by Thomas Green
“Is… Nehamah alive?”
“Yes.”
Collward smiled. “I would lie if I said I do not envy you the hope. While I had wished I could have reasoned with you, I see that is clearly not an option.”
Lucas plowed through the next two puppets. “I am sorry, Edward, but you will die here today.”
“I have no intention of doing that.”
“That is not up for a discussion.” Lucas destroyed the next set of puppets. “Four puppets left.”
“Indeed.” Collward rose from his chair and pulled an elegant greatsword from the side of the throne, his eyes shining with an inner light, his tail weaving around his legs, his horns casting a massive shadow onto the wall behind him. Two axe-wielding knight puppets moved to life, while twin puppets of armored women weaved to Collward’s sides.
Lucas soulstepped behind the closest statue of a knight and stabbed it into the neck. He turned the stab into a whirl, slicing off the head.
Pain erupted from Lucas’ right arm. He glanced at it to see four sharp needles digging through the armor and into his flesh.
Lucas remembered which of the Twins shot the needles out of its mouth and spun to face the second knight puppet. The knight swung his sword. The strike started slow but turned into lightning speed. Lucas weaved away, the blade grazing his armor.
Collward closed the distance to Lucas with a blazing-fast dash and swung down his greatsword. Lucas soulstepped behind the needle Twin and stabbed at its neck. The needle Twin whirled to parry his stab while the other Twin sprung blades from out of its body and leapt at Lucas.
Lucas weaved away from the attack and stabbed at its knee. The blade Twin blocked his stab with a spin. Collward was at Lucas again. Lucas parried the strike, soulstepped to the knight puppet and pierced its shoulder.
The knight puppet grabbed his spear, and the needle Twin released a barrage of needles. Lucas soulstepped the needles away, but Collward closed the distance once more. Lucas pulled the spear out of the puppet and blocked. His steel spear almost bent under the strike's weight. Lucas’ feet left the ground as the force of the impact threw him into the wall. Pain shot through his body and the air forced itself out of his lungs.
The needle Twin unleashed a volley of needles. Lucas ducked, but four needles hit him in the side, sending a fiery burst of pain through his body.
Lucas gritted his teeth, soulstepped to the knight puppet and stabbed through its kneecap. The blade Twin swayed to him, slashing at his head. Lucas turned to use the knight puppet as a shield.
In the reflection of the knight’s armor, he saw Collward tower behind him, swinging down his blade. Lucas spun away, but Collward kicked him in the chest. Blinding pain flared through Lucas as he crashed into the knight puppet.
The blade Twin stepped to Lucas, trying to slice his throat. Lucas crouched between the knight’s legs. The blade Twin stopped its swing, opened its mouth and spewed a torrent of flames at Lucas.
Lucas pulled an open barrel full of oil from out of his soul chamber and soulstepped away. The torrent of flames made the barrel explode with a thunderous blast.
Collard withstood the explosion, but the knight puppet shattered and the blade Twin was thrown to the wall.
Lucas soulstepped behind Collward and sunk his spear into Collward’s chest. The chest opened like a box, revealing nothing but a globe of pure energy. Lucas flicked his wrist to soulstep the globe to the needle Twin. The blinding explosion of light reduced the puppet to nothing.
Edward whirled to swing at Lucas. He parried and spun for a sweeping slash.
Collward’s chest closed while the blade Twin jumped to block the attack for him.
Lucas stabbed high but bent the feinting strike into a stab at Collward’s knee. The knee shattered into a spray of blood and bones.
Collward shouted with pain. Lucas soulstepped to his side. Collward spun on his other leg. The slash hit Lucas into his left shoulder. The impact crushed the bones beneath the armor and sent him crashing into the wall. He screamed out with pain.
The second he hit the wall, the blade Twin dashed to him, spinning like a madman’s top made of swords. By instinct alone, Lucas jolted back and threw his spear. With a boom, the spear flew through the puppet’s neck, decapitating it.
Collward used his greatsword for a cane to stay on his feet. Lucas rose, grunting. His vision was blurred while pain pummeled his body. His strength was bleeding out from his shoulder.
