Cassandra, Emma, and the remaining vampire knights had just finished clearing the room, their blades still dripping, when a new vampire knight burst through the doorway, his chest heaving with exertion and excitement.
"Everyone, incredible news!" he practically shouted, his voice echoing off the blood-splattered walls. "Our Lord Leonidas has returned! Long live the Fire Lord Leonidas!"
A wave of relief and renewed vigor swept through the exhausted knights. A collective roar of "Long live the Fire Lord!" erupted, reverberating through the damaged corridors as every vampire knight began chanting their lord's name. Cassandra and Emma exchanged quick, joyful glances, a rare spark of hope igniting in their tired eyes.
The messenger knight strode towards them, giving the two female vampires a swift, respectful bow. "My Ladies, our lord has indeed returned. It won't be long before we reclaim the castle entirely." His tone, however, quickly turned grave. "But there's more. Lord Caden, Lady Reina, Lady Helen, and two other vampire knights are locked in a brutal battle against a giant dark creature at the front of the castle. They're likely in desperate need of assistance."
Emma's face, which had just moments ago been alight with relief, hardened instantly. Her voice, laced with a cold anger, cut through the renewed chanting. "A giant dark creature? Where exactly is this battle taking place? And why in the hell aren't there any other knights supporting them?"
The messenger flinched slightly. "My apologies, Lady Emma. I don't know why there's no support, but the battle rages at the very front of the castle."
Emma turned to Cassandra, her eyes burning with urgency. Before Emma could even voice her thoughts, Cassandra, ever the pragmatist, nodded sharply. "I know. We have to help them." Her voice was decisive, already charting their next move.
Without hesitation, Emma barked orders. "Two of you, with us! We're assisting Reina and the others. The rest of you, sweep the castle. Leave no enemy alive."
As the four selected vampires, including Cassandra and Emma, began their swift descent through the castle's ruined stairwells, Cassandra abruptly veered off course. "Everyone, follow me!" she commanded, her voice firm.
Emma, her brow furrowed with concern, picked up her pace to match her sister's. "Sister, where are you taking us? We need to get to Reina and the others against that monstrous giant, now!"
Cassandra didn't break stride. "I know, sister. But a giant like that won't go down easily. I think we'll need something more than just our blades to bring it down. Let's make a quick detour to the weaponry room first."
A flicker of understanding, then admiration, crossed Emma's face. "That's smart, sister. I didn't even think of that."
"Then let's go!" Cassandra urged, her gaze fixed on their new destination. "Every second counts!"
Moments later, the four vampires reached what was once the grand weaponry room. Before the invasion, it had been a testament to organized efficiency, with bows, arrows, spears, and swords neatly arranged in their designated sections. Now, as they stepped inside, they were met with utter devastation. The room was ravaged beyond belief. Every single weapon was gone, either looted or destroyed by the invaders.
A low growl rumbled from one of the accompanying vampire knights. "Those fucking humans will pay for this."
There were almost no weapons in the room salvageable for the vampires. Most lay twisted and broken or simply gone. One of the accompanying vampire knights crouched to the floor, his gloved hand sifting through the splintered wood and scattered debris. "My Lady," he reported, his voice tinged with frustration, "I think we should leave now and help Master Caden and the others. This room is utterly destroyed; there's nothing here we can use.
Cassandra, however, wasn't listening. Her gaze swept over the ravaged space, her mind already working. Her steps were deliberate as she walked to a darkened corner of the room, far from the main entrance. She extended her right hand, her fingers brushing against the cold, rough surface of the brick wall. Her hand then slowly moved upwards, tracing an invisible seam.
"I found it," she murmured, a hint of triumph in her voice. Her index and middle fingers pressed against a specific brick, and a faint, mechanical click echoed in the silence. The section of the brick wall began to smoothly shift inward, revealing a hidden recess, before silently sliding to the side. A dark, narrow passage yawned open, revealing secrets within.
"Wow," one of the vampire knights breathed, astonishment clear in his voice.
"Let us proceed, everyone," Cassandra instructed, her voice steady as she stepped through the newly revealed passage, leading them into the depths of the castle.
The four vampires walked in near silence down the dark, enclosed tunnel, their keen vampire senses navigating the gloom. The rhythmic thud of their boots on stone was the only sound for a moment until Emma's curiosity broke the quiet.
