveying his satisfaction.
"I've brought a black robe, typically worn by our initiates. Once the conflict erupts, we'll have to move out and play it by ear. If the attackers bring a formidable force, the stronghold should be mostly vacated."
"Perhaps we should raid a storage area for more cores?"
"We should, and we will. I'm eager to see the true capacity of your spatial artefact," she affirmed, moving closer to rest her cheek against his. "I'm scared, Immanuel. It's been a long time since I've felt like this," she whispered.
"Fear can be a good thing. It means there's something to lose," he told her. She nodded in agreement and departed.
Left alone, Immanuel held the black robes and sword feeling a heavy brick inside his stomach.
---
The attack started with a ground-shaking explosion, sending dust cascading from the walls. "Prima must have brought reinforcements, and they're furious," Immanuel deduced, flashing out of his small cell. He draped the black robes over his form and felt his sword.
Three more detonations, almost simultaneous, jolted the structure once more. Anxiety etched on his face, Immanuel cast a wary eye towards the ceiling. "Syl, where are you..." he muttered under his breath.
At last, she burst into the room, a whirlwind of urgency. Immanuel extended his arm, but she waved it off. "You need to conserve your strength.”
She tugged him towards the slightly ajar door. Through the gap, Immanuel heard the hurried footsteps of many.
“Wait.” She said.
The minutes past slowly. Doing nothing was even harder then going out there among the sect members.
"Now's our chance," Syl said. "Let's go!"
As they dashed out, Immanuel took in his surroundings for the first time. They were in a vast cave, its ceilings arching into high domes. Multiple doors and pathways branched off, leading to unknown destinations. He observed several vampire inhabitants moving with a measured pace, while Lycans scurried about in small, agitated groups. Yet another explosion reverberated through the structure, adding to the chaos.
Immanuel and Syl moved swiftly along the cave wall, with her leading at a remarkable speed. Immanuel, fueling his core at a low intensity, kept pace effortlessly. She navigated the labyrinthine paths with precision, veering left into another hallway, then taking another sharp left. Midway down this corridor, a pallid, sickly thin boy with white skin came from the other side.
"Relocate to the cellars! There's been a breach!" Syl shouted at him. The boy's expression shifted to confusion, but before he could react, Syl was upon him. She leaped the remaining distance, biting viciously into his neck while her hands, transformed into elongated claws, pierced his sides. The encounter was brutally swift; the boy crumpled to the ground as she withdrew her bloodied fingers.
Without pausing to reflect, Syl resumed her sprint. Another left turn brought them to a large room with imposing double doors. "We need to get through her office. There's another way out," she explained, halting briefly. A horde of Lycans rushed past them, disappearing into an adjacent hallway. Seizing the moment, they dashed across the room and entered another narrow passage, soon reaching a door.
Unlocking the door with a key she produced, Syl entered the room, followed by Immanuel who commented, "Preparation is half the battle." The room they entered was a hybrid of a study and an enchanting workshop, filled with large tables laden with various tools and equipment.
"I need some of this equipment and these books to continue my evolutions," Syl said, swiftly gathering books and tossing them onto the desk for Immanuel.
However, Immanuel encountered a problem. He couldn't place the items into his spatial storage. Frustrated, he realized the issue might be his active use of core energy. "Is this the first time I've tried using the storage while burning core energy? Calm down," he thought to himself. After shutting off his core and taking a few deep breaths to regain composure, he tried again. Nothing.
Taking some more time, he tried again. This time, the storage functioned correctly, much to his relief.
He began to methodically store the heavy, leather-bound tomes with thick pages, managing to secure 16 books in total. Then, he moved to the equipment-laden table, carefully storing each item that Syl pointed out.
She walked to the back and started to hand him bottles and herbs.
“That’s it.” I need one more thing. They turned and there was a woman standing there looking even more disgusted than a regular vampire. Like she was teaching a toddler how to make a funny face. Two corner teeth were visible. She slowly approached. Immanuel started burning his core and pulled out his sword.
"He can heal you," Syl spoke softly, her voice imbued with a tenderness Immanuel hadn’t heard before. "He healed my sickness, the constant nausea. It's all gone now." Her voice wavered ever so slightly.. She advanced towards the woman. "Just one drop of his blood, and you can be free of your curse too," she said.
"Look at me," Syl urged, taking a deep breath and stepping closer. "I am no longer under the curse. Just one drop... he has plenty." The woman's eyes flickered briefly towards Immanuel, and in that instant, Syl lunged, her fingers morphing into bony claws as she struck.
