Zero quickly learned that the vampire he carried bore the name James T. Robertson, once a desperate human who had pleaded for mercy when the vampire regime first seized control of Sidra. In a perilous negotiation to spare his life, they granted him a grim reprieve, but it came with a dark twist: he was cast into the lowest echelon of the vampire hierarchy. Forbidden from partaking in the grim feasts of enslaved humans within the Guild Hubs, he and his fellow vampires of his ilk were relegated to scouring the island for sustenance. For every three wretched souls they unearthed, they were entitled to claim the fourth for their own, whether as a thrall or as a macabre meal. Although James's hunger had not yet consumed him entirely, he sensed that he had only a fleeting day or two left before the gnawing emptiness inside him would become unbearable.
James guided him along the optimal route to evade the looming patrols that prowled in and around the forest, preserving the tranquility Zero had initially sought. Once they had put some distance between themselves and the shockwave's devastation, the forest's dense canopy provided ample shade and numerous hiding places for when they encountered the wandering patrols.
Despite the impending arrival of winter and the Higher Aspen's relentless cold, the forest's trees still bore their lush foliage. The leaves maintained their deep green hue, adorning the sturdy oak branches with their small oval shapes, extending from the slender tips down to where they joined the thick trunks. Sidra's trees might not have been spectacular, but they held a profound sense of familiarity and serenity for Zero. He had traversed this very forest countless times, estimating the count at well over a thousand, although he stopped keeping track somewhere around the three-hundredth run.
The forest's embrace and its familiar sights stirred memories of his time with the Order, the routine of dashing through these woods. But these reflections also raised an unsettling question in his mind—where was the Order now? Surely, some of them must have taken a stand somewhere, or perhaps they had managed to find refuge, sheltering themselves from the encroaching darkness. These thoughts compelled Zero to come to a halt.
"What is it?" James inquired.
"The Order," Zero began, his voice tinged with concern, "what has happened to them?"
"I don't possess any more information than you do," James replied with a touch of bitterness. "As a lowly class vampire, I couldn't even begin to tell you where they've relocated the castle. Highers be damned, I didn't even know they were moving it in the first place."
"Huh, it guess lower-class vampires really are being left to fend for themselves," Zero remarked as he resumed walking. Just as he did, the rumbling thunder of the Tempest Storm roared overhead, closely followed by an abrupt darkness that enveloped everything. It lasted for no more than a few seconds, but during those moments, it was absolute blackness, impenetrable to even a Void Walker. Tempest Storms were a league of their own, even if only for a brief duration.
The rain came next, an unrelenting deluge that descended upon them like a torrent. The raindrops were so abundant that the leafy canopy above could do little more than yield to the waterfall-like cascade. Leaves were dislodged from branches, swirling in the air as the wind intensified.
"There's a patrol camp not far from here," James informed Zero. "It's not much, but it should provide us with shelter for the night without much trouble."
Zero raised an eyebrow. "How many others will be there?"
"Should be no more than five," James replied, "but the tents are quite spacious."
Zero couldn't help but smirk. James's behavior was peculiar. He hadn't made any more attempts to sink his fangs into Zero, but that didn't mean he was ready to trust James fully. He still intended to dispose of James once he got his hands on some food, assuming there even was any.
"Alright, James, lead the way," Zero said, lowering James to the ground. As he stood up, he added, "But remember, if you try to bite me again, I'll sever your head before you realize your mistake."
James nodded in acknowledgment and took the lead, guiding Zero through the forest, stopping every time the darkness would cast itself over them. Tempest Storms were indeed a formidable force, unleashing a torrential downpour like no other, accompanied by thunder and flashes of reverse lightning that outmatched the ferocity of any other storm. Zero couldn't help but ponder if there was something concealed within them, something beyond mere magical phenomena. He had no plans to confront the storm anytime soon, at least not until he regained his Dragon form. However, once that transformation was within his grasp, confronting a Tempest Storm would undoubtedly ascend to the very top of his to-do list.
