The shouts and clashes south of Tyrosh gradually faded, signaling that the Dragon Guard squads had already cleared out the vampires in that area. Several eagles soared overhead as a few shapeshifter mages rushed from the magic academy to provide support.
The crimson glow atop the distant castle remained, and following its direction led to a street near the grand theater. Charging forward, Dickon Tarly held a longsword in one hand and a crossbow bolt in the other.
Click, click, click—three bowstrings loosened in succession. Illuminated by the torches of the city watch, three silver crossbow bolts streaked toward the rooftop of a third-floor building ahead of Dickon.
A creature with greenish-blue skin was sprinting across the rooftops, leaping from one to the next. As it soared through the air once more, the three bolts were already upon it.
Any other vampire would have found it impossible to evade at such close range and would have been struck down. But this one was different. Its resistance to magic was noticeably stronger. Even under the crimson glow of Quaithe's magical eye, which should have interfered with its internal magic, the effect was minimal.
It was stronger—each leap allowed it to cross entire streets and land on the rooftops beyond. It was also far more agile.
The three silver bolts did not make it dodge. Instead, the very aura of silver, designed to slay the undead, enraged the vampire. It let out a furious screech, twisted violently in midair, and slashed with its back limbs and arms, both glowing with white energy. The three bolts were struck down, clattering to the ground.
The vampire, disrupted in its flight, failed to land on the rooftop and began falling toward the wall.
"Hiss~~"
With a sharp cry, it dug its back limbs into the wall to grip onto it, then kicked off with tremendous force. But instead of fleeing, it hurled itself straight down toward Dickon from the third floor.
As the Dragon Guard's commander, Dickon had undergone the grueling training personally overseen by Wright. Earlier, he and Howland had worked together to kill three vampires. But he instantly recognized that this one was different—a much greater threat than the others.
Always remain calm, never act impulsively, and never fear looking foolish. Heeding Wright's teachings, Dickon saw the creature rapidly closing in and swiftly sidestepped. Planting his longsword into the ground, he used the force of the push to roll away, narrowly dodging the vampire's attack.
Boom!
The vampire's enchanted claws shattered several bricks on the street. Before the surrounding city watch could react, the creature had already risen and lunged at Dickon with outstretched arms.
Dickon, just getting back to his feet, saw the attack coming but could no longer evade. He could only raise his sword to counter.
Clang!
The moment his longsword clashed with the vampire's claws, a shock of pain shot through Dickon's hands. His grip nearly faltered, and he almost lost the sword entirely.
"Kill the monster!" The city watch shouted to steel their nerves, raising their axes and swinging at the vampire.
The creature dodged a strike and sank its fangs into a soldier's neck. A crimson glow flared. In an instant, several others collapsed, their blood drained, their bodies shriveling into dry husks within seconds.
"Stay back!" Dickon's warning came too late.
The young recruits of the city watch froze in terror, gripping their axes tightly but instinctively retreating. Their eyes locked onto the vampire standing in the middle of the street.
Seizing the moment, Dickon surged forward, gripping the hilt of Heartsbane with his right hand while his gauntleted left hand clutched the sword's midsection. With all his strength, he drove the Valyrian steel blade deep into the vampire's waist.
"Damn it!" Dickon cursed, looking up at the towering monstrosity. He had used every ounce of strength he had, yet the vampire seemed unfazed.
Thud!
A solid punch slammed into Dickon's chest plate, sending him flying through a shop's wooden door and crashing inside.
Valyrian steel was deadly to the undead, and Heartsbane continued burning the creature's wound. Yet the vampire didn't utter a single cry of pain. Instead, it reached down, grasped the hilt, and, ignoring the sizzling of its own flesh, yanked the sword out and tossed it aside.
At that moment, four streaks of violet light flashed—magic arrows embedded themselves deep into the vampire's back.
"Mage!" The enraged vampire turned to see a figure in leather armor rushing toward it.
Four more violet arrows flew. The vampire twisted to dodge but was immediately met with another volley.
"I'll tear you apart!" the vampire roared, now with eight magical arrows buried in its flesh.
The approaching man, Jojen Reed, gripped a summoned violet longbow in both hands, drawing its ethereal string. Each time he pulled back, four arrows materialized from his own magic, negating the need to reach for a quiver. His rate of fire was near inhuman—one man firing as swiftly as an entire squad of archers.
Enraged, the vampire charged forward, enduring another round of arrows before leaping toward Jojen with outstretched claws.
Jojen flicked his left hand, making his magical bow vanish, then brought both hands together, summoning a bright violet glow.
"Hah!"
With a powerful shout, he parted his hands, and a violet spear materialized between them. He planted its butt against the ground, bracing his foot against it, leveling the tip toward the oncoming foe.
The spear tip pierced the vampire's chest.
"Open!" Jojen gathered his magic once more. The spear embedded in the vampire's body began to change, sprouting barbs that tore through its flesh and emerged from its skin.
