"What's this?" Vladstin was sitting at his father's burned and blackened throne, petting something by his lap. "They are running to the woods to escape? That's silly. Isn't it, my pet?"
"Let them go....." Prince Leron, Vladstin's pet said begrudgingly. His eyes were drooping would soon lose consciousness.
Vladstin licked the blood off his lips, not paying him any attention. "Are they planning to evacuate to another kingdom? Who will help them when they have vampires chasing behind their backs? Soon, they will only run into closed gates."
"I didn't expect them to give up so easily. It's more fun watching them fight to their deaths, but we'll see how it goes."
The scene showed a bird's eye view of the war with Noble Huntsmen on horseback, focusing on a mass of long, curly brown hair.
"Every able-bodied man, take the children and the injured to the carriages!" Sangfroid yelled. "Let us all move quickly!"
Caravans and horses of all sizes took in as most people as they can, with Huntsmen and soldiers defending them from the monsters. Women with wailing babies were the first to get a ride, then the young ones, then the elderly, and all of the wagons and coaches got full, leaving many men out. Some accepted their fates as defenders and kisses their lovers and children goodbye as they were sent off to safety. Some children who had only learned how to speak saw their own fathers become bitten by the undead, blood spewing all around.
Some small children perished in the stampede.
In the face of death, sacrifices must be made.
"Uwahhhh....." An androgynous child was crying holding a stuffed weasel that was patched in different places with one eye hanging loosely by the thread. Based on their clothes, they must be a pauper.
Asver could not handle seeing another child stomped to death by selfish adults and scooped the young one onto his horse. "Zenon, cover for me!"
"There's too many of them!" A Hunstman named Zenon shouted as he kept shooting arrows, and he was running short. "We're not gonna make it!"
"Yes, we can! We need to bring as many people over the bridge and raise it up at the last moment!" Rothfir replied, sending support as his white stallion galloped faster.
Asver put the child on one of the nearest wagons, but a woman pushed the child back. "We're full already, sir! My kids will get squashed if we add more!"
"Damn it to hell, can't a single carriage give space for a single, small child!?" He exclaimed.
"Over here!"
He heard a woman's voice and a handkerchief fly out from one of the grandest caravans. It was Lilian, whose glasses were cracked and one of her twin braids loose.
Asver smiled and rushed towards her. "Lillian, you're a lifesaver!"
"What are you doing, girl!?" The old adviser chided her quietly and then turned to Asver. "No, we do not have any space here either!"
"It is you who I should ask what you're doing!" Lillian retorted. "We have enough space for a whole family yet you keep on refusing them entry!"
"They are commoners! This is a caravan for nobles!"
"What commoners and nobles!" Lilian fought till the end, her usually meek and coy demeanor gone and replaced with determination. "Vladstin proclaimed this as Judgement Day, do you think there would still be a distinction between the rich and the poor during Judgement Day!?"
The old adviser went quiet, and the other nobles inside the carriage who were planning to complain and whine also shut their mouths.
"That's what I thought, hmph!" Lillian turned to Asver and yelled. "Give the child here!"
"Which really is it?" Asver was confused and even the weasel child stopped crying and lifted their eyebrows.
"Don't listen to the old fart, there's enough space here for the child!" Lillian replied.
"Alright!" Asver handed the child to her, catching up to the noble's wagon with his chestnut steed. He gave Lillian a thumbs up. "You're a real hero, Lillian!"
"I know!" Lillian took the child in her arms and comforted them. "It's alright, little one. We're safe. What's your name?"
"Asvian." The child replied.
Lillian doesn't know whether to laugh or cry from that answer.
Asver focused on the fight, pulling the reins to turn to his fellow Huntsmen.
"Anyone who's running low on weapons, bash their heads with rocks!" Asver yelled. "I will trigger the catapults any second now, so fight only with what you can manage and gather your horses!"
Asver has put fiery balls on each of the catapults, aiming it by the bridge's gates. He tied the triggers with one very long rope that was slowly burning, creating a timer for them to shoot all at once.
"I think that's all of it. Sangfroid, let's move!" A Huntsman called out to Sangfroid who did not falter shooting vampires straight to the heart and beheading those who came close with a dagger. When he ran out of arrows, he punched and kicked them straight to the water.
He finally jumped up to the edge of the caravan where most Noble Huntsmen are, drenched in sweat and blood yet unaffected by it. "Does any of you have a spare arrow?"