Luna had spoken the truth; Maeve knew precisely when to awaken. The entire expanse of her chambers quaked, the frame of her bed threatened to disintegrate under the violent tremors. The stained brown wood shuddered uncontrollably, while the canopy above swayed as if caressed by a strong breeze. The modest personal touches she had added to the room lay strewn across the floor and her bed.
The canopy, once draped in a dark blue sheet that concealed most of the bed's interior, now hung disheveled. A surfeit of pillows had been flung in every direction, scattering across her room like leaves caught in a whirlwind. They settled over the matching blue curtains she had hung over her windows, a feeble attempt to block out the ceaseless glare of the twin suns, which seemed perpetually irritated, casting their harsh light at all hours of the day and night—she was almost yearning for the total eclipse.
Maeve cautiously abandoned her bed, still trembling from the intense shaking that had accompanied the castle's abrupt landing. If the violent upheaval of the castle hadn't roused her from slumber, the anguished cries and screams of the Uthol Forest Elves most certainly would have. The castle had been teleported to the very heart of Hier, obliterating nearly the entire plaza in the process. It had left in ruins half of the bustling business district and the beginnings of some of the magic school dormitories in the eastern sector.
Maeve maneuvered through the tumultuous castle, where vampires of every rank scurried to prepare at breakneck speed. They hastily donned pieces of armor scavenged from the humans—metal plates adorned with overlapping panels on their backs, paired with matching trousers that seamlessly layered over each other. The once-distinctive ranks blurred beneath the weight of their borrowed armor, but ranks no longer matter. In the looming theater of war, only orders carried weight, and those orders were starkly uncomplicated: eliminate all opposition, taking the MoonShadow Elves as prisoners while consigning the Uthol Forest Elves to total and unforgiving extinction.
Maeve gracefully navigated the lengthy corridor, her steps echoing upon the vibrant red carpet that stretched before her. She discreetly observed the ruined paintings adorning the walls, their once-majestic depictions reduced to unrecognizable smears of hilly landscapes and sunlit scenes. These were remnants of what the castle once represented, but now, its history was obscured by the unmistakable presence of vampires.
The Emperor had been quite cunning in his preparations. Most of the castle's furnishings, from utensils to chairs, tables, dressers, and even the frames of beds, were wrought from silver. Even the grand chandelier that once graced the front entrance had been removed, as its heavy silver reflection posed a peril to most vampires. The suits of armor some vampires wore also contained silver elements, and it was quickly apparent when unfortunate cries emanated from those who touched them. These silver suits, it was evident, were ancient relics, suggesting that the rest of the silverware within the castle had been repurposed from these once-majestic armors.
Maeve turned another corner and descended a staircase that led to the lowest floor of the castle. As she paused for a moment, her surprise was palpable but not overwhelming. The plans were unraveling, and the elves had infiltrated the castle much sooner than anticipated. The main doors and a portion of the left wall lay in ruins, devastated by some sort of destructive fireball. The ensuing battle was far from the vampires' expectations. Maeve observed the elves in action, wielding silver lances with incredible finesse. They needn't draw near their vampire adversaries; even the slightest cut from their lances was sufficient to immobilize a vampire, making for an easier kill. Their movements exuded grace, their armor fitted to perfection. Golden wrist guards extended to their elbows, concealing an underlayer crafted from Vargot Seashells, an exceptionally dense material despite their diminutive size. These shells formed a scale-like pattern, overlapping seamlessly. Golden chest plates snugly conformed to their bodies, and their legs featured matching cusps, extending from the pointed boots to their shins and over their knees. The armor seemed like a single, sleek unit, akin to a leotard rather than a collection of cumbersome components. Their helmets concealed their entire faces, their shape resembling a slender bell with no eye sockets and no insignias save for the plume that adorned the top, which varied in color according to their rank, most being green, signifying their status as Royal Guards.
Maeve swayed her head from side to side and then drew her hood over herself, concealing her horns within the Void. "Time to get to work."
Maeve dramatically unfurled her cloak, and from its shadowy depths emerged fourteen monstrous tentacles, each resembling a stone pillar in size and color. These writhing appendages surged across the room, effortlessly piercing the helmets of every elf engaged in battle, causing them to plummet to the ground in unison. As the tentacles retreated into Maeve's cloak, a faint reverberating growl emanated from the fabric, seizing the vampires' attention.