"Ahhhh!"
The vampire let out a painful scream, but its movements remained as agile as ever. Jojen abandoned his spear and rushed toward Dickon's landing spot.
Though the attack had seemed fierce and effective, it had consumed a great deal of Jojen's magic. Worse, these wounds were nothing more than painful inconveniences to the vampire—its injuries had already begun to heal. Jojen understood that he had to rescue Dickon first. He was the only one who knew how to deal with the creature. If Dickon wasn't there to help, once Jojen's magic was depleted, he would be as good as dead.
"Dickon!"
Jojen shouted as he charged into a nearby shop. The city guards had already pulled Dickon from beneath the collapsed shelves.
"Dickon!" Jojen ran to his dust-covered companion and shook him forcefully.
"I'm not dead yet!"
The specially crafted silver-plated armor had negated part of the undead's power, saving Dickon's life, but the impact had left him in bad shape. That kick had knocked him unconscious.
As he stood up, Dickon felt a sharp pain in his chest. Looking down, he saw a footprint-shaped dent in the center of his breastplate. A few ribs were probably broken. Without the armor's protection, his chest would have been left with a gaping hole.
"It's coming again!" Jojen shouted.
The magical spear, having left its wielder's hand, did not last long. The weapon that had punctured the vampire with over a dozen holes vanished, and its wounds were rapidly closing.
The vampire lunged at Dickon once more, claws aiming for his head. Still dazed, Dickon was slow to react, and death seemed imminent. Fortunately, Jojen used Mage Hand to grab Dickon and pull him away just in time.
Having missed its target, the vampire shifted its second strike toward Jojen.
Midair, the vampire extended its claws, gripping the ground tightly and using the momentum to pivot. It raised its leg and kicked at Jojen's body before spinning to land steadily on its feet.
Even metal armor had been dented by its kicks—Jojen, clad only in leather armor, had no way to dodge. His only option was to conjure a translucent magic shield to block the blow.
Boom!
The impact sent Jojen flying, and since he was still holding Dickon with Mage Hand, they both crashed onto the street.
"Brothers, we cannot retreat! We must defend our home!"
"Kill!"
More and more city guards gathered—nearly two hundred now lined the street. The veterans rallied the troops, while the rookies, knowing that this city was their home, resolved to buy time for the mages to arrive. If they failed, their loved ones would be slaughtered.
With reckless determination, they raised their battle axes and charged at the monster.
"Ahhhhhh!"
Red flashes of magic flickered amidst the chaos. Axes whistled through the air, accompanied by agonized screams.
Yet, even under siege, the vampire only grew more energetic. Every wound it suffered vanished in an instant, fully healed.
Without special weapons or magic, ordinary soldiers only served as its sustenance, fueling its regeneration.
The pile of corpses grew higher, forming a grim barricade. But despite their lack of experience—most had enlisted less than a week ago—the soldiers kept attacking, sacrificing their lives to buy more time.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Heavy footsteps echoed from the street's far end.
The sound of a single person running—each step landing with the weight of a warhorse. The clang of iron boots striking the ground, the creak of armor plates rubbing against each other.
Whoever it was, they were massive.
"Move aside!" The outer ranks of the city guards shouted, clearing a path.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
A towering warrior in silver-white full plate charged at the vampire. Over two meters tall, he ran past the city guards like an adult striding through a crowd of children.
His helmet bore two tall, ram-like horns. In his right hand, he wielded a weapon; in his left, he raised a massive, iron-reinforced tower shield to his chest. His posture leaned forward, fully committed to his charge.
Seeing that the approaching human warrior matched its height, the vampire made no adjustments to its stance. As it had done with the city guards, it simply raised its arm, intending to swat the shield aside with sheer strength.
Before making contact with the vampire, flames erupted across the surface of the shield, with the center featuring a bas-relief of a dragon's head. Two fiery eyes, made of flame, stared directly at the vampire in front of it.
Bang!
The shield was not knocked away; the warrior's body held firm against it, using his equipment and strength to withstand the attack.
"Ah!" It was magical fire! The flames crawled up the vampire's arm, causing intense pain and making it scream in agony.
"Ha!"
The warrior pushed the shield forward with his left hand, sending the vampire staggering back a step.
"Ha!"
Taking advantage of the distraction caused by the fire, the warrior used the front of his shield to strike the vampire's neck, forcing it to retreat several more steps and instinctively hunch down to protect its neck. At that moment, flames also began to burn on the warrior's armor.
"Ha-ha!"
With a swift motion, the warrior swung the shield to his left side. With his chest exposed, the vampire saw the opening and reached to attack, but the warrior's right hand swung a massive two-handed dragon-headed war hammer down.
The vampire twisted its body, narrowly dodging the hammer, but the hammer struck its left thigh. The dragon's head on the war hammer's front exploded with fire, specifically designed to harm vampires.
Boom!
A massive explosion and burst of flames enveloped both the warrior and the vampire.
