Sparks and ashes rose into the night sky, swirling and dancing in the wind before drifting slowly down like a searing snowfall.
Even standing at the edge of the temple square, one could feel the scorching heat.
For a brief moment, it felt as though winter in the North had already passed.
The city guards arrived one after another.
Carrying buckets and grappling hooks, they realized at a glance that a fire of this scale could not be extinguished by a few buckets of water.
Fortunately, the area surrounding the temple was open and spacious, free of other buildings.
At least the fire would not spread to neighboring structures in the short term.
Some guards shouted for reinforcements as they ran, while others began driving back the gathering crowd of citizens.
Nikus had caught his breath. Pushing up his visor, he revealed a pale face that had regained a hint of color, and began barking orders in a raspy voice:
“Clear away all flammable materials around the perimeter and establish a firebreak!
“Cordon off the area! No unauthorized personnel are allowed near the flames!”
Rosie grabbed a wooden bucket from a guard, walked over to Balu, and splashed a full bucket of cold water straight onto his face.
The beastkin sat bolt upright, water dripping down his green skin to leave a dark, wet stain on the dry stone floor.
His eyes went wide as he stared blankly at the burning Temple of Art.
The flickering firelight cast shifting shadows across Rosie's face.
She was deeply worried.
On one hand, she feared for Vera's safety; on the other, she was terrified that the vampire elder might escape once again.
If it managed to slip away now, who knew how long it would take to track down next time.
Shouts from the city guards dispersing the onlookers and brief arguments echoed from the edge of the square, but the roaring flames quickly drowned them out.
Just then, a cadence of heavy, synchronized footsteps echoed from beyond the square.
The crowd parted automatically to form a path.
Countess Eliza had arrived.
She wore full plate armor with a sword hanging at her waist, followed by a large contingent of well-equipped soldiers.
Upon entering the square, the soldiers fanned out, quickly encircling the burning temple and cordoning off the onlookers, handmaidens, and even the city guards to the outer perimeter.
Eliza quickly surveyed the scene, spotted Nikus, and marched straight over.
“Nikus, are you alright?”
Nikus raised his head and gave a slight nod. “I'm fine, just minor injuries.”
Eliza's gaze lingered for a moment on the dent in his breastplate before shifting back to his face.
“What on earth happened here? What caused such a commotion?”
Nikus took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. “The High Priestess of the temple was actually a vampire in disguise.”
“What? The High Priestess was a vampire?” Astonishment washed over Eliza's face.
“Indeed. Lady Vera is still inside—”
Nikus's words were cut short by a deafening crash.
Boom!
A roaring explosion burst from the burning temple's main entrance.
Two figures shot out from the flames one after the other, streaking through the firelit air before crashing onto the stone floor of the square.
Thud!
The first to hit the ground was an ashen torso.
Only her upper body remained; both arms and everything below her waist were gone, leaving charred, blackened edges at the severed stumps.
Her once-broad bat wings were completely gone as well, leaving behind nothing but two burnt, jagged stubs behind her shoulder blades.
Her face was covered in terrible burns. One eye socket was a hollow void, while the other eye remained open, its light severely dimmed.
Vera landed immediately after.
Her feet struck the flagstones, her knees buckling slightly before she forced herself to stand upright again.
The curved horns on her forehead were at least twice as long as before, their surfaces covered in fine hairline cracks.
Deep gashes marred her skin all over her body, glowing with a faint, dark crimson light from within—as if an inferno deep inside her was clawing to break free.
The arm that held her rapier was gone entirely from below the shoulder down.
The severed stump was cauterized shut by extreme heat, the surrounding skin slightly curled back to reveal greyish-brown scorched muscle tissue beneath.
The surrounding guards reacted instantaneously.
The raspy ring of blades drawing from scabbards echoed around the edges of the square.
“A demon!”
“Protect the Countess!—”
Rosie stepped forward in an instant, shielding Vera from the guards drawing their swords.
“She's a Dawnguard! Lower your weapons!”
Nikus also raised a hand toward the armed guards. “Hold your fire! She isn't a demon.”
The guards didn't lower their weapons immediately.
Their glances flicked back and forth between Nikus and Rosie before shifting toward the Countess, awaiting her order.
Eliza's eyes lingered on Vera for a brief second before she commanded, “Stand down!”
Only then did the guards sheathe their weapons and step back.
Vera stood in place, glancing down at the stump of her right arm before looking up at Rosie and Nikus. “My thanks,” she murmured.
The moment the words left her mouth, she staggered slightly forward.
Rosie reached out to support her.
The moment her fingertips brushed against Vera's skin—
Sizzle—
Rosie yanked her hand back. A small red burn mark was left on her fingertip, throbbing with a persistent, searing pain.
“Don't touch me right now.”
Vera's voice was hoarse, and faint wisps of white smoke still drifted from the edges of her horns.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes.
Then, the horns on her forehead began to shrink and recede at a visible pace.
The cracked fissures on her skin gradually closed up, and the scales faded away, restoring her original skin tone.
Her hair quickly blanched, turning silver-white in a matter of seconds.
Vera doubled over and vomited a large mouthful of blood.
The instant the blood hit the ground, it hissed softly and rapidly evaporated into a cloud of white steam.
Immediately after, her body swayed and pitched forward.
This time, Rosie didn't hesitate, reaching out to catch her.
Vera's body was still scalding hot, but no longer burning to the touch.
“Are you alright?” Rosie asked.
Vera's lips twitched, but before she could make a sound, another gloating voice rasped from the ground:
“Far from alright. She drew far too much power from the Abyss, draining every last drop of her vitality and mana...”
The vampire elder lay flat on the stone floor, the corner of her mouth twitching as if attempting to force a sneer.
However, before she could break into a grin, she froze.
A heavy boot was stomping squarely onto her mangled face.
“Shut your mouth. Reduced to this state and you're still talking tough?”
As Rosie spoke, she pressed down even harder with her foot.
Yet the vampire cared not in the least, speaking beneath Rosie's heavy boot:
“Vampire hunter, here is a piece of advice: drink my blood and become my thrall. That way, not only will you survive, but you will also attain eternal life...”
Leaning against Rosie, Vera raised her dull, dim eyes.
“All mortals must die. I do not regret my choice.”
“Is that so? I hope you keep thinking that.”
The vampire elder fell silent, her halved body lying motionless against the flagstones.
Nikus removed his helmet, his expression finally relaxing.
He walked over, looked down at the motionless upper torso, and then looked up at Vera:
“Lady Vera, outstanding work. Now it will never harm another soul.”
Leaning on Rosie, Vera turned her head slightly, forcing a small smirk. “I hope His Highness the Third Prince's bounty doesn't disappoint. I truly risked my life for this.”
Nikus chuckled—a warm smile that saw the light of day after long days of suppression.
“Rest assured, Lady Vera, I shall report everything truthfully. Now, how should we dispose of it?”
“Sever its head just to be safe, then wait for dawn so the sunlight can thoroughly purify whatever remains.”
Having spoken, Vera's energy gave out entirely, and she sank into unconsciousness.
“Understood. Get some rest.”
Nikus turned and walked toward Countess Eliza.
“My weapon was left inside. May I borrow your sword?”
Eliza nodded, reached for the hilt of the sword at her waist, and drew the blade from its sheath.
The blade glistened with a smooth metallic sheen in the firelight.
Nikus smiled and extended his hand.
Then, his smile froze.
Swish!
A soft whistle echoed.
With lightning speed, the sword thrust straight into Nikus's eye socket!
“Elizabeth sends her regards,” Eliza whispered softly.
Rate on N.U.