Maeve surveyed the aftermath of her swift and deadly strike, taking note of the fallen elves and the considerable damage wrought in the mere moments before she got there. More of the castle's entrance and a portion of its wall fell, while the floor bore deep scars from the elves' lances and the vampires' wicked talons. Maeve curled her lip in disdain and began walking forward. The vampires, particularly those under Luna's command, followed her outside, parting to create a path for her.
Outside, the devastation exceeded Maeve's initial glimpse from the window. The fact that any elves had breached the castle's defenses was astonishing. Scattered skirmishes raged amid the wreckage the castle had created. While the vampires outnumbered the elves five to one, the elves wielded their lances and spears with remarkable skill, maintaining a distance that placed the vampires at a significant disadvantage. This forced the vampires to cluster together, thwarting their original plan of swift execution.
Maeve surveyed the chaotic scene, acknowledging that she couldn't engage all the elves simultaneously without suffering fatigue. She would need to reduce her own numbers in the process to do so and it would be unwise to squander their lives with what has been happening. Many of the vampires deployed across the island were ill-suited for combat and have been tasked with searching for survivors. Moreover, their numbers had been dwindling due to mysterious attacks on some of their hidden outposts. Maeve and the Vampire Gods knew about Zero and his group's campaign across Sidra in search of her, but these attacks had occurred at secret outposts unknown even to Maeve, Luna, and Sol. Only Zus had knowledge of their locations, yet three of the five had already been eliminated, and there had been no survivors to reveal the culprits. While it couldn't be completely confirmed that Zero and his companions weren't responsible, their excessive use of fire was always an indication of their presence.
Maeve glanced around, assessing the situation once more. She turned to the vampires who had followed her outside and spoke with a determined tone. "Kill everyone here, then find the MoonShadow Elves. I can deal with the Queen myself." Without hesitation, Maeve transformed into a shadow and vanished into the midst of the chaos.
Zero quickly learned that the vampire he carried bore the name James T. Robertson, once a desperate human who had pleaded for mercy when the vampire regime first seized control of Sidra. In a perilous negotiation to spare his life, they granted him a grim reprieve, but it came with a dark twist: he was cast into the lowest echelon of the vampire hierarchy. Forbidden from partaking in the grim feasts of enslaved humans within the Guild Hubs, he and his fellow vampires of his ilk were relegated to scouring the island for sustenance. For every three wretched souls they unearthed, they were entitled to claim the fourth for their own, whether as a thrall or as a macabre meal. Although James's hunger had not yet consumed him entirely, he sensed that he had only a fleeting day or two left before the gnawing emptiness inside him would become unbearable.
James guided him along the optimal route to evade the looming patrols that prowled in and around the forest, preserving the tranquility Zero had initially sought. Once they had put some distance between themselves and the shockwave's devastation, the forest's dense canopy provided ample shade and numerous hiding places for when they encountered the wandering patrols.
Despite the impending arrival of winter and the Higher Aspen's relentless cold, the forest's trees still bore their lush foliage. The leaves maintained their deep green hue, adorning the sturdy oak branches with their small oval shapes, extending from the slender tips down to where they joined the thick trunks. Sidra's trees might not have been spectacular, but they held a profound sense of familiarity and serenity for Zero. He had traversed this very forest countless times, estimating the count at well over a thousand, although he stopped keeping track somewhere around the three-hundredth run.
The forest's embrace and its familiar sights stirred memories of his time with the Order, the routine of dashing through these woods. But these reflections also raised an unsettling question in his mind—where was the Order now? Surely, some of them must have taken a stand somewhere, or perhaps they had managed to find refuge, sheltering themselves from the encroaching darkness. These thoughts compelled Zero to come to a halt.
"What is it?" James inquired.
"The Order," Zero began, his voice tinged with concern, "what has happened to them?"
"I don't possess any more information than you do," James replied with a touch of bitterness. "As a lowly class vampire, I couldn't even begin to tell you where they've relocated the castle. Highers be damned, I didn't even know they were moving it in the first place."
