"She tried to kill me multiple times," he admitted. "But eventually, we formed a sort of alliance." Maro raised an eyebrow. "An alliance with a vampire? That's certainly unconventional." Zellrid nodded, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
"She's not like the stories portray vampires to be. She's...different. I don't fully understand her yet, but I know that I can trust her."
Maro leaned back, deep in thought. "Interesting. And what about your arm? What happened there?" Zellrid's face froze for a moment as he remembered the pain of Serana's fangs piercing through his flesh. "She attacked me," he said slowly.
"But then something strange happened. An unknown energy engulfed me like a shield of flames, rescuing me from inevitable destruction." Maro leaned forward, clearly intrigued. "A shield of flames?" Zellrid nodded.
"It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I barely know where it came from or what it was, but it saved my life." Maro stroked his chin.
Thoughtfully. "There's certainly more to this vampire than meets the eye. I think we should keep a close eye on her." Zellrid nodded in agreement, still unable to shake off the memory of Serana's fangs sinking into his skin.
He couldn't deny the fact that he was drawn to her, despite the danger she posed.
As the two continued their discussion, Zellrid couldn't help but wonder what other secrets Serana could hide Out of nowhere, Zellrid noticed a single blue light.
He hurriedly told Maro to prepare for the worst, warning him that Zalobnyk usually attacks in large numbers and that they would both be in serious danger if they were caught.
Maro spoke, his voice a question: "Zalo what?" zellrid with a manner of immediateness, rushed to explain, "Zalobnyk! It's a creature that feeds on souls. Its master, known as the sorroweaver, feeds on the souls that the zalo catches. "In addition, he mutilates his victim's emotions."
Maro's face paled as he grabbed his sword. "We must be careful then. Do you know where it is?" zellrid shouted, "Hand me back the sword I gave you earlier; be quick!" Maro handed Zellrid the sword, and Zellrid said, "I will wake up Serana so she can protect the soldiers and the camp.
" Maro has watched nervously since Zellrid entered the tent and kneeled beside Serana, shaking her shoulder gently.
Her red eyes fluttered open, filled with confusion and fear at being woken up so suddenly. Zellrid spoke softly to her, his words carrying an air of urgency.
"Serana, I need your help. There's a creature called Zalobnyk that's coming, and it's dangerous. We need you to protect the soldiers and the camp."
Serana quickly got up from her bed and followed Zellrid outside the tent, where Maro was waiting for them.
They could see the blue light growing brighter in the distance shortly after they stepped out. Zellrid and Maro took up defensive positions, while Serana stood in the center, her eyes scanning the area.
The blue light grew brighter and brighter until it was blinding, and the sound of whistling filled the air. Unexpectedly, more than fifty Zalobnyk appeared, and Serana bared her sharp fangs; her eyes were redder than the blood itself.
Maro noticed this and said to Zellrid, "I hope you know what you are doing. She is more frightening than any zalobnyk." Zellrid answered, "Oh yeah, wait until you see the Sorrowweaver Maro. I will draw them out of the camp. and Serana can protect them, okay?"
Serana nodded, watching Zellrid speed toward the monsters with one arm. She questioned how he could possibly protect himself with merely one hand. Maro jolted his soldiers awake with an angry tone. "Rise up, you scoundrels! We have monsters to fight; we can't rely on a woman and a defenseless Arcanist.
"While the soldiers scrambled to their feet,
Serana studied their faces, noticing the fear etched in every one of them. She knew that they were not ready for this battle, but that didn't matter now. They needed her protection, and she wouldn't let them down.
The Zalobnyk were coming closer, and Zellrid shouted for them to follow him, grumbling under his breath, "I can't stand these creatures; fallow me, Zaloshit. I remember the grandmaster talking about
"Zalobnyk—a creature who towered over the land with its bony frame; it glowed with blue light, and veins illuminated from within its skin. Its face was distorted and twisted, with eyes aglow in an azure sheen, while its robes moved like underwater seaweed.
