"Think you're in any condition to fight, little vampire?" the monster said, openly sneering.

  Vincent gritted his teeth.

  "I know exactly what you tried to do to her."

  "So what, little knight? Are you angry because I almost raped her, or because I almost fucked her before you could?"

  The monster smiled from ear to ear, pure evil as sharp as a knife. Vincent tightened his fists on his sword and shield.

  "You fucking bastard, you're not even going to deny it, are you? Figured as much."

  "No one in their right mind needs to deny it."

  "Fine, enough talk. Die."

  Ayame and Vincent lunged at him, one from each side. The sun weakened vampires, so the night was their ideal battlefield. However, in this warehouse, the moonlight couldn't reach her. Besides, she had been doused with holy water. Thinking about it, the fact that it was night was probably why she wasn't in worse shape. In any case, that monster was facing two people in a narrow space with his bare hands. His confidence, the casual way he had threatened them, was insane.

  Still, it turned out he wasn't far off. He was fast and very strong. Each of his punches shook her entire body and knocked the wind out of her lungs. She supposed it would be different if she had her armor, but it was still impressive. Not to mention the way he dodged Ayame's graceful and swift claw swipes. He might be just a thug, but he was, after all, an adult with real-world experience, experience fighting people, not just monsters. That counted for something, but not enough. He would make sure it wasn't enough, even if he had to die trying.

  In the end, they managed to penetrate the seemingly impenetrable defense: nothing more than a small cut on his neck. However, it was proof that they could do this. Vincent smiled, a savage grin. He had killed a few of the stupid guards outside without a tremor in his hand, but fuck, he was going to enjoy this.

  "And that's just the beginning," Vincent said. "You're going to bleed a lot more."

  "So much for you being able to take us on, even with your bare hands," Ayame taunted.

  "When this is over, you'll be begging me to kill you," Vincent said.

  He started shouting for guards, for help. His words were monstrous, almost, but he was talking to a monster, and he meant every word.

  Rapid footsteps on wood. Though late, the idiots were approaching the warehouse. Their chances of survival would drop considerably. He still remembered that the victory condition was to escape, not to kill everyone who got in their way. Indeed, he didn't want to kill them all, just that monster, for whom he still had no other name, nor did he need one.

  "Vincent, hold this thing off. I'll do what I can to block the door, buy us some time, okay?"

  Vincent nodded. This was no time to argue. Besides, he was painfully aware that Ayame would have assigned herself the task of holding off the Red Scar personally if she thought she was capable. She had drunk blood, but she wasn't at full strength yet. So now it was up to him. It all depended on him.

  Ayame ran to the door. Vincent faced the enemy.

  "You really think you can take me? All by yourself? Seriously?"

  It doesn't matter what I think, he thought, it's what I have to do.

  Then, to his surprise, the fucking bastard tore a steel bar from one of the shelves and held it like a sword.

  "I'm going to beat you to a pulp, you little punk, and then I'm going to rape your whore."

  "Now, this is personal."

  "It was personal the moment scum like you set foot in our room."

  They stepped forward, both at the same time, as if waiting for an invisible signal. The song of metal striking metal, sparks flying, filling the space between them.

  Ayame dragged a chest full of weapons against the door. It took more effort than she would be willing to admit to anyone. She had been pretending to be strong, to be brave, but with that small effort, her arms were trembling. She wished it was fear. No, it was just the physical strain.

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  "This won't hold for long," she had to admit.

  In the end, she slit her wrist on the first thing she found: the rusted metal edge of a shelf, gritting her teeth and swallowing the pain. Then, she manipulated the resulting blood, more than enough, filling the doorframe with it, reinforcing it. That wouldn't hold for long either, but it would buy them some time.

  The thugs could also get in from above, she supposed, or through some back door. She would have to deal with that too. The back door. Because there was nothing she could do about the roof. Well, not all of them would have the necessary skills to get up there in the first place.

  A watery gasp. Vincent's gasp. Ayame turned around in time to see him land hard, coughing, writhing on the floor. It sounded like he'd broken a rib.

  "I told you you couldn't take me. Not alone," the monster taunted from across the room.

  A particularly well-executed punch, like a hammer blow, had sent him flying ten meters back, or thereabouts. And it had definitely broken something. If he'd had his armor, maybe the blow wouldn't have even moved him. If he'd had his armor. But it was too late for regrets.

  "Don't be so smug," Vincent got to his feet, his teeth chattering with pure rage. "You're nothing but a loud-mouthed thug. An animal who only cares about his own pleasure."