He focused on pulling a broken claymore out of his soul chamber, a mere hilt with an inch of the blade.
Collward’s eyes widened. “Is that…?”
Lucas didn’t bother to speak but focused his aether on the hilt to form a blade of pure darkness. “Farewell, my friend.” Lucas soulstepped to Collward’s side, severed his arm, soulstepped to his other side, slashed apart Collward’s second knee, soulstepped behind him and chopped off his head.
The entire fortress started trembling as if hit by an earthquake.
***
The hallways in front of the treasure shook and trembled. A wall of the corridor caved in, revealing a drill made of blood. The drill finished spinning and disappeared. From inside the hole came a tall man dressed in black armor and cloak, holding a massive waraxe over his shoulder, soldiers swarming behind him.
He turned his bright blue eyes toward the treasury room and smiled. “Now this is one man I did not expect to see. Nashimaeal, the Vampire Hunter, or should I say, the Prince of Chains? It’s been a while.”
Archbishop Nashimaeal met his gaze. “Says James Laen’Ash, the last king of the Old Kingdom and the only vampire who has managed to avoid me. Until now.”
James motioned his men to a halt and stepped toward the treasury, alone. “You are too old for this.”
Nashimaeal scoffed. “I am still young enough to notice you neither carry your black powder weapons nor have your dog with you.”
James laughed. “True. Back in the day, I would have already ran a bullet through your head.”
“Back in the day, I was fast enough to dodge.” Nashimaeal stretched out his hand and chains of light shot forward. James ducked to sprint ahead below the chains. The chains bent. James strafed to the side, but the chains wrapped around his left arm. Nashimaeal stood up and pulled. The chains tore off James’ limb.
James rammed his shoulder into the provisory barricade. The barricade and the Palai soldiers behind it flew aside like tumbleweed in a hurricane. Nashimaeal leapt back and shot half a dozen more chains. James weaved between the chains, swinging his waraxe. Geysers of blood filled the air as his blade severed limbs while the axe’s barb pierced through the soldier’s armor.
Nashimaeal spread his arms and wrapped his chains around James’ leg, tearing it off. James leapt forward, swinging after Nashimaeal. With a swift move of his chains, Nashimaeal stopped James’ axe an inch away from his face. The chains of light caught James and squeezed him like an old lemon before tearing him to shreds.
Nashimaeal drew his chains back to encase his body and turned to his men. “Keep your guard!”
James’ body and armor exploded into blood, which swirled through the air like a tornado, drawing in blood from the room, corpses, and wounds of living men. The whirlpool doused all torches and oil lamps, sinking the hall into darkness safe for Nashimaeal’s shining chains.
Akin to twin sapphire stars, James’ eyes pierced the blackness and illuminated the deathly skin of his face and the two prolonged fangs descending from beyond his upper lip as he fully recreated himself from blood. He sneered and whirled to the Palai soldiers. Nashimaeal shot out his chains, but jets of blood knocked them aside as James tore through the remaining soldiers.
Nashimaeal stretched out dozens of chains from out of his sleeves, making them weave by the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. Within the tornado of blood, James charged at the archbishop.
Nashimaeal directed all his chains at James. He stepped in, swinging down his axe. In a blur of light, Nashimaeal weaved f
rom the blow and pierced the swirling blood with the chains. James leapt forward. Nashimaeal caught his right arm and legs with the chains and tore them off. James grabbed the archbishop with his last limb, pulled in and buried his fangs in the priest’s throat.
Nashimaeal screamed in pain and the chains of light dissipated. While drinking the life essence of the archbishop, James reformed his lost limbs. He tore the fangs away, and the wound closed in an instant. James straightened his fingers and swung his arm to pierce through Nashimaeal’s chest. After his hand exited through the archbishop’s back, he withdrew the arm and threw him at the wall.
Nashimaeal slid down by the blood-drenched stone, unable to stand. The entire fortress started trembling as if hit by a massive earthquake.
James turned to his men. “Everyone, grab what you can, one trip each!”
His soldiers confirmed and rushed in to take all the treasures they could.