"Sister," Emma began, her voice carrying a puzzled edge in the confined space, "why didn't Lord Leonidas just take care of that giant dark creature when he came through the gates? Surely, our lord is strong enough to kill it."
Cassandra considered this, her footsteps steady. "I don't know, Emma. Perhaps the Lord had more pressing matters to attend to than fighting the giant. Or he might have thought that Caden and the others were sufficient to defeat it."
A moment of silence passed before one of the vampire knights, walking just behind Emma, interjected cautiously. "Uhm, My Lady, if I may say something?".
Emma's eyes flickered to him for a second. "You may speak, Knight."
"My lady I heard that the lord is unable to walk"
Cassandra and Emma were both shocked "What do you mean that the lord is unable to walk?" Cassandra said from the front.
"Yes, speak knight" Emma was also curious.
"Well, my lady," the knight began, his voice lowered slightly, "I heard... that the Lord is unable to walk."
Both Cassandra and Emma stopped dead in the tunnel. The implication hit them instantly.
"What do you mean the Lord is unable to walk?" Cassandra demanded from the front, her voice sharp with disbelief.
"Well, my ladies," the knight elaborated, "the reason they say the Lord cannot walk is because the Young Master, John, was spotted... carrying the Lord on his back."
A grim realization settled over Cassandra and Emma.
"Then that means the Lord is currently weak," Emma whispered, the full weight of the news hitting her. "And he probably can't use his powers."
"Yes," Cassandra affirmed, her voice now firm with newfound resolve. "The Lord is putting his faith in us. We cannot let him down."
As they reached the end of the secret passage, a soft light filtered into the tunnel. The group of vampires emerged into a huge, spacious room that gleamed with high-quality weaponry. Racks lined the walls, laden with an array of masterfully crafted swords, axes, spears, and bows, each organized meticulously in its own section. The two accompanying vampire knights' eyes widened, gleaming in the dim light; this was practically a warrior's dream. Anyone with a discerning eye for combat gear could instantly tell that these weapons were of a far superior cut than anything sold in a normal weapon shop, built for true battle, not mere display
In a far corner of the massive room, amidst the gleaming racks, a towering glass cabinet stood apart. Within it, a single, formidable weapon hung upside down: a great sword. It dwarfed every other blade in the armory, its elongated, gleaming steel shimmering with an almost ethereal light. The blade was exceptionally long and broad, tapering to a razor-sharp point, clearly designed for both devastating slashes and powerful thrusts. Its hilt was wrapped in dark brown leather, promising a firm, unyielding grip, while the guard, robust and angular, was crafted from a solid metal that perfectly matched the blade's immense strength.
Cassandra turned her attention to the two vampire knights, who were still wide-eyed, admiring the vast array of high-quality swords. "Both of you," she commanded, her voice cutting through their awe, "pick a sword. Then, grab four additional swords each, and come collect this massive blade."
Aesthetic delight clear on their faces, the two vampire knights moved quickly. Each selected a sword, securing it at their waist, before hurrying back to Cassandra. They stared up at the colossal weapon in the glass cabinet, their expressions a mix of wonder and apprehension.
"My Lady," one of the knights spoke, his voice hushed, "what kind of sword is this? I've never seen anything so... enormous."
Cassandra folded her arms across her chest, a faint, knowing smirk touching her lips. "This sword is called Blazescale," she announced. "It's been sleeping in here for years, but now is the time for it to awaken from its slumber. Hurry, carry the sword."
"Yes, My Lady," the first knight replied, reaching for the great sword's hilt. He pulled, grunting with effort, surprised by its sheer weight. It took a significant amount of his formidable vampire strength just to shift it. Noticing his partner's struggle, the other knight quickly moved to assist. Together, straining, they managed to free Blazescale from its mount in the cabinet. They had to carry it cooperatively, one grasping the hilt, the other supporting the heavy blade near its end.
Meanwhile, Emma was busy grabbing herself a bow and a quill full of arrows. Cassandra appeared behind Emma and gently took out one of the arrows from Emma's quill. She studied the arrowhead and lightly nodded her head "A wise choice against a giant, sister."
