"My lady, the troops are in position."
"Good." Virginia swept the curls of her red, wavy hair aside before putting on her helm. The Blood Queen didn't afford her female subordinate a second glance.
The knights of Archduchess Virginia were all clad in crimson armor and riding upon massive and ferocious nightmares. There was a high proportion of female vampire knights in Virginia's personal army, most of them young orphans and prostitutes who she had liberated from slums and red light districts in the richer cities of Tyranvania. A lot of them had been human slaves, captured from Havan and smuggled to Tyranvania as blood suppliers and other less desirable jobs.
Even though vampires were technically undead, they were still humans. In other words, they continued to possess human desires and foibles such as lust, greed and pride. Since vampires usually regarded themselves as superior beings, virtually none of them would lower themselves to jobs like prostitution, and as such they abducted humans to fulfil that sort of role.
There were legends and rumors that Virginia had been one human prostitute herself, until she killed a male vampire who bought her service and drank his blood, becoming a vampire herself. From there she rose to the top through sheer strength and skill, besting many vampire nobles and even acquiring their titles and ranks for herself. And after several centuries of fighting, she rose all the way to the top, and was now an archduchess and second only to royalty.
It was no surprise that she had been touted as the next successor as the queen of vampires, to become the next Divine General…and perhaps even the next Demonic Empress.
Of course, she had to first eliminate the upstart Demonic Emperor who undeservedly achieved his position by virtue of some stupid crest that was supposed to prove that he had been chosen by the gods or some such nonsense.
Never mind that that boy had defeated the previous king of vampires, Vincent Lucard, and drank his blood. never mind that that boy had defeated more than half of the so-called strongest Hero party so far and came closest to avenging the previous Demonic Emperor…more so than the other demon nobles still squabbling among themselves for power and petty ambition.
"Get ready, my warriors!" Virginia shouted, raising her red lance high into the air. Her special all-female vampire knight regiment – also known as the Vampire Valkyries – mimicked her movement, raising their spears and crying in unison. They were her personal guard, elite vampire knights handpicked by Virginia herself after intense training and also after proving themselves in battle. They were among the most feared vampire troops in Tyranvania.
"My lady!"
"For our lady!"
Beneath her helm, Virginia's lip curled into a feral smile. She could feel the bloodlust surging through her system. She tightened her grip on the handle of her lance and allowed her crimson mana to shimmer around her ruby armor. Her emerald eyes glinted underneath the visor. She could feel her muscles hardening from her blood magic.
"Today…the young upstart shall fall!" she yelled, her voice resounding across the battlefield. "We shall show him and his deluded followers the fury of the Crimson Tide!"
"OH!" her soldiers roared in approval, holding up their spears in response to her speech. Even their mounts responded, neighing fiercely and stamping their hooves restlessly on the ground. Their dark manes flared aggressively.
"My Vampire Valkyries." Virginia turned to her most distinguished personal guard. "You will have the honor of following me and leading the attack. We will smash through the Lyon's pitiful defenses!"
"My lady…" one of the Vampire Valkyries spoke up hesitantly. Even though her features were concealed by her helm, her voice was unmistakably feminine. "I must object to this course of action. It's too dangerous for you to be leading the vanguard. At least stay with the main body and wait until we clear a path���"
"Nonsense, Veronica," Virginia cut off her most trusted subordinate. "I will lead the attack. That's my duty as the commander. How can I order my soldiers to do something I wouldn't do? Remember what I taught you. A commander must always lead by example."
"I understand. But the danger…"
"I am aware of the danger." Virginia turned to regard the protesting Veronica, her voice softening. "And I'm grateful for your concern, Veronica. But I shall not be gainsaid. I will breach the enemies' defenses and open a path for the main army. And you of all people know that I am the only one capable of doing so."
She gestured toward the gleaming crimson blood barrier with her lance.
"Only I have the power to rip open their blood barriers and formations. If the enemy's barrier isn't breached, then our assault will be for naught. Our women and men will die for nothing."
Veronica swallowed, but she was unable to refute her lady's statement.
"And besides…that's why I have you and the rest of the Vampire Valkyries for. You're my best and most reliable personal guard. I will be depending on you to watch my back."
Veronica straightened her back and saluted with her lance.
"Understood, my lady! We will guard you with our lives!"
"Then it's decided." Virginia nudged her nightmare with her crimson boots. The black warhorse neighed before charging forward. "Move out!"
"OH!"
With a unified bellow, ten thousand vampire knights, all clad in crimson armor, charged down the slope and toward the castle of Claude Lyon.
*
"The Blood Queen really went and did it."
Gregory's voice was dripping with contempt. He lowered his binoculars and shook his head.
"I heard that she's mad, but I never thought she would charge a fully fortified castle head-on."
The vampire knight beside him laughed. Dressed in black armor, the regiment of Duke Gregory resembled shadows. Their night-colored figures blended into the shadows cast by the surrounding trees and hills, almost rendered invisible by the shade.
"It will save us a lot of trouble if the Blood Queen gets herself killed in that reckless charge of hers."
Gregory snorted and sent his laughing subordinate a skeptical glance. "If only we would be so lucky, Larson. But knowing her, that won't happen. She will lose a lot of her troops, make no mistake, but that bloody bitch is immortal. Nothing can kill her."
"I'm sure you can, my lord," Larson said dismissively. "There are few demons in the Demonic Empire who can challenge you in a contest of blades."
"Indeed I have the skills to best her in a one-on-one duel. But the Blood Queen isn't an opponent I can underestimate. As a general, she is peerless. Only the marchioness Eleanor is a better tactician. And her troops are fanatically loyal to her. Even though they are mostly women, they can best most regular male demon troops."
"But we aren't just any regular male demon troops, are we, my lord?" Larson scoffed.