As it came closer, melodic whispers were trapping those nearby. The dazzling blue glow of this spectral being lures people in and leads them toward misery and despair; if one is caught by it, the last thing they will hear is a faint whisper. Ugh, I feel like I'm talking just like him now."
Serana observed the way Zellrid took the Zalobnyk away from their encampment, along with
Maro followed along after shouting, "I got you, Zellrid!"
Serana sat by while Zellrid and Maro led the Zalobnyk deep into the woods. She knew that Zellrid was a skilled arcanist, but she couldn't help but worry about his one arm.
However, it seemed that he wasn't letting his injury hold him back as he deftly dodged Zalobnyk's attacks with his lightning-fast movements. Maro was no slouch either, as he used his swordsmanship to deliver deadly strikes at the creatures.
Although they continued to fight, Serana's attention was drawn to the soldiers behind her. They were trembling with fear, and some of them had even dropped their weapons. Serana knew that they were not prepared for this kind of battle, but she couldn't let them break down now.
She turned around to face them and shouted, "Stand your ground! Fight with honor or die with shame!"
The soldiers looked at Serana, and for a moment, their fear seemed to subside as they saw the determination in her eyes. They picked up their weapons and prepared to face the Zalobnyk crowd.
Serana knew she had to do something to lend them a hand. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and felt the power within her as it coursed through her veins like a rushing river. When she opened her eyes again, a burning light enveloped her while blood magick sparked around her fingertips.
She raised her hands and released a searing beam of blood toward the Zalobnyk, forcing them to scream in discomfort and fear.
At this point, Zellrid and Maro took advantage of the diversion and kept fighting. Zellrid declared to Maro, "The one who kills more will be the victor".
Maro accepted the challenge, although he wasn't in much of a joking mood. They both began slaying the group of Zalobnyk, Maro with his sword, and Zellrid with fast thrusts and lightning-quick strikes.
Once Zellrid had slain the last of the Zalobnyk, he warned Maro that the true challenge was yet to come: the Sorrowweaver It was then that they heard the mournful wails and cries coming from deep within the forest.
The sound filled their hearts with a cold dread, as they knew what lay ahead. With determination etched on their faces, they continued their journey into the heart of the forest.
While going deeper into the woods, the air grew thick with the stench of decay and the foreboding feeling of impending danger. Zellrid and Maro clutched their weapons tightly, ready for whatever lay ahead.
In a flash, a figure emerged from the darkness ahead. The Sorrowweaver stood in the distance. Its body was burnt and charred, and its white hair was matted and tangled with bits and pieces of flesh.
His white hair falls over his shoulders in long, uneven strands, like a stream of scarlet veins.
The mournful creature stood before them, its body a cross-collaboration of bodies fused together, its gigantic eyes a piercing blue, and its head held high. Its body was tall and thin, standing a good twenty feet tall, with long and bony ends ending in long fingers. The creature exuded a cold, unearthly aura, a godliness that made the two feel as if they were nothing but bugs. "I can't believe it," Maro said to Zellrid.
"You weren't joking around. "That ugly thing is huge."
Zellrid shook his head. "It's not as bad as it seems. He's still young."
"What are his weaknesses?" Maro folded his arms
Zellrid explained. "Unfortunately, he doesn't have any."
The two friends were thrown into a moment of tension, not sure how to go on now that the conversation had become so unpleasant. The Sorroweaver said to them, "You are too weak to defeat us; we are one." The flesh screamed in terror. "
zellrid replied "We! Is your mother joining us?" Maro gave Zellrid a stern look. "Now is certainly not the time for jokes, Zellrid." Zellrid raised his eyebrow.
"I'm just trying to lighten the mood here," he said. "We're facing a giant monster that feeds on sadness, and I thought a little humor would help us all." Maro shook his head. "This isn't funny, Zellrid. Look at that thing. It's horrifying."
The Sorroweaver let out a deafening roar, causing the ground to shake beneath their feet. "You cannot defeat us," it repeated. Maro inhaled deeply and took a step forward. "We may not be able to take you on by our lonesome, but we have something that you don't—an insane one-armed arcanist who's ready for this fight."