Cassandra ran her index finger over the arrowhead's surface. It wasn't just masterfully forged steel; it hummed faintly, almost imperceptibly, with suppressed power. Closer inspection revealed its true secret: thin, almost invisible, runic inscriptions snaked across the dark metal. This wasn't an arrowhead meant to simply pierce. It was a miniature, self-contained bomb. Upon striking its target, the kinetic energy of the impact would trigger the interwoven runes, causing them to flare with intense, blinding light before erupting in a concussive blast.
"Though I prefer to get a little closer," she mused aloud, her eyes scanning the room.
She took a couple of deliberate steps to the right, towards a less conspicuous section of the brick wall. There, hanging almost imperceptibly, was a length of magical white rope – a unique tool known for its ability to stretch beyond normal limits. She unhooked the rope and smoothly coiled it over her right shoulder. With practiced efficiency, she then quickly selected a finely crafted sword for herself, testing its balance with a swift flick of her wrist.
"Let's go," she commanded, her voice sharp with renewed urgency. "We can't waste any more time here."
Emma, already gripping her own chosen weapon, nodded, her gaze firm. "I'm ready, sister."
The two vampire knights, one still supporting the massive Blazescale at its hilt and the other at its end, stood ready, their posture rigid with determination despite the sword's immense weight. "We are right behind you, My Lady," one of them affirmed.
Cassandra's lips curved into a thin, confident smile. "Then let us go slay a giant."
====
John's mouth was agape, his mind reeling. Everything had happened so fast. One moment, he was ready to risk it all, to face the mercenary head-on, and the next, the man lay dead on the ground. When John's eyes landed on the figure standing over the fallen body, a surge of pure joy rushed through him. He sprinted forward, throwing himself into a grateful hug.
"Porto! I'm so glad to see you!" John exclaimed, burying his face in the man's chest. "Thank you for saving us!"
Porto, a towering figure, gently placed his right hand on John's head, his touch surprisingly soft. "This one is also glad to see you, Young Master John."
Leonidas, still prone but now with his voice regaining some of its old bite, interjected, "What took you so long, you imbecile? What if I'd died by that pathetic peon? Perhaps you no longer like your lord, hmm?"
Porto immediately dropped to one knee, his posture stiff with reverence. "Apologies, my lord, for not coming sooner. I was not aware that my lord had been so greatly weakened. Otherwise, this tiny insect would have already been stepped on."
"Are you an idiot?" Leonidas snapped, his frustration clear. "You should have known something was wrong when you heard I was back, and this war had not come to an end!"
"Forgive me, my lord," Porto murmured, his head bowed low.
"Why are you acting like such a jerk, you old coot?" John interjected, stepping between them, his hands on his hips. "Is this how a lord acts after being saved by his own people? Especially by the man who just saved your life?"
A bead of sweat trickled down Porto's forehead. He couldn't believe what he was hearing – or that John was brave enough to say such a thing to Lord Leonidas and live to tell the tale. He wanted to speak, to defend his lord or caution John, but he was utterly terrified.
Leonidas merely let out a dismissive "Tch." He clearly couldn't be bothered with Porto's apologies or John's scolding. "Did you manage to find the mirror?" he asked John, his voice tinged with impatience.
John's head dropped a little, his earlier joy fading. "Yeah." He walked over to the desk that lay upside down, its contents scattered. The young boy carefully picked up the magic communication mirror he had dropped on the floor earlier, before rushing to his grandfather's aid against the mercenary. He gently handed the mirror to Leonidas.
The old vampire's eyes scanned the mirror with bitter disappointment. Multiple jagged cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, marring its once-perfect sheen.
"Shit," Leonidas muttered, shaking his head. "I knew it wouldn't be this easy."
The magic communication mirror itself boasted a heavy, darkened silver frame, intricately sculpted with swirling tendrils and grotesque skeletal motifs. A single, obsidian-eyed sentinel peered ominously from its top, while a sneering, gargoyle-like face leered from below. Its ergonomic, serpentine handle felt unnaturally cool to the touch, and the glass surface, when dormant, typically held a faint, ethereal haze. Despite the damage, Leonidas decided to take a chance, holding it up with a hopeful glint in his eye.
"Mirror," he commanded, his voice clear, "get through to the leader of Emberfall."
