The ultimate horror of any military force was an enemy that could not be seen or predicted. Julien and the remaining militia were no exception.
"What does it take for your faith to break?"
The Blood Collectors always speak in riddles and questions. No one is sure why. Not even Drake.
Julien disregarded the Blood Collector's gibberish questions as he pulled another vial. It was a dark crimson, similar to blood. If one was sensitive enough, they would feel a powerful malevolence coming from it.
Instead of drinking, Julien threw the vial towards the doorway to the inner courtyard. Upon breaking, the area grew foliage and vines that moved and attacked anything nearby.
"Rush through, lest you get killed by it!" Julien ordered the militia.
Why should one summon a creature that you have no chance to control? It makes on hell of a distraction. It can also work as a temporary wall against powerful foes.
"Why do you need what you waste?" The Blood Collector said.
As the sixth militia went through the doorway, the two behind him were not so lucky. The first was caught by the plants, while the other was decapitated by the Blood Collector from behind.
Julien dove into the inner courtyard, landing with a somersault.
'That was a 6 1/2 landing.' Julien thought, grimacing at himself.
Of the six militia left, the archer that Julien had paired up with was the only one he recognized. Of the others, three were a poor imitation of light infantry while the others were a shield bearer and a ranger.
'That reminds me... how is his group doing?'
Julien felt that Fentor was damn close to completing his task. The first part, at least.
A new voice sounded from the inner courtyard's depths.
"If you must make a racket and cause a scene, I would ask that you do it elsewhere."
Julien froze in place. His eyes turned from their original color to an abyssal black.
The militia shivered when they saw this, then promptly collapsed.
"Why must you keep attacking your home, Julien? After all, you proclaimed that your exile was self-inflicted."
The tone wasn't mocking or ridiculing. Rather, disappointed.
From behind one of the pillars came a thin figure. She was a beautiful sight, if not for the dress she wore.
It was mismatched colors. No tailor would have been proud of this creation. Unbalanced, too brightly colored, and completely insane.
Julien knew her as his childhood fancy, and the only vampire who didn't care how he treated her. Lynca Detno, the Princess of vampires.