When the flames cleared, the armored warrior stood unharmed.
Beneath him, the vampire's lower body had turned to ash, leaving only its charred upper torso crawling along the ground, which soon stopped moving.
"We won?"
"Is that Lord Wright? But he's not that tall!"
"It's Ellios Chiheda! A great noble from Volantis!"
Many of the newly enlisted peasants did not recognize him, but every noble who attended last week's banquet remembered him.
Ellios Chiheda was hard to miss due to his striking appearance—massive, muscular, and over two meters tall. In all of Tyrosh, there was no one else like him. As he removed his helmet, his platinum hair cascaded down to his waist, revealing a strikingly handsome face. His giant frame and slender, handsome features made for a sharp contrast, ensuring anyone who looked at him would remember him.
"We won!" The surviving soldiers cheered as they gathered around.
"That was tough!" Jojen supported Dicken with one arm, and the two limped over together. After the cheers subsided, the soldiers began to collect the bodies.
As they got closer to the vampire's remains, Dicken suddenly shouted, "Ellios, watch out! The vampire is still alive!" The surrounding soldiers stopped what they were doing, and only then did they notice the red glow from the castle's eyes still shining toward them.
The half-destroyed vampire lay on the ground. Lacking a heartbeat, body temperature, or breath, it quietly began to drink the blood from the ground. Dicken had spotted it just in time, and the vampire immediately launched two sharp limbs toward Ellios' legs.
Ellios' armor had been enhanced with magical inscriptions. After buying a full set of wand-making books, the high command quickly gathered materials and began crafting wands. As one of the strongest warriors and a pre-selected Dragon Priest of the Dragon Cult, Ellios was the first to receive the benefit of these enhanced magical inscribed armors.
However, the magical inscriptions consumed vast amounts of energy, and the anti-vampire properties of his armor vanished once the flame magic was turned off. The vampire's sharp limbs easily pierced the back of Ellios' knee armor.
Buzz~~Boom!
Caught off guard, Ellios remained silent as his knees buckled under him. Despite his inability to kneel fully, he instinctively swung his war hammer in retaliation.
"Ah~~"
The vampire, having regained some strength, tried to crawl forward, but the hammer struck its hand, forcing it to retreat.
Dicken shoved Jojen aside and retrieved three silver metal rods connected by chains from his back. After adjusting the chains with his hands, he threw the rods into the air, and they quickly combined into a long spear.
With a few swift steps, Dicken lunged forward and drove the spear into the vampire's body from behind.
Hiss~~~
A screech erupted as a thick, smoky mist poured out from the vampire, its body seeming to burn from the inside. Soon, it turned to a pile of blue-white ash.
The silver spearhead was specially designed to deal with vampires.
"Dicken, can you explain what the hell this thing is?" Ellios, still irked from the surprise attack, grabbed a healing potion from his belt and began drinking it in large gulps.
The monsters in the city had been cleared, and the Eye of Wright turned yellow. It swept across the city before returning to its blue color and finally disappearing, leaving behind a lighthouse with a burning brazier.
The residents began to emerge, starting to clean the streets and prepare funerals for the dead. The city guards gathered the bodies of their fallen comrades and recorded their names and the causes of death.
The next morning, in the waters north of Bloodstone Port, a merchant ship that had departed from Tyrosh the night before sailed full speed ahead.
"Look at the descendants you've developed; a bunch of misfits! You've completely messed up our plans!" A nobleman dressed in fine clothes shouted from the bow of the ship.
"Heh, isn't it your fault? You sent the task, but you had to write it down! Don't you know many of my descendants can't read?" A man with a thick beard and a northern appearance replied.
The nobleman roared, "We have the purest bloodline in our veins, and you! You've recruited farmers, herders, commoners, and even wildlings!"
The bearded man was unfazed, grabbing a wine bottle, snapping the top off with his hand, and drinking a large gulp before responding, "Noble? I remember your master was a wildling too! Besides, if we only recruit nobles, who will handle the grunt work? Who will run errands? Will you do it?"
The two of them were vampires, and from their conversation, it was clear they were from two different factions.
As the two vampires continued to argue, a pair of hands suddenly rested on their shoulders from behind.
A voice came from behind, "You two really think you can come and go as you please?"
The two vampires were stunned. An unknown person had silently boarded the ship!
As they turned to face the threat, the hands gripping their shoulders tightened like iron clamps, and no matter how much the two vampires struggled, the hands didn't budge, thanks to their overwhelming strength.
They could smell the human scent behind them but were unable to turn their heads to see who it was, nor could they move their bodies.
"Who are you?" The noble vampire asked.
"Prisoners have no right to ask questions!"
Crack
The vampire's jaw was roughly dislocated with a swift motion.
The entire ship was now surrounded by a white magical glow, and even those inside the cabin were being controlled. The two vampires helplessly looked up at the sky.
A giant red and white dragon flew through the clouds in the sky, flickering in and out of sight.