As the chosen phrase "get through to the leader of Emberfall" resonated, the obsidian eye set within the mirror's dark frame began to glimmer. A soft, purple luminescence bloomed within the cracked glass, expanding slowly, signifying that a link was indeed being forged.
Leonidas stared intensely at the mirror, his ancient eyes fixed on the developing light. John, on the other hand, was a bundle of raw nerves, pacing frantically, biting at his nails. "Come on, you stupid mirror, work," he muttered under his breath, a silent prayer forming in his mind for the connection to be made.
The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity, punctuated only by John's restless pacing. After a couple of agonizing minutes, a voice finally echoed from the mirror: "My lord, the Emberfall answers your call."
"Yes! It works!" John roared, throwing his arms up, his previous anxiety dissolving into pure elation. Forgetting all decorum in his excitement, the young vampire let out a triumphant whoop. He then immediately launched into a surprisingly energetic, if slightly awkward, Milly Rock dance, bopping and weaving amidst the scattered rubble of the cave. It was a stark, almost comical contrast to the grim, war-torn situation and his ancient, stoic grandfather, who remained unmoving.
"Who am I speaking to?" Leonidas demanded, his voice cutting through John's impromptu celebration. The magic communication mirror's screen, unfortunately, did not show the vampire who had answered the call, but his voice resonated with striking clarity.
"My lord, my name is Spencer."
"Spencer," Leonidas pressed, his tone urgent and demanding, "this is an emergency. I need you to get Oliver on the line. Now!"
"Please, give me a moment, my lord," Spencer replied, the urgency in Leonidas's voice clearly spurring him to action. Spencer hurriedly ran with the communication mirror in his hand towards the rooftop of the mansion, where Oliver was currently training with his two grandchildren.
Oliver stood tall and imposing, his muscular physique evident even from a distance. He boasted broad shoulders, a massive chest, and arms that bulged with defined biceps and forearms. His sculpted abs completed a powerful, almost superhuman build. His face was stern and determined, dominated by a prominent, thick, dark mustache that neatly covered his upper lip. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes appeared narrowed, suggesting an intense focus or perhaps a simmering anger. His short, dark hair was neatly combed to the side, maintaining a very disciplined appearance. He wore simple, black khaki pants and thick, black bracers on each wrist. Currently topless, his exposed upper body further emphasized his formidable musculature, a testament to his strength and rigorous training.
Oliver stood firm, his imposing figure behind his two children, a boy and a girl, both relentlessly striking punching bags. Their grunts of effort filled the air until Spencer's voice cut through the rhythmic impacts.
"My lord, this cannot wait," Spencer insisted, his tone urgent. "It's an emergency."
Oliver finally turned, his narrowed eyes fixed on Spencer. "Who is more important than my children right now?"
"It's Lord Leonidas, my lord."
At the mention of Leonidas, Oliver's demeanor shifted instantly. He moved with surprising speed, striding quickly to Spencer and taking the magic communication mirror from his hand. He held it up, his voice immediately deferential. "My lord, apologies for making you wait so long. How may this one be of help?"
Leonidas's voice, though strained, was sharp with command. "Oliver, there's no time for explanations, but to make it short: I need you to gather your men as quickly as possible. My castle is under attack, and I am powerless now because of the enemy's trickery. We're going to try to open the teleportation portal. Give me a couple of minutes."
Oliver's response was immediate and resolute. "Do not worry, my lord. I will get the men ready immediately. Whoever this enemy is who dares to attack the Crimsons will be sent to the underworld, effective immediately. This one will wait patiently for the teleportation portal to open."
"Much appreciated, Oliver," Leonidas replied, a hint of relief in his voice. "Once this war is over, your assistance will not go unrewarded or unseen."
"Please, my lord," Oliver insisted, his loyalty unwavering. "There is no need for rewards. My clan is here to serve and at your disposal."
"Good, good," Leonidas affirmed, a rare note of satisfaction in his voice. He then abruptly closed the communication, the purple luminescence in the mirror fading. He looked at John and Porto, a stern glint in his eyes. "Gentlemen, we have a war to win."
"Yahoo, Lego!" John screamed, jumping high into the air, his earlier anxiety completely replaced by fervent excitement.