James walked to the wall, speaking to Nashimaeal in a calm tone. “Collward has fired off the safety… talk about an inconvenience.”
Nashimaeal spat out blood. “I sure have… gotten old.”
“Oh, yes.” James laughed. He pried open a small secret door from the wall, revealing a pedestal topped by a pulsating blue orb. After he grabbed the stone, James walked back to Nashimaeal. “I was right to have avoided you, for a century ago I would have had no hope of defeating you.”
Nashimaeal formed a pain-twisted smile.
James ducked above him. “Here, why don’t you hold this for me until you bleed out?” He put the pulsating stone into Nashimaeal’s hand. “It’s the safety that’s keeping the fortress standing. If it leaves the room or touches the ground, the fortress collapses, and I believe you have more than a few people you don’t want to die in the rubble.” He straightened and grabbed a large, golden candleholder. “Oh, and don’t worry, for I will survive even if you let the mountain collapse upon me.”
James and his men left through the tunnel they dug and collapsed it behind them.
***
Lucas towered above Collward’s corpse. He rattled through the remains with the blade made of darkness. There was no hint of organs. He could have replaced most of his body with puppet parts, but he couldn’t have replicated everything.
Lucas split Collward’s head in half. A large crystal glistened where the brain would have been. This was a puppet. He sneered and stretched out his aether into a massive globe. The energy pierced the walls, sprawled through the hallways and encompassed all it encountered. He felt the presence of every being within the mountain, every man, every demon and every insect. A tear slid down his face as he noticed Nashimaeal’s dying form.
Farewell, my old friend. He focused and found Collward running through a hidden corridor. You are not getting away.
Lucas soulstepped to Collward’s flank and slashed. The blade of darkness severed Collward’s shoulder as if he was made of butter.
Collward screamed out in pain and leapt to the side, dodging Lucas’ consecutive swing by a fraction of an inch. He spun on the ground to shoot a hand crossbow from his hip. The bolt dug below Lucas’ stomach.
Lucas grunted with pain, soulstepped above Collward and stabbed, sinking the blade of darkness into Collward’s forehead.
Edward Collward’s body went limp. Lucas withdrew the blade to check that the head contained a brain. This was the real one.
Lucas sagged down by the wall, pulled a potion from out of his soul chamber and threw its contents into his throat. He lost consciousness the second the liquid reached his stomach, sending his spirit up into the Limbo.
Lucas slipped into Edward Collward’s soul chamber, a vast workshop of wood and steel. He sat by the wall and waited for Collward’s spirit to arrive, peering at his sleeping form that lay within a simple bed.
Collward’s body jolted upward, and his eyes sprung open. He froze the second he noticed Lucas, who was sitting by the side of the room.
Lucas smiled. “I am sorry, Puppeteer, but I cannot let you live.”
Collward shook his head. “Is it worth it? Is whatever you are trying to achieve worth killing us? We were your champions, your chosen, and the most loyal of your subjects.”
“You would have done the same for your daughter.”
“Yes… I would have.” Collward laughed. “It’s so ironic. When I first heard of you, I couldn’t comprehend what you had done. Yet now, now that I have a daughter I can call my own, I understand why you committed the ultimate crime. I have a pair of requests for you, King.”
Lucas shrugged. “I’m listening.”
“First, tell the Queen, tell Nehamah that I am sorry, for I would have loved to have stayed by her side.”
Lucas nodded.
“For my second request, I want you to watch over Elizabeth.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Is there any word on the Ninth Legion?”
“It is being remade for the sole purpose of killing you, for the Red God has not let go of you betraying him.”
“Have you caught a whiff of my name?”
“No.”
“All right, within the limits of reason, I will watch over Elizabeth.”
Collward smiled with relief. “May you reclaim your name.”
Lucas’ power exploded through the soul chamber and shattered its entirety into million splinters. He tore the soul of Edward Collward to shreds, ending his dream.
***
Miranda sprinted back to the treasure room the second the fortress started trembling. A view of carnage was all that welcomed her. She ran to Nashimaeal, who lay crumbled by the wall, holding a pulsating stone. “Nash!” She ducked above him. “It will be alright! I will get you out of here.”