"I got one!" A Huntsman with dark skin and freckles passed an arrow to him.
Sangfroid drew it with his bow, aiming at the very far distance of the drawbridge bridge pulley.
The men in the caravan watched tensely. One of them was biting his fingers while saying "Come on, it's so far away...."
"Shut up! If there's anyone who can do it, it's Sangfroid." Asver smacked his head. He then started to pray. "Oh holy dragon lord, give our Chief the sight of an eagle so that we may—"
"All of you let Sangfroid concentrate!" Rothfir snapped at them and patted Sangfroid's back. "You can do it, Chief. We believe in you."
"I know." Sangfroid was not affected by all their noise and focused on his aim and breathing. With his single visible eye, he remained focused on the target. Then.... he released, exhaling as he did.
The arrow flew like a bumblebee whizzing through the air. And then...
He pierced through the drawbridge's trigger, successfully raising the bridge up.
Just in time, the rope that served as a timer for the catapults burned out and a blast of metal balls of fire came raining down on the vampires rushing through the drawing bridge. They didn't stand a chance and their undead bodies were burnt to crisp.
The last remaining Ilvedians saw their kingdoms go in flames along with their vampire attackers.
They get to live for another day in exchange for their home.
"I must say, this impressed me a little." Vladstin remarked carelessly like he was just watching for good sport. "Especially how Hunter managed to shoot that arrow from nearly a quarter-mile away. I guess they're safe for now."
Prince Leron's couldn't watch the events from the Looking Glass because his sight was all blurry, and he was aching from the bite. But he can register enough of Vladstin's words to know that some Ilvedian's managed to survive. "My people.... Thank the gods...."
"Do not thank them yet." Vladstin stood up. "Who said that I will let them go just because they killed a bunch of my puppets?"
"What are you.... planning...." Leron tried to grab onto his cape, but he was too weak and fell to the ground helplessly.
"This just means that I have to make new ones. I am too full right now, so I would settle with scaring them until the next full moon." Vladstin rubbed his hands excitedly. "Oh, I should take this slow this time. What would be more torturous than believing you have escaped death only to be faced with your fear in an unfamiliar forest? I could already smell their distress...."
He inhaled deeply like a lecher, like he really can perversely breathe in the Ilvedians' fears. "Besides, I am interested in what Hunter is planning. I will give them a few days to rest. The same as you. Try no to cry when you wake up, it's so annoying."
"Vladstin...." Prince Leron was crawling on the ground, reaching out his hands, until he eventually collapsed.
While Vladstin was too busy monologuing on the poor Prince Leron, he wasn't able to hear the Noble Huntsmen's conversations.
"What do we do now, Chief?" Rothfir said, covering his head so it wouldn't bump with the small caravan's roof.
Sangfroid was quiet for a moment, and so everyone decided to be so as well, the rickety ride shaking them from side to side. He then said:
"Have any of you heard about the Mountain Hermit?"
The Noble Huntsmen were confused by this sudden topic.
"We all had." Asver rubbed his nose. "It's a staple to tell stories of wizards and sorcerers as children's bedtime stories."
"I heard he can grant wishes." Sangfroid said. "I want to find him."
The Noble Huntsmen all went. "Huh???"
"He's just a myth. An old wives' tale. You believe in such things?" A man who isn't part of the Noble Huntsmen, Derlam, father of four, said.
Other Huntsmen shushed him and whispered. "Hey, watch your mouth. That's the Chief."
"But he's talking about some fairytale character—"
"Vampires are real, so why can't sorcerers be too?" Sangfroid said.
They all went quiet, pondering thoughtfully.
"Er... it's still a different thing, Chief." Asver butter in, rubbing his head. "We know vampires are real even before Vladstin came, they are just uncommon. There's no proof that sorcerers exist...."
Sangfroid stared at him, eyes defiant. "There is."
This piqued everyone's interest.
"On the bottom of the Libitinus Mountains...." Sangfroid faltered. "My friend saw the figure of the Hermit when he was young."
"And this friend of yours, do you believe he is being truthful?" Rothfir asked.
"Yes." Sangfroid answered firmly.
The Noble Huntsmen reconsidered because their chief sound so sure, rubbing their grimy chins and bloody foreheads.
"Then.... Let us say the Hermit does exist." Zenon said. "What will you wish for?"
"I want to wish for him...." Sangfroid looked at his empty quiver, coming to a silent conclusion.
"... to bring Vladstin back to life as a human."
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