"Perhaps, but didn't you make the mistake of underestimating them during our previous encounter with them? Still haven't learned your lesson after getting your lung and kidney gouged out?"
"They had me outnumbered," Larson replied, simmering. "They work well enough in numbers, I'll give them that."
"And what they have are numbers." Gregory looked at Larson sternly. If his second-in-command wasn't a vampire, he would have died from those wounds. It was only his regenerative abilities that pulled him back from the brink of death and allowed him to recover. "I've told you, there is more to war than your skills with a sword. Tactics, strategy, numbers, terrain, formations…all these matter a lot more than individual swordsmanship."
"Yes, my lord."
Larson lowered his head, but the duke noticed that the vampire knight was placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. Not out of anger or a desire to strike at his lord, but more of a flex…to restore his confidence in his swordsmanship. His ego had been bruised after suffering such an ignominious defeat at the hands of the Vampire Valkyries in the previous battle, and he couldn't wait to wash that shame away with more achievements on the battlefield.
"However, speaking of individual swordsmanship, my lord…there is one man you will have to take note of when we assault Claude's castle."
"Ah, that's right. Baron Valencia. The Blood Sword Demon…and the only man to ever best me in a duel of blades." Gregory tightened his grip on the reins of his nightmare. "But I have improved ever since that defeat. If we are to fight again now, I cannot say for sure who will win."
He made no mention of Valencia's age. For vampires, the concept of growing old was laughable, for they were technically immortal. They could indefinitely extend their lifespans by drinking blood. As long as they had a supply of blood, they wouldn't die unless their heads were destroyed. And with immortality came eternal youth.
All vampires were capable, to a certain extent, of altering their physical appearances. If Baron Valencia chose to adopt an aged appearance with wrinkles and white hair, he did so out of vanity and not because he was truly that ancient. It was to project an air of wisdom, experience and authority. If he so desired, he could revert his appearance to that of his prime anytime he wanted.
"Look at them go," one of the vampire knights whispered, watching the red-armored warriors of the Crimson Tide charge toward the castle. "There's so many of them. Perhaps they might be able to break through the barrier."
"So what?" Larson snorted. He turned to gesture at the thousand-strong Dark Night Regiment. "We might not have their numbers, but we are the most skilled among vampires. Our Dark Night can easily hold our own against the Crimson Tide."
"Yes, sir!" Emboldened, the obsidian knights bellowed confidently.
"That said, my lord…" Larson turned to Gregory. "Why aren't we attacking?"
"Why should we?" Gregory grinned. "We do not have the numbers of the Blood Queen's Crimson Tide. Let them bear the brunt of the assault first…let them wear down the defenses of the Lyon province first. Then only we commit our forces. If we play this right, we'll be able to wipe out two exhausted forces and reap the rewards."
"That's…brilliant, my lord." Larson swallowed, sounding amazed. Gregory suppressed an exasperated sigh and turned away to roll his onyx eyes.
"Like I told you, Larson…there is more to war than just your sword skills. Sometimes, you have to use your head. And besides…"
He turned to stare further up ahead. Beyond the forest, and in the valley beyond, yet another army awaited.
"The archduke Stryker has yet to make his move too. I'm sure he's thinking the same thing…of taking advantage of the confusion to kill two birds with one stone. That sly old fox…we've to be wary of him too."
"Can't you beat him, my lord?"
"In a contest of arms, probably. But not in battle of blood spells. I hate to admit it, but there's no stronger user of blood magic than that guy." Gregory looked like he had a headache. "Right now, he's the single most powerful vampire alive. More powerful than even that bloody bitch herself."
*
"My lord, the Blood Queen and her Crimson Tide has begun their assault."
"I see." Stryker gave his subordinate a nod, his golden armor gleaming in the sun. His personalized nightmare grunted and glared at the kneeling vampire, its mane actually blazing with fire. The Berserk King chuckled and stroked the black fur of his nightmare, trying to calm it down. "Huh, even you can't wait to get into the fight, huh, Maine."
The subordinate swallowed and kept his chrome helmed head bowed. "Your orders, my lord?"
"Wait." Stryker raised a gauntleted hand, the golden armor shining with polish. "We will allow the Blood Queen to spend her forces against the so-called Demonic Emperor's fortress. Hopefully she will not disappoint and breach his defenses and wear his defenders down."
He then glanced at the forest a few kilometers away from the valley where he had mustered his legion.
"I see that the Knight of the Night and his Dark Night have also come to watch the show."
"Should we eliminate them first, my lord?"
"No hurry. They will want a piece of the action too, otherwise they wouldn't have shown up." Stryker shook his head. "There is little point to wasting our strength before the main battle. Even though the Dark Night numbers only a thousand vampires, their military power is equal to a force ten times their number. While there is no doubt we will prevail, the losses we sustain will be significant and we will very possibly be forced to abort the assault on the upstart."
"I understand, my lord."
Stryker sighed and pulled the reins when Maine tried to stride off, stopping his mount.
"Be patient, my friend," he whispered. "You will have your own fill of blood soon."
Stryker then turned to his kneeling subordinate and held out a hand. The vampire knight rose to his feet and gestured to one of the servants, who ran off and returned with a glass of wine. The Berserk King then accepted the glass and drained it in a single gulp. Closing his eyes, he felt crimson mana surge through his body, empowering him. The servant instinctively stepped back after retrieving the now empty glass, sensing the power that flooded his lord. Ignoring the nervous servant who was hurrying away, Stryker licked his lips and opened his gray eyes.
"Ah…nothing like fresh blood before a battle."
He then turned back toward the Lyon castle and clicked his armored fingers, a broad smile spreading over his handsome features.
"Wait for my signal…then we will join the fray."