"Huh, it guess lower-class vampires really are being left to fend for themselves," Zero remarked as he resumed walking. Just as he did, the rumbling thunder of the Tempest Storm roared overhead, closely followed by an abrupt darkness that enveloped everything. It lasted for no more than a few seconds, but during those moments, it was absolute blackness, impenetrable to even a Void Walker. Tempest Storms were a league of their own, even if only for a brief duration.
The rain came next, an unrelenting deluge that descended upon them like a torrent. The raindrops were so abundant that the leafy canopy above could do little more than yield to the waterfall-like cascade. Leaves were dislodged from branches, swirling in the air as the wind intensified.
"There's a patrol camp not far from here," James informed Zero. "It's not much, but it should provide us with shelter for the night without much trouble."
Zero raised an eyebrow. "How many others will be there?"
"Should be no more than five," James replied, "but the tents are quite spacious."
Zero couldn't help but smirk. James's behavior was peculiar. He hadn't made any more attempts to sink his fangs into Zero, but that didn't mean he was ready to trust James fully. He still intended to dispose of James once he got his hands on some food, assuming there even was any.
"Alright, James, lead the way," Zero said, lowering James to the ground. As he stood up, he added, "But remember, if you try to bite me again, I'll sever your head before you realize your mistake."
James nodded in acknowledgment and took the lead, guiding Zero through the forest, stopping every time the darkness would cast itself over them. Tempest Storms were indeed a formidable force, unleashing a torrential downpour like no other, accompanied by thunder and flashes of reverse lightning that outmatched the ferocity of any other storm. Zero couldn't help but ponder if there was something concealed within them, something beyond mere magical phenomena. He had no plans to confront the storm anytime soon, at least not until he regained his Dragon form. However, once that transformation was within his grasp, confronting a Tempest Storm would undoubtedly ascend to the very top of his to-do list.
Luna had spoken the truth; Maeve knew precisely when to awaken. The entire expanse of her chambers quaked, the frame of her bed threatened to disintegrate under the violent tremors. The stained brown wood shuddered uncontrollably, while the canopy above swayed as if caressed by a strong breeze. The modest personal touches she had added to the room lay strewn across the floor and her bed.
The canopy, once draped in a dark blue sheet that concealed most of the bed's interior, now hung disheveled. A surfeit of pillows had been flung in every direction, scattering across her room like leaves caught in a whirlwind. They settled over the matching blue curtains she had hung over her windows, a feeble attempt to block out the ceaseless glare of the twin suns, which seemed perpetually irritated, casting their harsh light at all hours of the day and night—she was almost yearning for the total eclipse.
Maeve cautiously abandoned her bed, still trembling from the intense shaking that had accompanied the castle's abrupt landing. If the violent upheaval of the castle hadn't roused her from slumber, the anguished cries and screams of the Uthol Forest Elves most certainly would have. The castle had been teleported to the very heart of Hier, obliterating nearly the entire plaza in the process. It had left in ruins half of the bustling business district and the beginnings of some of the magic school dormitories in the eastern sector.
Maeve maneuvered through the tumultuous castle, where vampires of every rank scurried to prepare at breakneck speed. They hastily donned pieces of armor scavenged from the humans—metal plates adorned with overlapping panels on their backs, paired with matching trousers that seamlessly layered over each other. The once-distinctive ranks blurred beneath the weight of their borrowed armor, but ranks no longer matter. In the looming theater of war, only orders carried weight, and those orders were starkly uncomplicated: eliminate all opposition, taking the MoonShadow Elves as prisoners while consigning the Uthol Forest Elves to total and unforgiving extinction.
Maeve gracefully navigated the lengthy corridor, her steps echoing upon the vibrant red carpet that stretched before her. She discreetly observed the ruined paintings adorning the walls, their once-majestic depictions reduced to unrecognizable smears of hilly landscapes and sunlit scenes. These were remnants of what the castle once represented, but now, its history was obscured by the unmistakable presence of vampires.
