Chapter 18: The Hunter in the City
Ash moved slowly through the ruined square.
The scent of smoke and blood and shattered stone hung on the breeze, a testament to the death of the very heart of Seraphine's barony. Timbers groaned in the wind where homes once stood, succumbing to gravity.
Seraphine was in the center of it all.
Her blood red eyes surveyed the devastation-the collapsed buildings, the bodies of fallen soldiers piled on those of slain monsters, both human and inhuman.
Her people.
A suffocating pressure began to radiate from her body.
Archie felt it instantly.
The very air grew heavy, as if a tangible weight had descended upon his shoulders, and dust swirled lightly about Seraphine's boots as the auras of pure hatred intensified around her.
She did not move.
But the raw anger emanating from her was impossible to miss.
Archie approached her slowly, picking his way carefully between the corpses. It was difficult to even be near her now. The sheer bloodlust that saturated the air around Seraphine made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.
"It wasn't your fault," Archie said softly.
Seraphine did not respond.
Her eyes were fixed on the scene of devastation.
"Baronies don't get destroyed because their Lord went to check the surroundings of the environment for a possible threat," he continued. "Something did this and we will ensure we end the existence of the being who did this."
A long silence stretched between them.
Finally Seraphine spoke.
"That changes nothing."
Her voice was deceptively calm.
"My lands were my responsibility. Every soldier who fell died at my command was my responsibility, but not only did my soldiers die even their families where killed, everyone in my land was killed, i became a baron of nothing."
Archie looked around the devastated square again.
He suddenly understood.
Seraphine wasn't just furious.
She was grieving.
Vampire nobles held vast territories, and for most, it was more than just a symbol of their power; it was also the home of thousands, reliant on them for protection. And today, protection had failed.
Seraphine turned her blood red eyes toward the skyline of the main city where smoke still curled upwards from the morning's fires.
"I will wash the land with the blood of the one who did this, i will make sure i end the miserable creature existence," she murmured.
Archie nodded.
"I gathered as much."
He had seen it outside the city walls during the battle, the crushed bodies and shattered structures, the monstrous single strikes that had pulverized beasts much larger than the ordinary creatures of this world. Something else was out there. Something more dangerous.
Seraphine began to walk, Archie close behind.
They left the ruined square and proceeded deeper into the destroyed streets of the barony.
"We need to find out why," she said.
"We aren't going to do that by just standing here."
The closer they went to the center of the city, the more apparent the truth of their surroundings became.
Archie stood up, scanning the street beyond. Corpses were strewn everywhere. Most belonged to vampires, armored soldiers who had died fighting to defend the area. Swords and spears were still clutched in their hands.
Deeper within the city, the news had already arrived. The main hall of the noble council, normally a place of formal debate and political machinations, resembled a war room. Armed guards lined the walls, and messengers ran in and out with reports from every section of the city. Nobles argued, their voices overlapping each other in a cacophony of panic.
"The outside districts are in chaos!"
"Monster hordes are streaming through the western gate!"
"My soldiers have been wiped out in the east district by a single attacker!"
A Baron slammed his fist against the table. "A single attacker does not kill entire squads!"
"It did!" another noble shouted back. "Thirty men dead in seconds!"
"Something has entered the city!"
"Not something," a grim-faced vampire clarified. "Someone."
From a corner of the chaotic chamber, one figure watched the scene unfold with calm, analytical interest. Viscount Duncan.
A noble near the center of the room turned toward him. "Viscount Duncan," he said sharply. "You seem strangely quiet."
Heads turned. Duncan stepped forward slowly. "My silence, good sir, comes from listening."
The chamber hushed slightly. "Panic won't help us understand the situation. The monsters explain some of the chaos, but clearly another force is moving through the city."
"And what force would that be?" another Baron demanded.
Duncan's eyes flickered slightly. "A hunter."
The word passed uneasily through the room. "A hunter?" "That's impossible."
Duncan clasped his hands behind his back. "Impossible things seem to be happening today, the earl in charge of the city seems to care more about his manor than the city."
Arguments broke out immediately, some nobles dismissing the notion, others looking uneasy. Through it all, Duncan remained silent, the vision unfolding precisely as he had intended. Deep within the city, the weapon he had unleashed continued its reign of destruction. With every noble it slaughtered, his own status and influence grew.
The hunt had begun.
At the heart of the city lay the Earl's estate.
It had been constructed long before most of the surrounding areas. Strong stone walls enclosed the estate and heavy iron gates barred the path from the main road. Towers rose above the walls, in which normally quiet guards surveyed the street below.
Now the estate was on high alert.
Dozens of vampire soldiers stood in the courtyard before the gates. Some guarded the walls, bows drawn, others stood directly behind the iron gates with spears and shields.
The news of whatever was moving through the city had reached them quickly.
Whole squads had been eliminated in a matter of seconds.
Near the gate the commander of the guards stood still and stared at the empty road leading to the outer district. The commander rested his hand lightly on the pommel of his sword, but the slight tensing of the shoulders indicated his nerves.
The soldier next to him shifted on his feet. "Commander," he whispered, "do you believe the reports?"
The commander didn't turn. "What reports?"
"That one person took out a full squad."
The commander stared ahead. "In these troubled times," he said, "reports are quick to get ahead of reality."
The young soldier nodded, still tense.
Before they could say more, something was seen at the far end of the street.
Walking.
Alone.
Immediately the guards stiffened. The man strolled casually through the smoky street, stepping over shattered stone and wreckage without breaking pace. His clothes were tattered and soaked with blood. Yet he seemed undisturbed, relaxed even.
The commander raised a hand. "Hold your position!" he shouted to his guards. The guards lowered their weapons towards the approaching figure.
When the man was only a few yards from the gate he stopped.
A profound silence descended over the estate entrance. The commander approached him.
"You are coming to the Earl's residence," he said sternly. "Your name and intentions?"
The man raised his head slightly. His eyes were cold and steady. "Abraham."
A shiver went down the backs of the soldiers as they all realized they knew that name.
The commander stared at him closely. "Get out of this district immediately!" he commanded.
Abraham didn't move. His eyes scanned past the soldiers to the mansion behind them, and he took a step closer.
"Attack," the commander shouted. The soldiers charged simultaneously. Their spears thrust forward in a concerted effort to finish the combat before it even started.
But Abraham was faster. His hand struck the first soldier on the chest, and the armored man flew backwards through the entire formation, crashing into the line of soldiers behind him, scattering them like bowling pins.
Two guards rushed him from either side. Abraham stepped in between them and slammed the first into the stone wall of the estate. He grabbed the second, and flung him head first against the iron gates. The iron buckled under the force of the impact.
The remaining soldiers hesitatingly charged, swords and spears glinting as they lunged at the intruder. The only thing it accomplished was to slow Abraham down momentarily. One blow with a shield took the head off of one man and another, faster than any sword could be swung, drove a spear tip into the chest of another guard before breaking.
Within seconds a mountain of fallen soldiers filled the courtyard. The commander stood aghast, staring at the carnage and at Abraham.
He drew his sword, let out a ragged scream, and charged Abraham.
Abraham turned, and with a single fist drove him into the stone road below.
Silence fell again on the courtyard, and Abraham stepped to the colossal iron gates. Behind them stood the Earl's house, the seat of all power within the city. He put a hand to the bars of the gate. And then he pushed.
The iron groaned with the effort, and the chains snapped.
With a horrendous crash the gates flew open, twisting violently against the stone walls. Abraham had a clear path to the Earl's house.