The vampire struggled in agony, reaching behind its back to pull out the crossbow bolts. However, the moment its fingers touched the shaft, they sizzled and smoked as if touching red-hot iron.
"Ha~~~!"
The blue-skinned vampire let out a furious roar.
The wooden shafts of the crossbow bolts were wrapped in pure silver, and the arrowheads were also made of pure silver. Four barbs extended from the rear of each arrowhead, embedding deeply into the vampire's flesh, continuously burning it from within.
Enraged, the vampire turned around, wanting to see who had used such a vicious weapon. But before it could locate the shooter, another bolt shot through the window, aiming straight for its face. The vampire had no time to dodge and could only turn sideways, raising an arm to block the shot. The bolt pierced cleanly between the two bones of its forearm, stopping just three centimeters short of its head.
"Three for three!"
A triumphant shout came from the rooftop of a building opposite. A warrior clad in Dragon Guard armor lowered his crossbow.
The Myrish Triple-Shot Crossbow—purchased by Wright and replicated in limited numbers—was a highly sophisticated weapon. Crossbows were regulated by the laws of the Seven Kingdoms; only nobles could purchase them, and even then, they had to report it. The triple-shot variant was expensive and complex to manufacture, so Wright had only issued them to Dragon Guard and high-ranking officers.
"You mortals dare defy the gods?! I shall enact my master's judgment upon you!" the vampire roared, ignoring its injuries as it charged forward, preparing to leap onto the opposite rooftop and slay its attacker.
The moment it rushed out the door, two armored warriors flanked it, swinging their weapons.
"Ignorant humans!"
Having already endured numerous axe strikes, the vampire was confident in its resilience. Seeing two longswords coming at it, it instinctively reached out, attempting to catch the blades with its superior strength and speed.
Slash! Slash!
To its shock, its tough skin and dense bones did nothing to stop the weapons. The longswords sliced through its fingers as if cutting through ordinary flesh.
The two warriors swiftly adjusted their stance, lifting their swords after their strikes connected. Simultaneously, they kicked at the vampire's knees. Their combined strength could have sent an ordinary person tumbling to the ground, but the vampire barely flinched—its knees bent slightly before it regained its balance.
"Ahhh!"
The vampire recoiled, raising its mutilated hands to its chest in a furious roar—only to see its remaining fingers suddenly drop to the ground.
The two warriors struck again. Their blades cleaved through its shoulders, severing both arms.
One of the warriors lifted his helmet's visor and shouted, "It's a newly turned vampire! It has strength but doesn't know how to use it. Capture it alive!"
Immortality did not mean invincibility. Realizing this truth for the first time, the vampire attempted to flee. Though it had lost its arms, its two additional limb-like appendages extended from its back, stabbing toward the two warriors. However, the sharp tips failed to pierce their armor, merely knocking them back a few steps. When the vampire retracted its appendages, it noticed that the tips were damaged and smoking.
Steel-plated silver armor!
At that moment, another warrior rushed forward, wielding a gleaming silver spear.
Run!
These were no ordinary soldiers. Every piece of their equipment was designed specifically to counter it. No longer willing to fight, the vampire focused solely on escape. It leaped onto the railing, sprinted a few steps, then launched itself high into the air—its immense strength carrying it toward the rooftop of the adjacent building.
Great jumping ability was an advantage, but lacking true wings meant the vampire had no control over its trajectory mid-air. Just as it reached the peak of its leap, a rope flew toward it from a third-story balcony.
The rope had a weighted end—an iron hook wrapped in silver. The throw was precise, hooking directly onto the vampire's chest. A light tug caused the barbed hook to embed deeper into its flesh.
"Get back here!"
The other end of the rope was secured to a stone pillar. The moment the soldier saw that the hook had found its mark, he grabbed the rope's middle section and leaped off the balcony. Using his weight and the added burden of his armor, he yanked the rope downward with tremendous force.
"No!"
With the pull, the barbed hook dug further into the vampire's chest, hooking onto its ribs. With a loud crash, the vampire was violently yanked from the air, slamming into the ground below.
The soldier who had thrown the rope gripped a marked section of it, ensuring his descent stopped at just the right height—allowing him to land safely on the second-story exterior wall. He then began descending further by scaling the rope.
A standard Dragon Guard unit consisted of five members: three attackers and two support units. This was their practiced formation.
"Deploy the net! Quickly!"
The squad leader yelled as he ran down the stairs.