The Emperor had been quite cunning in his preparations. Most of the castle's furnishings, from utensils to chairs, tables, dressers, and even the frames of beds, were wrought from silver. Even the grand chandelier that once graced the front entrance had been removed, as its heavy silver reflection posed a peril to most vampires. The suits of armor some vampires wore also contained silver elements, and it was quickly apparent when unfortunate cries emanated from those who touched them. These silver suits, it was evident, were ancient relics, suggesting that the rest of the silverware within the castle had been repurposed from these once-majestic armors.
Maeve turned another corner and descended a staircase that led to the lowest floor of the castle. As she paused for a moment, her surprise was palpable but not overwhelming. The plans were unraveling, and the elves had infiltrated the castle much sooner than anticipated. The main doors and a portion of the left wall lay in ruins, devastated by some sort of destructive fireball. The ensuing battle was far from the vampires' expectations. Maeve observed the elves in action, wielding silver lances with incredible finesse. They needn't draw near their vampire adversaries; even the slightest cut from their lances was sufficient to immobilize a vampire, making for an easier kill. Their movements exuded grace, their armor fitted to perfection. Golden wrist guards extended to their elbows, concealing an underlayer crafted from Vargot Seashells, an exceptionally dense material despite their diminutive size. These shells formed a scale-like pattern, overlapping seamlessly. Golden chest plates snugly conformed to their bodies, and their legs featured matching cusps, extending from the pointed boots to their shins and over their knees. The armor seemed like a single, sleek unit, akin to a leotard rather than a collection of cumbersome components. Their helmets concealed their entire faces, their shape resembling a slender bell with no eye sockets and no insignias save for the plume that adorned the top, which varied in color according to their rank, most being green, signifying their status as Royal Guards.
Maeve swayed her head from side to side and then drew her hood over herself, concealing her horns within the Void. "Time to get to work."
Maeve dramatically unfurled her cloak, and from its shadowy depths emerged fourteen monstrous tentacles, each resembling a stone pillar in size and color. These writhing appendages surged across the room, effortlessly piercing the helmets of every elf engaged in battle, causing them to plummet to the ground in unison. As the tentacles retreated into Maeve's cloak, a faint reverberating growl emanated from the fabric, seizing the vampires' attention.
Maeve surveyed the aftermath of her swift and deadly strike, taking note of the fallen elves and the considerable damage wrought in the mere moments before she got there. More of the castle's entrance and a portion of its wall fell, while the floor bore deep scars from the elves' lances and the vampires' wicked talons. Maeve curled her lip in disdain and began walking forward. The vampires, particularly those under Luna's command, followed her outside, parting to create a path for her.
Outside, the devastation exceeded Maeve's initial glimpse from the window. The fact that any elves had breached the castle's defenses was astonishing. Scattered skirmishes raged amid the wreckage the castle had created. While the vampires outnumbered the elves five to one, the elves wielded their lances and spears with remarkable skill, maintaining a distance that placed the vampires at a significant disadvantage. This forced the vampires to cluster together, thwarting their original plan of swift execution.
Maeve surveyed the chaotic scene, acknowledging that she couldn't engage all the elves simultaneously without suffering fatigue. She would need to reduce her own numbers in the process to do so and it would be unwise to squander their lives with what has been happening. Many of the vampires deployed across the island were ill-suited for combat and have been tasked with searching for survivors. Moreover, their numbers had been dwindling due to mysterious attacks on some of their hidden outposts. Maeve and the Vampire Gods knew about Zero and his group's campaign across Sidra in search of her, but these attacks had occurred at secret outposts unknown even to Maeve, Luna, and Sol. Only Zus had knowledge of their locations, yet three of the five had already been eliminated, and there had been no survivors to reveal the culprits. While it couldn't be completely confirmed that Zero and his companions weren't responsible, their excessive use of fire was always an indication of their presence.
Maeve glanced around, assessing the situation once more. She turned to the vampires who had followed her outside and spoke with a determined tone. "Kill everyone here, then find the MoonShadow Elves. I can deal with the Queen myself." Without hesitation, Maeve transformed into a shadow and vanished into the midst of the chaos.
