Chapter 2: Chapter1 PART 2 : THE bloody bastards
Drawing closer, the vampire's ferocious grin sent a chill down the arcanist's spine. A menacing growl reverberated throughout the room as the vampire spoke dark words of magic, weaving powerful runes in the air. In an instant, the arcanist was hurled against the wall, overcome with dread from the immense strength of the vampire's spell.
Gritting his teeth, he channeled his magical senses, scouring for any chink in the vampire's armor. The magical grip weakened as he discerned a vulnerability that could be exploited. When he opened his eyes he found himself engulfed in a sea of red, facing off against the vampiric figure. "You cannot challenge me," the creature taunted him confidently. But instead of conceding to defeat, the arcanist bared his teeth and raised his silver sword, brimming with lightning-infused power.
The battle had begun as they clashed blades and spells together in a whirlwind of dust and lightning bolts. The vampire lord's dark magic summoned a portal of infinite evil, intent on consuming them both. Refusing to let go of his determination, the arcanist looked deep within himself and unleashed one final blast of lightning that struck its mark with a thunderous roar. In a flash of blinding light, the vampire lord was reduced to nothing more than ashes scattered across the floor.
The town was safe; victory was achieved. But soon after the high of victory passed, reality hit home – his own injuries were grave and needed tending to quickly. Summoning whatever energy he had left, he sheathed his sword and limped away from the manor. A steady hand steadied him— the woman he had saved earlier. She smiled softly, helping him She smiled back, gratitude and admiration shining within her.
"Zellrid, my debt to you is immeasurable. Your courage saved us all."
The arcanist's wounds were severe, and his vision was starting to blur. As he stumbled down the street, he tried to focus on the woman's face, she smiled, "Even the mighty Zellrid occasionally needs a helping hand." He chuckled, despite the pain, "You learn to laugh at Death's face when you deal with forces beyond comprehension."
He then let out a scoff and spoke "I'm not dumb, you know. I didn't even tell you my name. And those red eyes of yours- they don't escape me either. So who are you?"
The woman's expression shifted to one of gloom and sadness as she paused before she spoke. "I don't believe it can be kept hidden any longer," she said with a trembling voice. "I am now a vampire, and I feel less than human. The same vampire who had tried to end my life before ended up turning me into this creature I've become, and I'm scared of what I might do. If I become too dangerous, please promise me you'll put me out of my misery."
The woman's true identity sent a jolt of surprise through Zellrid. Despite his training as an arcanist, he hadn't expected to miss bite marks on the victim. But before he could act, the woman immobilized him with her powers and vanished into the night like a swirl of dark fog.
Zellrid was frustrated as he lay there, motionless. As he lay there, "oh great, Now I'm afflicted with misfortune, he thought bitterly, as he attempted to move his limbs only to be overwhelmed with pain. The time passed slowly, but he lay there immobile and exposed. Eventually, the screams of the villagers began to pierce through his consciousness. Zellrid could feel his body slowly regaining strength as the villagers' cries grew louder. He forced himself to stand up, using his sword as support. He stumbled towards the source of the screams, his mind racing with possibilities of what could be causing such chaos. As Zellrid approached the town,
he saw a horrifying sight. Gruesome remains were scattered across the ground, and a thin layer of blood covered everything. The thick smell of death filled the air, making it hard to inhale. Zellrid's heart dropped as he realized he had arrived too late to help anyone. Right when Zellrid was surveying the scene, an ear-splitting scream came from the nearby inn. Zellrid ran towards the direction of the scream, his senses heightened in anticipation crashing through the doors to a scene of chaos. Blood and disorder painted the inn's walls and floors. Amidst the carnage stood the woman he had saved earlier, her eyes ablaze with an unnatural fury.
Her skin had paled, her teeth elongated into menacing fangs—she had become the very creature he feared, a vampire. The sight of her sent shivers down his spine as she lunged at him with inhuman speed. He narrowly evaded her assault, his mind racing for a strategy.
Backpedaling, he spotted a glimmer of stained glass on the floor, illuminated by sunlight. Acting on instinct, he seized it, twisted it, and drove it into her heart. But she showed no sign of pain or weakness. "Well, it was worth a try," he muttered.
Desperate, he reached for his sword, which lay far from his reach. A surge of panic gripped him; defenseless against the vampire, his mind raced for an escape. The creature's cruel laughter echoed, reveling in the terror she invoked.
"Did you truly believe a single glass shard could defeat me?" Her voice was seductive, dripping with taunts. Zellrid's mind raced for a plan. Focusing on his training and vampire weaknesses, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a small vial of sun dust.
He hurled the vial at the vampire, a cry of pain escaping her as the dust burned her skin. In her moment of distraction, Zellrid fled through the door, out into the daylight. He knew he couldn't let her continue her rampage in the town.
His heart pounded, the events of the past minutes replaying in his mind. He had escaped death's clutches, yet the woman's transformation haunted him. Guilt gnawed at him; he felt responsible for her fate.
With a heavy heart and his injuries, Zellrid continued on his journey, plagued by tormenting thoughts. The road seemed endless, his guilt an insurmountable weight.
The echoes of his decisions haunted him; " Why do I care for her I could kill her but why do I care" zellrid said
The world blurred around him, his thoughts his only companions. Each step felt heavier, his heart heavier, the burden of guilt unyielding.
The guilt he carried felt like an anchor, a stone tied to his soul. He could almost taste it, the sharp tang of remorse. His steps slowed as he leaned against a tree, seeking solace but finding none.
Memories flooded back—the smile, the laughter, the moments they'd shared. They seemed like fragments of a distant past, and he longed for them as he never had before.
Reality was a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. Determined yet tortured, he steeled himself, taking a deep breath and pushing on. He enacted a spell to lessen his pain for five hours, moving relentlessly forward.
Trees and surroundings blurred as he raced onward, the wind whipping past him. He charged through the forest, pursued by thunder and wind,
Upon entering the inn, a distinct sense of unease lingered. The door was open, a faint light seeping through. Suppressing his doubts, he ventured further, driven by his mission. The stench of blood and decay hit him, his stomach twisting.
The floor was slick with crimson, a grisly testament to a massacre. Grief and anger intertwined as he surveyed the gruesome scene. His mind echoed with disbelief—how could this horror unfold?
A faint sound drew his attention upstairs. A soft moan, barely audible. His heart raced; it sounded like her. He ran up, his anticipation building. The sight that greeted him was both horrifying and heartbreaking.
She lay on the bed, drenched in blood. Yet, despite the brutality, her appearance was ethereal. Pale skin, cascading hair—a striking image marred by the horror around her. Zellrid's emotions conflicted; her beauty was overshadowed by the carnage.
Approaching cautiously, he was torn between concern and fear. He reached out to touch her cheek, her reaction a mix of pain and awakening. Her eyes met his, and within their depths, he sensed anger, hatred, and something he couldn't decipher. The past surged back—the fight, her transformation.
As realization struck, he recoiled, stepping away. She caught his arm, her grip stronger than expected. The proximity sent shivers down his spine; her breath was hot on his face. Their gazes locked, revealing hunger and thirst he couldn't ignore.
He understood the danger and tried to pull away, but her grip tightened. Fear and panic surged as he yelled, "Let go of me!" Yet, her hold remained unyielding, nails digging into his flesh. It was clear he was in a perilous situation, like the town before him.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone