Chereads / THE ARCANIST LEGACY:JOURNEY INTO THE MYSTIC ART / Chapter 1 - Chapter 1 : the bloody bastards

THE ARCANIST LEGACY:JOURNEY INTO THE MYSTIC ART

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Synopsis

Chapter 1 - Chapter 1 : the bloody bastards

A vampire silently pursued a woman through the deep, dark forest illuminated only by sporadic flashes of lightning in the stormy night.

 The trees were momentarily brought to life with bright white light, and both the predator and its victim were cast in an eerie glow.

 Just as the vampire was about to close in, another flash of lightning streaked across the sky and struck him, sending him reeling and granting his helpless victim just enough time to escape.

He let out a sinister chuckle as realization dawned on him; this wasn't a mere chance, it was fate. His menacing voice echoed through the forest, "My love, you may flee, but you cannot hide."

His predatory footsteps echoed through the forest, the sound of his hunger galvanizing him forward as he focused on his prey.

He could smell her fear, an overwhelming scent that filled his nostrils and saturated his tongue with a sweet tang like blood. The vampire's vision glazed over, and he salivated at the thought of tasting her life force.

The woman stumbled, tripping on a gnarled root and twisting her ankle painfully.

She tried to scramble away from the danger but she was too slow; he lunged forward and grasped her by the shoulders.

But before he could finish the deed, a thunderous crack split through the night air. A flash of lightning illuminated a shadowy figure clad in armor with windswept hair, standing between them.

He held up an enchanted sword, its light glinting off the blade in a wicked smirk directed towards the vampire.

"Who are you?" asked the pale man, panic streaking his words despite his attempt to appear fearless.

The hunter grinned wider as he raised his blade higher and declared "I am the hunter and you are my prey".

The vampire attempted to push past him, but the surge of electricity in the air rendered him powerless; with a swift strike of his sword, the hunter severed the vampire's head from its body.

The woman remained shaking on the ground, paralyzed by fear and pain from her twisted ankle.

After a moment of hesitation she finally reached out, grasping for the strength that was being offered to her -the steady hand of the hunter.

"Is it safe now? Can I go home?" she asked shakily as she looked up into his golden eyes brimming with kindness.

"Of course," the hunter replies with a reassuring smile. "But would you like for me to escort you?"

"Yes, please," she says gratefully.

while they walked through the dark forest, the woman tried to calm her racing heart.

She felt grateful to the hunter for saving her life, but it was clear that something was off about him.

He was tall and had a calculating look in his eye as he studied her. His body was tense, and she could sense his hesitation.

She cleared her throat and asked, "How did you find me? I mean… I didn't even know that vampire was living here until it attacked me." He gave her an almost smile, his yellow eyes sparking with an unspoken mystery.

"I tracked the vampire's movements," he replied in a low, confident voice. "I anticipated he would be around here, and I was fortunate enough to arrive just in time to save you.

" He glanced toward the town before continuing, "Was that individual one of your neighbors? Vampires tend to be like parasites."

The woman nodded, feeling slighted by his words but also strangely captivated by him.

"Are you one of those people who hunt supernatural creatures? What are they called… arcanists? I heard rumors about them before, but never met one until now."

The hunter raised an eyebrow at her question, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yes, I am a hunter of the supernatural; an arcanist as they call us."

The woman felt a chill as the mysterious hunter spoke, his voice calm and confident. She was captivated by the strength in his gaze and the way he seemed to effortlessly vanquish a vampire.

"Is it dangerous work?" she asked, her heart hammering with anticipation.

"Extremely," he said with a knowing smile, "but it is also fulfilling in its own way."

As he spoke, the woman couldn't shake the feeling that something about him was special. He exuded a power that held her enthralled.

Just then, he glanced up and said, "Looks like we've reached your town."

The woman's chest tightened as she gestured towards the small cottage at the edge of town. His gaze was intense and questioning as he looked her up and down.

"That's my home," she said quietly "I live alone."

Her words were met with a soft chuckle from her rescuer as he replied, "No need for repayment; I serve the greater good, and I'm glad I could help tonight."

Before she could protest, the arcanist spun around and sprinted away towards the edge of town, leaving her standing alone in shock.

As he made his way closer and closer to the vampire lair, he knew he had no choice but to push forward until he reached his destination.

He approached the elaborate front door marked with a conspicuous "V" etching, a clear sign of peril. Driven by curiosity and purpose, he pushed forward.

Despite the thickening sense of dread, he kept going. He had to find out what this place was; "Goddamnit," he muttered, "this is definitely a vampire lord cult lair".

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling the oppressive flow of dark magic through the walls. It was powerful and ancient - a reminder of how dangerous it was here.

But he didn't turn away.

He thought to himself, "I'm probably gonna get beat up but at least I'll get paid and get my milk." He stepped into the room, where flickering candles created eerie shapes on the walls.

Suddenly, a deep growl filled the air, paralyzing him with fear. Red eyes appeared in the darkness, gazing at him intently. Though his body was tense, he attempted to hide it with a joke.

"Oh, I didn't realize anyone else was here. I hope you don't mind my presence," he spoke, with a slight smile.

A throaty laugh echoed through the shadows followed by a hoarse voice, "On the contrary, arcanist, you're just in time.

What is your business here?" The voice belonged to a tall, imposing figure that seemed to glide towards him, fangs bared and claws primed for attack .

The vampire lord was tall and imposing. He wore a dark cloak that floated as he moved, giving him the appearance of a specter materializing as if from the shadows. His black hair was slicked back and his skin pale and ghastly.

The arcanist swallowed hard before replying, "Oh, nothing much really. Just stopping by to say hi and drink some tea with a vampire lord what you say stinky guy."

The arcanist's words hung in the air, thick with sarcasm. The vampire lord chuckled, amused by the arcanist's bravado. "I see you have a sense of humor, arcanist. I like that. But I'm afraid I don't have any tea." he said, his voice dripping "but i will get your blood as a snack"

The arcanist raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Well, that's too bad. I was really looking forward to having some tea with you," he said dryly. He took a step back, preparing for an attack, but still maintained his sarcastic facade.

"But if you insist on having my blood, I suppose I can spare a little bit for you. After all, I've got plenty to spare."

The vampire lord displayed his sharp incisors, piercing the arcanist with his gaze. "Speak mortal, what is your name so I may engrave it upon your tombstone?"

The arcanist laughed good-naturedly, ignoring the vampire lord's vain attempts to intimidate him. "I'm just a regular arcanist," he said, his eyes darting around the room in search of weaknesses. "Just passing through.

 Though if you insist on engraving my name into a tombstone, it would be 'Zellrid Atrevantus'."