However, this vampire was swift. Transforming into a more nightmarish form, she retaliated, sinking her claws into Syl. Immanuel, reacting instantly, flashed beside them, channeling more power into his sword than ever before. It glowed like a golden lightsaber, and with a single, powerful swing, he decapitated the woman.
Her head hit the floor with a dull thud. Syl, weakened, collapsed to her knees, wrenching the creature's long, spine-like fingers from her body. "That was too close," she gasped, pain and relief mingling in her voice.
“I am happy you are following my rules of honorary combat.” Said Immanuel.
Syl chuckled weakly at Immanuel's comment, "your rules of honorable combat?" she queried, between shallow breaths.
"Yes, though they're more like guidelines I'm figuring out as I go," Immanuel replied, a playful glint in his eyes. "Rule one: always assume your opponent is an atomic bomb.
"Atomic bomb?" Syl echoed, unfamiliar with the term but grasping its implication.
"Exactly. Something overwhelmingly powerful," he explained.
"And what about the other rules?" she asked, her wounds gradually healing.
"Rule two: never engage in combat for something that can also be bought."
"Or stolen," Syl interjected, her sly grin returning.
"Or stolen," Immanuel conceded with a nod.
"And rule three," he continued, "a surprise attack is the best attack."
Syl nodded in agreement. "Sounds like you're developing quite the combat philosophy," she remarked, the pain in her voice subsiding as her strength slowly returned.
Upon rising, Syl said, "I'm searching for a very specific book." She began rummaging through the room again. Meanwhile, Immanuel focused on calming his core energy enough to store the woman's corpse. His sword gradually reverted to its normal steel hue.
As Syl continued her search, Immanuel cautiously peeked outside the room. The corridors were now eerily silent, suggesting everyone had retreated to their designated posts or shelters.
Suddenly, Syl's voice broke the silence. "Yes!" She rushed over to Immanuel, triumphantly holding a small, unremarkable book. "Never judge a book by its cover," Immanuel quipped, to which she responded with a smile. He stored the book safely away.
"Let's move," Syl urged, and they resumed their hurried pace. Another distant explosion echoed through the vast space, a reminder of the ongoing battle. They traversed square after square until they reached a set of massive double doors that refused to open.
"No hidden passage?" Immanuel inquired.
"Not that I'm aware of," she replied.
Immanuel unsheathed his sword, channeling a substantial amount of energy into it until it glowed like a lightsaber. He attempted to burn through the lock and then the door itself, but to no avail.
"Conserve your strength," Syl advised. "We'll just have to rely on the cores you already have."
A fleeting thought of the cores he could have acquired crossed Immanuel's mind, but he quickly let it go. They continued their escape, eventually arriving at the largest chamber yet, a gruesome scene of carnage with dismembered body parts and blood splattered everywhere. An ominous set of dark, blood-stained doors stood ajar.
"The master's chambers are open," Syl whispered apprehensively. "If he's there, we stand no chance."
"I don't hear anyone. Let's check it out," Immanuel decided.
They entered the room, only to find utter devastation. Blood was splattered across every surface, amidst torn books and shattered wood. A gaping hole marred both the ceiling and the floor, speaking of a violent struggle that had taken place.
"There!" exclaimed Syl, her eyes locked onto a sleek, black sword that seemed to absorb the very light around it. The weapon was extraordinarily long, almost twice Immanuel's height, and impossibly thin, with a blade tapering to a sharp point. Its cross-guard was elongated, and the hilt was sizable.
"Store this," she directed. Immanuel began the process of calming his core energy once more. Meanwhile, Syl busied herself with scavenging through books, occasionally tossing one towards Immanuel for storage. When he was able to, Immanuel carefully lifted the sword. It was surprisingly light, yet it emanated an unnerving aura that made his hair stand on end. He stored it along with the books.
Next, she unearthed a chest, which she handed over without opening. He stored it as well, followed by a huge dark shield that she found under the debris.
"We should move on," Syl said decisively. "We'll pass through the Lycan areas next, then head downwards. From there, it should be a straight path." She paused, looking at Immanuel with a smile that lit up her weary features. "I love your scent," she remarked, standing at a distance that left Immanuel feeling a mix of emotions. He managed a strained smile in response, which drew a laugh from her.
She then cautiously approached the door, peeked outside, and seeing no one, started running. Immanuel quickly followed, keeping pace as they navigated through the chaos and destruction towards their escape.