Interlude — Warpath

  Proximus

  The moment his [Sol’s Wrath] skill hit the vampire, Proximus knew he made a terrible miscalculation. The last time he fought a vampire, [Sol’s Wrath] incinerated him in seconds, turned him to ash in a flash of intense sunlight. Volk was an Elder Vampire, one of the oldest and most powerful of their kind, according to Cazimir at least.

  Proximus had been under the impression that vampires didn’t get much more powerful. Cazimir had told him about the rumors and stories about vampires so old and powerful that they could even survive under direct sunlight. Proximus had taken them for just myths, the vampires for all of their claims to be different than humans were still a people, they were not above exaggeration and parables. And besides, Proximus was certain that they enjoyed making themselves the monsters hiding in the shadow.

  So, when instead of turning the vampire before him to ash, his skill instead just scorched her face, he realized that some stories probably held a grain of truth. Either the vampire before him was so ancient that the full blast of his skill that had killed an Elder in seconds was only powerful enough to heavily burn her, or she was far, far ahead of him in her Mask’s Investment.

  But thankfully, the last few months had taught Proximus something very important. How to prepare for the worst, even when he didn’t think it was likely or even possible.

  The moment she toppled back from the boulder she was perched on, Proximus turned and ran, his men following. He pressed the button on his comm unit and yelled.

  “Fire now!”

  There wasn’t time for him to say anything more, they had already made the worst case plan. Of course, this wasn’t the actual plan, that had required Leon using his skill to bind the vampire in place, hopefully long enough for them all to get away. But, Proximus had to improvise. They were running as fast as possible out of the clearing and into the tree line, hoping that the injuries he inflicted would keep her in place for long enough.

  Then came the whistle above them. “Down!” Proximus yelled and jumped down, hiding behind the roots of the tree. The artillery salvo fired by three M777 howitzers landed with a sound of thunder and shaking ground. Even with his hands over his ears, it was loud enough to the point of being painful. The salvo was fired from over twenty kilometers away by three artillery guns they had salvaged from a military base and managed to fix into working state. They had picked this spot for the meeting with intent, they had planned and pre-targeted it before the meeting, they were lucky that they had a person with a skill that helped with targeting. He truly hadn’t expected to need it, but he had seen monsters already, animals so changed by this Grand Spell that they couldn’t be taken down easily.

  Proximus got to his feet alongside his men as the ground stopped shaking. Slowly, they walked over to the edge of the clearing, then looked down at the bowl that was turned into a crater filled with dust and smoke. The seconds ticked slowly, with no movement below other than the dust settling.

  “She’s dead,” one of his men said, but Proximus didn’t respond.

  He narrowed his eyes, focusing as something caught his attention in the crater. He saw movement, then heard a deep rasping sound that turned into a gurgling noise. The dust settled enough that he could see a shape slowly rising, covered in blood with large chunks missing. It almost didn’t look anything like a person, just a mangled shadow in the dust cloud. She was trying to talk. It seemed impossible that she was still alive, but Proximus wasn’t about to sit here and wait.

  “Masks on. Guns up and fire,” Proximus hissed as he pulled his Mask from his chest and put it on. The power of the sun flooded through him, making him stronger, muting his emotions. He pulled his gun with right hand and pointed his left down at the figure. His [Sol’s Wrath] skill was still on cooldown, but he had lesser versions. He fired a [Sun’s Lance] straight at her, a roar of rage and pain left the throat of the vampire as a hiss of burning skin and boiling blood reached his ears. Then gunshots rang out through the clearing. He saw Leon and Markus across from them raise their weapons and fire down too. The vampire twitched as the first bullet hit her, then moved with speed far greater than he had expected her capable of, even if she wasn’t injured.

  He lost track of her among the debris and dust, and his people fired blindly, lost in their fear of the vampire. He focused on his aura, instilling in them confidence and resolve.

  Just as he was about to give an order for them to head down and finish her, a rustle behind him startled him. He turned just in time to see a silver shape with claws extended forward fly straight for his face.

  Marianna

  Everything hurt, there was only agony. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t even speak. I couldn’t feel parts of me, couldn’t tell how injured I was. I opened my mouth, tried to call for Saia but all that I managed was a broken noise as my throat filled with blood. The pain of burning was the worst thing I had ever felt, but it had vanished in a flash as my nerves burned up. Whatever hit me after destroyed me, broke my bones,

  This was bad, the thirst was raging inside of me, my agreement with her straining. I called on it to shift, to change and grow wings and escape, but there wasn’t enough of me left to even attempt it. My body was healing, or at least trying to, but there was so much damaged that I couldn’t even tell if it was doing anything.

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  Saia was speaking in my ear, but I couldn’t understand her, my mind felt sluggish, unbalanced, and the thirst was making everything worse. I was hungry, so fucking hungry. I had to do something or I would lose myself.

  Before I had a chance to move something hit me, like a punch that made me sway slightly. Then came the searing torment that I remembered well—silver. I was just shot by a silver bullet.

  How? I didn’t smell silver on them.

  I felt my clothes, Saia, shift around my body, tugging on me and on instinct I moved. I jumped to the side, slipped and fell rolling around the ground. My mind was filled with fire, my shoulder felt like it was melting.

  The sliver rope that had been put around my neck had been made of impure silver, enough so that it wouldn’t burn through my throat and kill me instantly. It had been made to torture me until the sun came out and ended my suffering. This, this was so much worse. My muscles started twitching, the thirst was howling in my veins. The agony of healing faltered as the silver burned through the thirst.

