A heavy, metallic screech tore through the chamber as the blade sliced clean through the viscous fluid.
Slash-
The sound was wet, sharp, and absolute.
"I thought the level-up ceremony was noble... what a pity!" The voice returned, its dramatic, mocking accent cutting through the sudden silence. "Here, the slaves are trying to rank."
The dramatic action and mocking voice belonged to none other than the female soldier from before- Florianthum.
The dark purple liquid hand, which had taken so much magical energy to form, deformed right before the vampire general’s eyes. It didn’t just dissolve; it ruptured.
The general collapsed straight onto the stone floor, his knees giving out instantly. Total silence. He couldn’t force a single word past his throat. Fear had completely paralyzed him; still, he kept a fury in his eyes like a ruthless being.
Bits of the destroyed magical fluid rained down, splashing across his face in burning, heavy drops. The dark purple liquid sizzled against his pale skin, but he didn’t dare wipe it away. He couldn’t even look up at the speaker. His eyes were wide, fixed on the empty space where his grand spell had just been effortlessly butchered.
Cassius’s face turned pale, a sickly greyish color. It looked like he had reigned as the single most horrific, ruthless vampire in this entire vampirian empire for centuries. Just a glimpse of him usually sent armies into a panic. But right now, the horror was turning inward.
Thick, black liquid began leaking from the corners of his eyes, bleeding down his skin and carving dark trails all over his cheeks. Inside his mouth, his sharp fangs ground together. The grinding sound vibrated slowly through his jaw- a dying groan of raw anger fading away in a single, terrifying moment of time.
As soon as the dark purple figure got slashed and destroyed, the tether to his magic snapped.
Cassius’s face started to twitch. It was a jerky, unsettling spasm, like a psychopath losing their grip on reality. Then came the smile. A weird, vacant grin stretched across his pale lips, completely empty of joy.
Suddenly, his knees locked. His body tilted backward. He didn’t stumble or try to catch himself. Instead, he fell straight back like that, dropping hard onto the dirt of the ground just like a deactivated robot crashing onto a factory floor.
Thud.
He lay motionless in the dust. It seemed like Cassius’s power was completely unknown to him. And yes, that was the absolute truth. This chaotic surge had happened for the first time in his immortal life. He had no idea how to face it, let alone control it.
Worse, the physical toll was hitting him all at once. He was already deeply tired. A maddening, clawing bloodlust hunger gnawed at his insides, tearing at his sanity. Being a vampire, he needed life force to sustain his magic, yet he had not consumed a single thing since he entered this wretched realm. His only sustenance had occurred days ago, when he desperately licked his own spilled blood off the floor just to quiet the burning in his throat. Now, even that residual strength was completely gone.
The dust settled over his unmoving body, leaving the ruthless tyrant completely vulnerable in the dirt.
Florianthum stood tall, her weapon still humming from the impact of the shattered spell. Like a supreme commander issuing an absolute order, she spoke, her words echoing sharply through the chamber’s small room.
"Get every slave out of here," she commanded. "This is a noble ceremony. Let them free for tonight. Let everyone fulfill their hunger."
The general and his two assistants awoke instantly from their stupor, jolted by the bold voice vibrating out from beneath her armored armet. The authority in her tone was impossible to ignore.
"In the name of Vilucious... we agree!" the general stammered.
He stumbled clumsily as he forced himself to stand up on the dirt ground. His hands shook as he quickly brushed off his knees and straightened the crumpled, dusty collar of his old red overcoat. He desperately tried to reclaim whatever dignity was left of his ruined uniform.
Beside him, the two assistant generals were still recovering. They had been thrown to the floor earlier, deep cut marks slashing across their faces from where they had caught the brutal backlash of Cassius’s defense. Ignoring the stinging blood on their cheeks, they scrambled to their feet.
They didn’t hesitate. Fear of both Florianthum and the dying spell drove them into motion. They sprinted across the dark vampirian city’s charcoal floor toward the stone-carved gate for the caged cabins, throwing open the heavy iron latches to free every single vampire slave for the night.
The dust had barely settled when Florianthum shifted her weight. With cold, mechanical precision, she lifted her blade and pointed the tip directly at Cassius’s unmoving body- a silent, unmistakable gesture to the general.