  "Call it what you want."

  "You're the one who lost the right to call yourself human a long time ago."

  "I suppose that's true. But that won't stop me from killing you."

  "You're wrong. Someone like you can't kill me."

  The sword and the metal bar clashed again. And again. Until the piece of shit snapped in two. Both halves flew from his hand. So he had no armor beyond his own fists. Fine. They were just back where they started. Or almost. Because he didn't come at him with his bare hands. The monster lifted a bookshelf and threw it at him.

  Of course, I can't dodge that. No time, no space.

  He collapsed with the massive object still on top of him.

  "Vincent...!" Ayame cried out.

  Of course she did, right? Her. Him. They were the only ones here. Tara was outside. Waiting, maybe. Maybe taking out a few of the sons of bitches who were now pounding on the door incessantly, trying to break it down. In any case, this was on them. And more on him than on her, all things considered. He had to get up and fight, no matter how many times he was knocked down. There was too much at stake.

  The Red Scar jumped onto the bookshelf before Vincent could get it off him. As a result, it all dug into his ribs hard. Now, Vincent thought he'd try to finish him off while he was pinned to the ground, more or less helpless. But no. The huge son of a bitch ignored him and went for Ayame, who hadn't even fully recovered yet.

  "Get your fucking hands off me."

  Ayame's voice was hotter than any cry of rage. If he remembered correctly, it was the first time he'd ever seen her lose her composure like this, curse.

  "Get your fucking hands off her!" Vincent shouted and, with an unexpected surge of strength, he easily managed to throw the bookshelf off himself, despite the dozens and dozens of books, despite the metal.

  The monster punched Ayame in the face, knocking her to the ground. That was the last mistake of his life. Before he could hit her again, before he could knock her down, Vincent cut off his arm at the elbow. The arm he would have held a sword with, if he'd had one, of course. Then he drove his blade into his throat, deep, pushing with both hands.

  The abomination fell to his knees. He brought his hands to the wound as if that would change anything. As if he weren't already dead.

  "You were as easy to kill as the others," Vincent whispered. Then a twist of his hips, a two-handed blow, and he finished what he'd started.

  The head rolled across the floor, leaving a trail of blood.

  "Ayame..." Vincent said.

  "Shut up, it's not time to celebrate yet."

  After all, that pack of wild animals was still trying to break down the door. If they had heard this guy die, well, it would only get worse.

  "What do we do now?" Vincent said.

  "Follow me," Ayame replied immediately. "I wouldn't suggest the roof, if I were you. It's crawling with them. There are other options."

  That piqued his curiosity. But this was no time to talk, to question.

  "I'm with you."

  They approached one of the walls in the other room. And Ayame smashed it down with a single punch. Incredible, he thought. He knew vampires were strong, but to do that so easily in her weakened state. Incredible.

  "Run," Ayame said. "That's the only thing we can do at this point."

  Unfortunately, she was right. If they got caught, they were well and truly fucked. And there'd be no turning back.

  They ran out into the moonlight. Well, Vincent did. As for Ayame, it seemed she was being dragged along more like a package. That's how weak she was, even though the moon was out and now shining down on them.

  "Well, I depend on you too much anyway," Vincent said. "Let me do this for a change."

  Vincent carved a path through the thugs with his sword. Of course, since he was holding Ayame's hand with his other, he had returned the shield to his back. He didn't need it. Or rather, he shouldn't need it, if he did things right. The important thing here was that Tara and Ayame got out of this, not the dream that had driven him down the path to Runehaven Academy. Not the dream that had almost killed him more times than he could count in this both very short and very long period of time.

  He forced his way through the port toward the exit. Without stopping for even a moment, even when they appeared in his path, they were all pushed aside or cut in half in an instant, regardless of their weapons or their strange skills. They couldn't stop him for a second. After all, he wasn't looking for a fight. The victory condition was easy, at least in theory. It was about time something was easy.

  Another one fell screaming into the sea, another slumped against a wall, a red carpet spreading beneath his body. Another had no last words, only a choked cry. He'd like to credit only his determination and skill, but of course that wasn't true. What was saving him, to be honest, was the terrain. In this port, there was simply no way for more than three guys to attack him at once before he pushed them aside or cut them down. More came right away, of course, but by then he was gone. And of course, he had Tara's help. They were out now and close enough to the archer's position for her to help them.

  Everything went smoothly until it stopped.