"Clear the area! Step back! It's not dead yet!"
The Dragon Guard who had previously fired the crossbow bolt had now reached the ground. He saw a group of city guards rushing in, weapons drawn, attempting to surround and kill the vampire. But if they were affected by blood magic, the vampire, having absorbed fresh blood, would quickly regain its fighting strength.
"Die, monster!"
As expected, an enraged city guard swung his axe at the dazed vampire's neck. The strike only left a shallow wound, but the pain jolted the creature awake. Two appendages sprouted from its back, instantly piercing the soldier's throat from both sides. A spray of blood splattered across the vampire's face.
"Die!"
The blood, instead of merely spilling onto the ground, began to flow backward, converging from the dirt and fabric into the vampire's mouth. A deep gulp of blood didn't restore its severed hands, but it did replenish most of its stamina.
With a swift roll, the vampire leaped up, stabbing its auxiliary limbs into several city guards before dashing toward a small building, grabbing onto a stone pillar and climbing upward.
"Damn! It's escaping!" The Dragon Guard who had thrown the grappling hook shouted. His rope was still recoiling, making it impossible to throw again in time.
Just as the soldiers below looked up, a figure burst from a third-floor room. Upon spotting the climbing vampire, the person didn't hesitate. With two quick strides, they vaulted over the railing and landed directly on the vampire's back, locking their legs around its waist. Their left hand hooked around its neck while the right plunged a dagger into its throat.
"It's Ingo!"
The vampire thrashed wildly. One appendage clung to the stone pillar, while another stabbed furiously at its own back.
"AHHH!"
Ingo roared like a madman, stabbing repeatedly, undeterred. The vampire's skin was not armor—if one stab couldn't pierce it, then two would; if two only tore the surface, then three would draw blood. Ingo and the vampire were locked in a death struggle, seeing who would fall first.
Just as Ingo's strength began to wane, a silver hook shot past his vision, latching onto the vampire's collarbone.
"Pull!"
Below, more than a dozen city guards yanked on the rope simultaneously.
"No! How can insignificant humans do this?!"
The vampire was left hanging, only its feet still gripping the pillar. Its body was forcibly stretched into a horizontal position, with Ingo still clinging to its back, relentlessly stabbing its throat.
Then, a Dragon Guard rushed forward and, with a single sword stroke, severed the vampire's feet. It let out a furious shriek as it plummeted onto the plaza.
This time, it was not the city guards who surrounded it but four Dragon Guards.
"Why? Why is this happening?!"
The vampire realized its blood magic had no effect on these warriors.
First, they dragged the gravely wounded Ingo away. A city guard captain retrieved a blue healing potion from his belt, pried open Ingo's mouth, and poured it down his throat. His upper body was riddled with wounds—whether he would survive was now left to fate.
With a few precise sword strikes, the Dragon Guards severed the vampire's auxiliary limbs. The captain turned to the others and barked, "Silver net!"
The crossbow-wielding warrior slung off his pack, retrieved a specially made net, and, with the help of another warrior, flung it over the vampire.
The net was crafted with interwoven silver threads, and each intersection was fitted with a small pure-silver hook. Once the net was tightened, the more the vampire struggled, the deeper the hooks embedded into its flesh.
"You foolish humans! My master will come for me! It will destroy you all!"
Hearing the bound creature still spewing threats, the captain's face darkened.
"Bit gag!" he commanded.
The crossbow warrior rummaged through his pack once more, pulling out an iron restraint embedded with long spikes.
"Clamp it down! Someone help!"
Without waiting, he grabbed the vampire's hair with one hand and pried open its mouth with the other, keeping his head and body at a safe distance.
"Let me borrow your axe!" The captain sheathed his sword and took an axe from a nearby city guard recruit.
Striding forward, he raised the weapon high and slammed the blunt side of the axe head against the iron gag.
Clang!
The sharp ring of metal echoed through the square.
"AAAHHHH!!!"
A bloodcurdling scream followed.
Clang!
Another Dragon Guard grabbed an axe and joined in.
"Hold it down!" the captain ordered.
Immediately, over a dozen city guards piled on, pinning the violently struggling vampire to the ground.
Clang! Clang!
The two warriors took turns hammering, each strike driving the spikes of the gag deeper into the creature's mouth and throat.
"Is it dead?" A nervous young city guard recruit hesitated as the hammering ceased.