The general looked from the glowing steel of the sword down to the fallen tyrant. He gulped down his saliva, a heavy lump forming in his throat. Steeling himself, he forced a furious, dead-serious expression onto his face. He couldn’t let anyone see him tremble anymore.
Slowly, cautiously, he walked toward Cassius to check on him, half-expecting the monstrous vampire to spring back to life like a coiled spring.
As he stepped closer, Florianthum’s voice cut through the air once more, cold and absolute through her armet.
"I want him chained," she said, her eyes never leaving the fallen figure. "Transfer him straight to the kingdom’s jail. And these three vampire slaves..." She paused and walked out of the small chamber, gesturing toward the remaining captives shivering in the shadows, who had heavy bags on their backs. "...join them with the others."
The general gave her a ’hand on the chest bow’ gesture quickly, eager to comply before her mood shifted. He made Cassius wear his ruined uniform’s overcoat and then grabbed him by the collar, hoisting the strangely heavy, lifeless body up from the dirt, ready to drag him into the deepest dark the empire had to offer.
Far from the blood-soaked dirt of the ritual chamber and the captive aisle lay a different world entirely.
An endless, massive hall stretched out into the dark, decorated in a breathtaking aesthetic of deep blues and polished gold. The architecture felt infinite. Underneath the vaulted ceilings, only a very few high-ranking, vampire-like creatures moved through the space. They were dressed in immaculate, formal dark clothing- sharp tailored coats, heavy silk gowns, and silver accents that caught the light.
They were having fun, but it was a quiet, dangerous sort of amusement. They roamed lazily around the perimeter of the hall, where an immense feast was laid out. Countless platters of rich, decorated food covered the tables, lining the outer walls like a continuous, decadent border. Crystal chalices clinked together as they drank deep-red wine, their soft laughter echoing off the golden pillars.
A slow, haunting tune drifted through the vast air. The magical lights overhead flickered low, dimming and brightening in perfect sync with the steady, pulsing beats of the music that created a heavy, intoxicating mood.
In the dead center of the hall, the space opened up. A few pairs of the elite vampires moved together, locking hands to perform a slow, sweeping royal dance. Their movements were perfectly synchronized, elegant and fluid, completely oblivious to the chaos and starvation unfolding in the realms just beneath their feet.
A sudden, deep click echoed above the music.
High overhead, the massive, elegant gold and blue ceiling began to split. The intricate panels receded with a heavy, grinding hum, exposing the pitch-black void of the upper chambers.
The royal vampires paused, turning their gazes upward, as a booming, theatrical voice announced from the balcony:
"Lord Vilucious sent this gift for everyone! The most exciting and precious moment that we all were waiting for, finally occurs now... the fresh blood feast!"
From the darkness above, thousands of single ropes began to drop slowly, all at once. Hanging at the end of each cord were the newly converted vampire slaves, yet with human blood, as they hadn’t received the life sacrament yet. They were dragged straight down into the middle of the party venue. They were all alive, dangling limply like puppets with severed strings.
An immediate ripple of excitement and cruel laughter washed over the highborn guests. The slow music faded out, replaced by the clinking of raised glasses and eager murmurs.
The crowd erupted. The hanging captives swayed slightly in the low light, their expression entirely blank, bound tightly by the restrictive ropes.
Without waiting, a royal noble stepped out from the crowd. He marched directly toward a female slave who hung near the center of the floor. With a sneer, he grabbed her roughly, tearing at her clothes in a brutal show of dominance for the open ceremony. She didn’t fight back; she remained completely still, frozen like a lifeless robot chained to the rope.
The noble tilted her head back and bared his fangs, leaning in to sink them deep into her flesh.
SHRREEE-
A brilliant flash of light cut through the air. A sharp, heavily ornamented royal blade whistled forward with terrifying speed, slicing clean through the thick rope.
The cord snapped. The female slave plummeted, crashing heavily onto the stone ground.
The sheer force of the weapon caught the noble completely off guard. The blade grazed the side of his skull, burying itself deep into the golden floor. The noble stumbled backward, clutching his face as a fresh, burning cut split his forehead open, pouring his elite light blue colored blood over his eyes.