  I tried to raise my right arm to reach my left shoulder and pull the bullet out, but nothing happened. Then I realized that my arm was missing, blown to bits by whatever the fuck it was that landed on top of me.

  Again I tried to speak, but all that came out of my throat was a ruined gasp. Thankfully, Saia caught on quickly. What was left of her on my body slithered and burrowed into the wound on my shoulder, searching for the bullet. I felt the ground vibrate, and after something grazed my leg I realized that they were shooting into the ground blindly. I kicked with my legs, moving away. I still couldn’t see or hear, I could barely smell anything but blood.

  Saia wrenched the silver out of my wound, tearing flesh in the process, but the agony abated immediately and I was grateful. I felt my body lurch as healing started up again.

  “Sa…i…a,” I managed to gurgle out. “K…ill.”

  I felt a vibration in my skull, her trying to tell me something with a piece of her that was deep in my ear canal, but all I could hear was a buzzing sound. My eardrums were ruptured, or at the very least heavily damaged. I didn’t know if she understood what I tried to say, but a moment later the vibrations on the ground next to me from the gunfire stopped.

  I rolled, got my one remaining hand beneath me and pushed, getting up to my knees. With a moment to breathe, with my body finally able to kick into gear and start healing, I focused on making a plan.

  The skills I’ve slotted in my profiles had been more geared toward combat, I hadn’t expected getting ambushed and decimated like this, but… at least I had [Lesser Constitution] active. It was hard to imagine that the damage could’ve been worse, but I shuddered to think how much that small skill helped.

  I started making a plan. I didn’t have eyes, they were burned out and would probably be healed last, as they were far more complicated than simple flesh. The thirst cared only about survival, it would fix the important bits first, and I could tell that there were a lot of those. My arm was in the same boat as my eyes, bones regrew slower, and an arm was less important than fixing a hole in my chest—which I was pretty sure I had, my heart hadn’t beat once. I couldn’t tell if it was completely gone or just so damaged that it couldn’t beat.

  The first thing I needed to do was hide.

  [Quick Swap Slot — Mistshroud>Lesser Camouflage]

  I tensed my legs activated the skill and hoped that Saia’s drones were distracting my foes enough. I jumped, trying to angle myself but unable to be sure as I was completely disoriented. The air surged around me as I rose, then started to fall. I crashed through the top of a tree, breaking branches on the way down. I grunted as one broke off and pierced my stomach then was rammed in further as I fell on top of on the ground. I cried out in pain and rolled, grabbed the branch and pulled it out as I hissed.

  So fucking stupid. I just had to come all alone, had to be so fucking stupid.

  I reached for my chest and pulled my Mask out, then slipped it over my face. The surge of power made me shiver, I felt the thirst surge, the pain of healing intensified.

  [Blood Empowerment]

  [Overburn Skill — Lesser Stamina Recovery]

  The tiredness, the aches and pains, lessened. I stood up, my ears still ringing, my sight shrouded in darkness. I rammed two fingers into my nostrils, clearing up the blood and grime that had plugged them. I shook my head, dislodging the rest, then took a deep breath. A myriad of scents assaulted me, but I couldn’t quite parse them all. My mind was too weighed down by all the other sensations.

  I had to do something, I couldn’t afford to sit still and wait to heal enough, there were enemies around. An idea occurred to me, and I focused.

  [Channeled Blood—Essence Door: Guo Zhang]

  I felt something inside of me reach out and attach itself to a piece buried deep within me, a piece of a person, an Essence of who they were. Then I started to pull.

  My entire mindset shifted, I became aware of so much more as I embodied the old shifter whose blood had pushed me, unlocked the power of my bloodline, someone who had centuries of life, of experience to draw on. It was a strange sensation, but felt completely natural. I took another breath, smelling my surrounding.

  A shifter’s nose was more sensitive than a vampire’s, and they usually had far more experience with navigating the world through scent alone. Let the experience of the shifter guide me.

  I found the scent of blood, of fear, of sweat. As I focused, I even felt the imprints in the Way as they used skills. I rolled my one good shoulder, then dashed forward, running through the forest, blind and deaf, and on a warpath.

  Markus ran through the forest, clutching his left hand tightly in his right, trying to stem the bleeding from his missing fingers. His head was on a swivel, looking for any sign of the silver menace that bit his fingers off. He had managed to punch it hard enough with his [Strong Strike] to get it away from him, maybe even kill it, but he had seen more than one of the beasts, and he wasn’t about to take a chance.

  He didn’t know what was happening to the others, or Proximus, but Markus was done with all of this. He just watched a vampire tank a fucking artillery strike, and he knew that those shells were enhanced by skills. They’ve used them to kill a giant turtle the size of a football stadium that had been roaming near Tenneck after bullets and other skills could barely scratch it.

  And on top of all of that, now he had dog sized dragons attacking. He believed in Proximus, but he also wanted to live.

  A rustle behind made him turn around just in time to see a ghastly shape looming over him. He opened his mouth to scream, but a blood soaked arm grabbed his neck, raising him up into the air. The vampire’s head was covered by a black and emerald mask, a monstrous visage with sharp teeth and horns. One of her arms was missing, and she had a fist sized indent on the right side of her chest where flesh stretched and moved as if it was alive, weaving itself back together. Her clothes were just rags, hanging loosely and barely covering anything, so he could clearly see a ruined body covered in wounds, some so deep that he could see bones peeking out.

  Markus tried to reach for the knife at his waist, he had lost his gun when the dragon attacked, but he wasn’t fast enough. He was lurched forward, and wide bloody jaws snapped over the side of his neck.

  Death came quickly.