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"Let this be the proof," Gaven said, prepared. He pulled out a blood-soaked package from his combat backpack. Inside was a Dwarves Vampire Mage.
His eyes were half-closed, void of the sanguine hue they once held, replaced by an endless emptiness. His expression was extremely distorted, frozen in a mix of terror and disbelief, as if he couldn't fathom his own death.
Then, Gaven took out two short swords of Dwarves Elf style from his combat backpack and said, "We blasted the head of that warrior to smithereens, unable to decapitate him, but we have his weapons in our possession."
"No need, no need, we believe you," the Thorn Spirit Leader said, unable to hide the ecstasy on his face. "We were just a bit incredulous. After all, the trouble and savagery of vampires are well known—a single one is a big enough menace, let alone three together. We just didn't expect that you, lords, would be even stronger."
