Recently, there had been a surge of monster activity around the region.
Villages in the neighboring territories sent urgent pleas for help, describing terrifying raids and skirmishes by high-class monsters.
Fear hung in the air like an oppressive fog, gripping the hearts of many and spreading like a wildfire. The once-orderly dedicated zones, managed by adventurers, had descended into chaos.
The adventurers, once proud defenders of the realm, now found themselves outmatched and overwhelmed. Many confessed to being unprepared for the sheer power and cunning of these creatures.
The Adventurers Guild, headquartered in Carmine Village, became the epicenter of the region's desperate efforts to respond. Rae's father, Baron Harold, had been summoned to a critical meeting to address the crisis. The attacks were concentrated in his territory, and refugees from his undeveloped regions began pouring into Carmine, seeking sanctuary.
The influx of displaced people strained the town's resources to their breaking point. What had been a quiet village was now teeming with frightened faces. The population had doubled—perhaps even tripled—overnight. Food supplies dwindled rapidly, forcing strict rationing. Lines for rations stretched endlessly, with tension bubbling just below the surface. Arguments broke out over the smallest slights, and murmurs of discontent grew louder. "Why should we feed outsiders?" some locals protested, their voices rising in anger. Others added fuel to the fire, accusing the kingdom of neglecting its own citizens to prioritize refugees. The final blow to any semblance of peace came with disturbing reports of crimes against the non-human races among the refugees, deepening the divisions.
Baron Harold acted swiftly, his calm authority quelling the immediate chaos. To prevent outright violence, he divided the city into two zones: one for the original residents and another for the refugees. It was a temporary solution, born of necessity rather than fairness, but it bought him precious time to focus on the true threat: the monsters.
Meanwhile, the Adventurers Guild rallied its forces. Smaller parties were consolidated into a unified coalition, and reinforcements were called from neighboring guilds. The effort drew volunteers from the Bermone Kingdom, all eager to stand against the monstrous tide. The town buzzed with activity as the adventurers sharpened their weapons, tested their magic, and trained for the battle ahead. Despite the somber atmosphere, there was a sense of purpose that united them. Watching so many people come together stirred something unexpected in Rae. It wasn't fear that filled her—it was excitement.
While others spoke of the monsters in hushed, terrified tones, Rae's curiosity burned brightly. She wanted to see these beings that inspired such dread, to face them herself. But beneath her excitement was a thread of worry. If the adventurers failed, her home and everyone she loved would be at the mercy of these monsters.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast the village in hues of orange and red, Rae approached her father in his study. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and ink, a place where plans were being drawn to protect the territory.
"Dad, I want to become an adventurer and fight alongside you against the monsters," Rae declared, her voice steady despite her racing heart.
Baron Harold froze, his pen hovering mid-air before he turned to face his nine-year-old daughter. His sharp gaze softened momentarily before narrowing in disbelief. "What? Are you out of your mind, Rae? Do you know how dangerous this is? Adventurers risk their lives daily, and many don't come back. I won't let you throw yourself into a battlefield just because you think it's exciting."
"What if I prove I can handle it?" Rae challenged, her small frame standing tall against his imposing presence.
Harold's brow furrowed, a mixture of concern and irritation flashing across his face. "And how do you intend to do that?"
"By challenging you to a duel," Rae said without hesitation. "If I win, I get to join the adventurers and fight. If I lose, I'll stay here and train until I'm old enough to enroll in the Royal Academy."
For a moment, Harold stared at his daughter, his expression unreadable. Then, to Rae's surprise, he let out a dry laugh. "You've grown cocky, haven't you? Just because Edward has been teaching you combat and Merle has been giving you magic lessons doesn't mean you can beat me. I was one of the best Knight Captains in my time."
"If that's what you believe," Rae replied, her tone unwavering, "then you won't mind accepting the duel."
Harold's eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. "Fine. You're on. But don't expect me to go easy on you."
The duel was set for the following day on the open training fields used by the adventurers. The usual grounds at the mansion were deemed too small and fragile for the intensity of the battle Harold anticipated. The field stretched wide, surrounded by rolling hills and sparse trees, the perfect arena for their clash. The crowd, though small, was notable: Edward, Merle, Crystal, Trina, and a handful of adventurers gathered to watch. Edward stood as the referee, his piercing gaze darting between the two combatants.
Harold stood tall, his longsword gleaming in the sunlight. Every movement exuded precision and confidence, his stance a testament to years of experience. In contrast, Rae looked almost comical with her twin daggers and petite stature. But her expression betrayed no fear, only determination.
Edward raised his hand, the tension palpable. "Begin!"
Harold motioned for Rae to attack first, a small smirk playing on his lips. He was taunting her, daring her to make the first move. Rae tightened her grip on her daggers, her mind racing. She dashed forward, her footsteps light and quick. As her dagger clashed against his sword, she activated a wind magic circle, unleashing a sudden blast of air. The force pushed Harold's arms wide, exposing his face for a fleeting moment.
Seizing the opportunity, Rae spun mid-air, aiming a kick at Harold's head. But his reflexes were razor-sharp. He dodged effortlessly and countered with a spinning kick of his own. The impact sent Rae sprawling across the field, the breath knocked out of her. She rolled to her feet, using wind magic to steady herself. Harold's smirk deepened. "Impressive. But don't think you'll catch me off guard again."