The brutal hammering that had already turned human bodies into pulp had now silenced the creature. The city guards pressing down on the monster noticed that it had stopped breathing, and its body had gone cold.
Its teeth had all been shattered, its dislocated jaw forced open by the iron bit, and the restraining spikes had pierced straight through its throat. Yet, it still let out a muffled groan—"Mmm~~~"—proving it was still alive.
"Holy shit!" One of the men pinning it down jumped back in terror.
"It really is a monster!"
"Don't let your guard down! This isn't over yet—the red light hasn't disappeared!" the squad leader of the Blades shouted.
The eerie red glow from the castle's massive eye had shifted, moving away from this scene and now enveloping another workshop in the distance.
Five Blades took the captured creature with them, leading a large contingent of city guards, leaving only a handful of recruits behind to clear the corpses.
Having swallowed the healing potion, Ingo now leaned weakly against a wall, resigned to fate. He watched with grim satisfaction as the monster was bound and tormented, but his relief turned to sorrow when he saw the guards retrieving bodies from his family's home. His neighbors, his mother, his father, his little brother, even his newly met comrades—all were laid out in the courtyard. Tears streamed uncontrollably down his face.
"Who's Ingo? Where is Ingo?"
Hearing his name being called, Ingo summoned what little strength he had and shouted,
"I... I am!"
A city guard rushed over, took one glance at his armor, and waved behind him. "Over here!"
A makeshift stretcher, hastily assembled from broken wood and torn bed sheets, was carried over. Lying on it was the squad leader, Dom, now missing both arms.
"Ingo, you're really alive!"
Dom's face and lips were pale, but his voice and demeanor remained steady.
"Captain Dom, are you alright?"
"Don't worry about me. I saw you charge outside earlier, then heard all the fighting. Seeing you now, still breathing... I was afraid you were dead!" Dom lay on his back, speaking without the strength to sit up.
"I—" Ingo wanted to say he was gravely injured, likely beyond saving, but when he looked down at himself, he was startled. His armor and tunic were still stained with blood, but through the holes in his armor, he saw that many of his wounds had already closed, leaving behind only thumb-sized, circular scars.
Dom grinned. "First time drinking a healing potion, huh? We veterans who've been to Dorne all carry potions personally crafted by Lady Tyene. You can't deny—they work wonders."
"But I still can't move my legs, and my head is spinning!" Ingo protested.
Dom chuckled. "Healing potions mend wounds, but they don't replenish blood."
"If I'm recovering, then, Captain... have you had any? What about your arms?" Ingo looked at Dom's missing limbs, realizing that the man would never be able to serve as a city guard again.
Dom glanced at his waist. "My potion was crushed."
"Why? What about the mages? They can use healing magic!" Ingo roared in frustration, noticing the soaked leather pouch at Dom's side.
"Calm down, Ingo! Look at the sky! The red light is still there. We're not the only ones wounded or dead—the monsters are still rampaging through Tyrosh!" Dom's eyes shifted to the sky, watching as the giant floating eye changed its focus once more. That meant another threat had been dealt with elsewhere.
Then, Dom turned back to him. "Ingo, you're only twelve. You still have a whole life ahead of you. Your family is gone, and I don't have much time left. Come closer—take my necklace and wear it around your neck."
Ingo struggled but couldn't move. Desperate, he called out to the nearby city guards. "Can someone help me?"
A young recruit walked over, crouched beside Dom, and fumbled with his breastplate. After a few moments, he unlatched a necklace from the side of Dom's armor. "Is this it?"
The recruit, seeing both men were too weak to speak further, simply placed the necklace beside Ingo and left to continue his duties.
Tears blurred Ingo's vision. He looked at Dom and choked out, "Dom... is this the one?"
The squad leader lying on the stretcher didn't respond.
"Captain Dom, is this the one?"
Ingo repeated his question over and over, his voice rising in desperation.
"Captain Dom, is this the one?"
Several recruits, drawn by the cries, came over. One of them knelt and placed a hand on Dom's neck, then turned to his comrades. "He bled out. He's gone."
But Ingo didn't hear. He could only sob.
The recruits whispered among themselves, piecing together what had happened. They now understood—this was Ingo's home, and the bodies lying around were his family and friends.
An older recruit, grasping the weight of the situation, picked up the necklace from the ground, undid its clasp, and fastened it around the neck of the twelve-year-old boy. He gently tapped the golden dragon-head pendant.
"Your family would want you to live on. And Captain Dom... he'll always be with you."