“Don’t.” Nashimaeal smiled. “I am beyond salvation.”
“I am not leaving you behind! The priests can put you back together.” Miranda shouted and tried to lift him.
“My spiritual core… is destroyed. My life cannot be saved.”
Miranda’s heart froze, and she let him go.
Nashimaeal slid down to the ground.
Miranda shook her head as tears slid down her face. “No… No. No! No! No! You will not die, Nash!”
“Listen, Miranda. One hundred and sixty-four years ago, four men and a fallen God revived a dead faith, turning a vampire-hunting guild into this very Holy Order. Out of the four men, there shall soon be none. Tell him… tell Lucas… that I am sorry for leaving him alone.”
“What are you talking about, Nash? Why are you telling me this now?”
“You need to know… you are now one of the four, one of his champions… the sixth head of the special forces in the history of the Order. Help Lucas. Help him find a way when he gets lost, when he loses his hope, when he cannot go on. Please, help your father stay human.”
“My... what?”
Nashimaeal smiled. “Go… tell the others to escape this place before it crumbles.”
“Shit!” Miranda screamed. “Fucking pile of shit! Farewell, Nash, may the heavens treat you well.” Miranda gritted her teeth, turned around and dashed away.
43
Lucas
Lucas sat by the stone wall next to the corpse of Edward Collward. Drying tears covered his face as he pulled a cigar out of his soul chamber and lit it up.
Swift steps echoed through the hallway and Miranda soon sprung up from behind the corner. An exchange of a single look resolved their conversation before it even started.
Miranda grabbed Lucas from under his intact shoulder, raised him and dragged him through the corridors. They arrived at the docks, which were under full control of Merewen and her men.
“Merewen! We need to run. The mountain is about to collapse,” Miranda shouted when she saw her.
Merewen’s eyes narrowed. “Where is Nash?”
Miranda gritted her teeth, and she shook her head.
Merewen’s face hardened as she turned to her soldiers. “Pack up and prepare a boat. We are leaving, now.”
Th
ey did as she bid. Miranda carried Lucas to the boat and put him down by the side.
Merewen arched an eyebrow when she noticed the bolt in Lucas’ lower abdomen. “Is that in the bladder?”
Lucas nodded with a frown.
Merewen smiled. “I don’t want to know how much that hurts.”
Less than a minute later, the boat was set, and they headed out from the docks. The bay opened before them, full of burning ships of the Union’s former fleet. They rowed among hundreds of floating corpses until they arrived at the starboard of a three-mast galleon, the fortress collapsing behind them.
Elias peered at them from the deck. “I don’t see Nash.”
Miranda looked him in the eyes and shook her head.
Elias’ expression turned grim. His soldiers threw them a net so they could climb onto the ship.
Once they reached the deck, Miranda lowered Lucas on the stretcher Elias’ men had brought.
“Bring wine from my collection,” Elias ordered his soldiers.
“Aye, aye, sir!”
Merewen and Miranda raised the stretcher and followed Elias to the sterncastle deck. For a long minute, they stood in silence, holding onto the railing while Lucas lit another cigar.
Merewen was the one to break the silence. “So, what happened?”
Miranda sighed. “I fucked up. We got the treasury and set up defenses. But I couldn’t handle waiting and left off to go beat things out on the slaver soldiers. When the mountain started trembling, I ran back, but all I found was corpses and an almost dead Nash.” Miranda took a pause to swallow her tears. “I am sorry… I disobeyed orders, and he lost his life as a consequence. I will accept any punishment and will hand over my resignation by tomorrow.”
Merewen and Elias kept glowering at her as if they wanted to murder her.
Lucas cleared his throat. “I killed Edward Collward, the Puppet Master. That’s one demonic prince down, seven more to go. With that, the Slaver Union’s army being wiped out and most of their leaders and assets destroyed or under our control, this campaign is over. I had arranged with Count Salazar to lead the legislative movement to abolish slavery across our allied lands, sealing our success. Well done, everyone.”