His speed increased, his movements blurring as he unleashed a flurry of strikes. Rae found herself overwhelmed, her daggers barely deflecting his relentless attacks. Panic clawed at her. How could she win if she couldn't even keep up?
Then, a calm voice echoed in her mind. Liza, her magical companion, spoke. "Analyzing… Attack patterns identified. Increasing thought processing speed by thirty percent."
Suddenly, the world slowed. Rae could see every detail: the angle of Harold's sword, the subtle shifts in his stance. But even with her newfound clarity, her body lagged behind. "Liza, it's not enough," she thought desperately.
"Then it's time to use magic," Liza replied.
Rae nodded, activating another wind magic circle. A whirlwind erupted around her, forcing Harold to step back. Taking advantage of the moment, Rae set traps across the battlefield—pitfalls and eruption spells hidden beneath the ground. As the whirlwind subsided, Harold reappeared in flashes, his famed "Flash Step" skill making him a blur. But Rae was ready. She unleashed a wide-area spell of her own creation: Seismic Eruption.
The ground cracked and glowed, molten lava bursting forth in ripples. The force sent Harold flying, his sword slipping from his grasp. When the dust settled, the training field was a scorched ruin, and Harold lay unconscious amidst the wreckage.
Edward stepped forward, his voice vocal. "The winner is Rae!"
The crowd's cheers were distant, like echoes in a canyon, as Rae knelt beside her father. Harold lay pale and unmoving, his breaths shallow, his tunic soaked with blood. Guilt twisted Rae's stomach like a knife. How had it come to this? She clenched her fists, the tension radiating through her whole body.
Crystal hovered over Harold, her hands glowing with the blue ethereal shimmer of water divine arts. Beads of moisture swirled around his wounds, but her magic couldn't penetrate the jagged, necrotic edges of the injuries. Frustration flashed across her face. "It's not working," she admitted, her voice tight with desperation. "This wound... it's resisting me."
Merle stepped forward, her face full with grim urgency. "Only light magic can counteract damage of this nature. But Rae..." She hesitated, her gaze softening. "You're a vampire now. Light magic could harm you. You might—"
Rae cut her off, her voice steady but fierce. "It doesn't matter. He's my father. I'll do it."
Her mother's hand darted out to grab her wrist. "Rae, no. There has to be another way. You could hurt yourself, or worse—"
Rae shook her head, her crimson eyes locking onto her mother's with unwavering resolve. "I won't let him die. No matter what it takes."
Kneeling beside Harold, she took a shaky breath, steeling herself. She placed trembling hands over his chest, her palms brushing the torn fabric and warm blood. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to focus.
Okay, think. How do I make this work?
She visualized her mana circuits—fragile, new, but a bit familiar after her transformation into a vampire. Normally, she would use predetermined symbols to cast spells, but Rae knew this needed something entirely unique. She concentrated, picturing her intention as clearly as she could.
In her mind, she crafted the first symbol: purity, a radiant spiral that would purify Harold's wounds and ward off any infection. Next, she imagined rejuvenation, an intricate starburst to energize his cells, urging them to knit back together. Finally, she added restoration, a circular glyph, its edges glowing with threads of memory. It would guide the cells to return Harold's body to its uninjured state, using the memory embedded in his very essence.
Her hands began to glow faintly, golden light gathering at her fingertips. When she opened her eyes, the symbols she had imagined materialized, hovering over Harold's wounds like ghostly constellations. The magical circles shimmered in soft gold and white, their light dancing across his pale skin.
As Rae channeled the spell, searing pain lanced through her body. She gasped, her vision swimming with bright spots. Her skin prickled as though it were being pierced by thousands of tiny needles, and her head grew dizzy, her vampiric instincts roaring in protest against the light magic coursing through her veins.
A sharp hiss escaped her lips as her skin darkened, faint scorch marks forming where the magic flowed. The pain clawed deeper, threatening to overwhelm her, but then, something shifted. Her vampiric body, at first rejecting the light magic, began to adapt. The burn on her skin lessened, fading as her cells seemed to recognize and adjust to the foreign energy.
Her heartbeat slowed, steadying, and the pricking sensation dulled. The pain became a faint hum, as if her body had struck a precarious balance between her vampiric nature and the divine magic she wielded.
"Rae, stop!" her mother cried, horror etched across her face.
But Rae grit her teeth, forcing the magic to flow. Slowly, Harold's wounds began to close, the jagged edges knitting together like threads being pulled taut. The deep gashes faded into faint scars, and his labored breathing grew steadier.
When the spell finished, the light dissipated, and Rae slumped to the ground, her energy spent. Her entire body trembled from exhaustion, and her vision blurred. She barely registered the warmth of Harold's hand brushing hers.
He opened his eyes, his voice a whisper but filled with pride. "You've proven yourself, Rae," he murmured, his lips curving into a weak smile. "You're ready."
Rae smiled faintly through her exhaustion, relief washing over her like a wave.
The symbols she had created still glimmered faintly in her mind, a testament to the power she had summoned. She made a mental note of how they had worked together: the spiral of purity, the starburst of rejuvenation, the circle of restoration. Each symbol had aligned perfectly, forming a seamless circuit of healing.
As she rested on the bloodstained ground, the adrenaline subsiding, Rae felt a quiet sense of accomplishment. She had saved her father..