Hike — that's what the mistress of the house had called him — walked in my direction, but fortunately passed right by without noticing a thing. The woman, however, remained where she was, glancing toward my hiding spot now and then. I could literally feel her gaze burning through the wall. But before long, I heard the receding click of her heels with no small relief.

  Now I had to decide where to go first: after her, or after the man. Checking the sword at my belt, I chose to follow the giant. I couldn't say why, but that mountain of muscle scared me far less than the aristocratic lady.

  Despite the brute having disappeared from view, tracking him was child's play — he left a long trail of blood behind him. The house itself felt dead. Apart from those two, I didn't encounter a soul. During the day, the place had been crawling with servants; now they'd all vanished into thin air.

  The bloody trail led me to a heavy locked wooden door. I suspected it led to the basement. I could've easily cut through it using the black form of the elven sword, but the noise would carry, and the owners would immediately realize one of their "guests" was awake upon seeing the damage.

  Damn. I really was starting to feel like a horror movie protagonist — with one small caveat: which of us was the bigger monster?

  The thought of blood surfaced again. A little sip would be nice. Just a tiny one. The mere thought made my mouth water. I had to give myself a light slap to get my head back on track.

  I really did need to quit blood. It was gripping me too tightly. A couple of months ago, I couldn't have imagined genuinely craving someone's blood. At this rate, I could actually turn into a blood-sucking monster without even realizing it.

  "There must be another way in…" I muttered, scratching my head. I thought I'd seen something like a hatch outside when we were leading the horses to the stables.

  Moving carefully and keeping silent, I left the house without any problems.

  The hatch I'd remembered was easy to find, but there was a problem — a hefty padlock. Hoping it would magically disappear would be idiotic, so I had to take the risk and cut it.

  The elven blade went through steel like a knife through butter. I barely kept from whistling. I hadn't expected it to be that sharp. It took considerable effort, sure, but a regular sword could never have done this. I needed to guard this weapon with my life. Lucky it had fallen into my hands.

  I wonder… could I control elven armor too?

  But musings about upgrades would have to wait. Now was definitely not the time for daydreaming. First I'd scout what the basement actually looked like, then — if possible — take out Hike and this Viktor character, who should also be down here.

  It was dark below, but that was hardly a problem. Thanks to the vampire blood flowing through me, I could see reasonably well in the dark. Creature of the night, after all. Not as well as I could after drinking blood, but enough to make out objects.

  There was no ladder down, so getting back out this way would be tricky. The drop was about four meters. Maybe there'd been one before, but it was removed after the girl escaped from her captors.

  I descended carefully to avoid unnecessary noise, and pulled the hatch shut behind me. If one of the owners came outside and saw it hanging open, there'd be unwanted questions.

  Below was a fairly spacious room. Barrels stood off to the side — probably wine. Through the first door was a similar room, except this one was stacked with crates.

  Clearly not where I needed to be.

  At first glance, a perfectly ordinary cellar. But a closer look was warranted.

  I had to find another door, which turned up quickly at the opposite end of the room. And luckily, I didn't need to break it down — the handle turned easily, letting me through.

  The next room was brighter, thanks to several oil lamps. I walked a bit further and stopped when I noticed something resembling a prison cell on my left. I approached and saw the same girl I'd spotted from the window inside. I pulled the cell door — locked, though that was expected.

  I listened — she seemed to be breathing. Good. And I didn't think they'd lock a corpse in a cell.

  "Hey," I whispered, trying to rouse her, but got no response. Breaking the lock made no sense right now. If these psychopaths hadn't killed her yet, they wouldn't for a while longer, and freeing her would make her a liability. Two was harder to move than one.

  I was about to move on when I noticed an untouched plate of food in the corner of the cell. But what interested me more than the food was the cup of water. Reaching it wasn't hard, and I splashed it directly into the girl's face.

  This time it worked. She stirred, then reluctantly raised her head. Opening her eyes and seeing me, she was terrified at first — then hope sparked in her gaze.

  "Save me, I'm begging you!" She lunged at the bars, oblivious to her own nakedness. The blood on her forehead had already dried.

  "Easy, easy." I pressed a finger to my lips. "Keep it down."

  "Please, let me out!" she pleaded, though noticeably quieter.

  "I can't."

  "I beg you, in the name of all the gods! I don't want to die!"

  "And you won't," I said as calmly as possible, trying to instill confidence.

  "Let me out!"

  "I can't. I don't have the key." I didn't mention I could cut through the bars. "But I'll get you out when I find one. I'm from the Order of the Swallow — my comrades are upstairs. We'll handle this."

  "Really?!" Her eyes practically lit up.

  "Really." Obviously, I didn't tell her they were all unconscious. "Sit tight for now. You're safer in here."

  After a moment's thought, the girl nodded and even tried to cover herself with her hands.

  "How many of them are there?" I decided to clarify.

  "I don't know. I've seen three. But the one to fear most is the one they call Viktor. He's not human."

  "What is he?"

  "I don't know."

  "Alright, doesn't matter. We'll sort it out. Just stay quiet, don't draw attention. Let them think you're sleeping. By dawn, we'll have you free."

  "Thank you," she said, nearly in tears. But as I was about to leave, she suddenly grabbed the hem of my shirt. "Wait…"

  "What?"

  "My brother and sister should be somewhere down here. Please, find them." And there was such desperate pleading in her eyes that I simply couldn't refuse. The moment I promised, the girl sniffled, then retreated to the darkest, farthest corner of the cell. I pressed on.

  The adjacent rooms turned out to be more storage — barrels, crates, sacks of grain, and miscellaneous supplies. I did manage to find the door from the basement into the house proper. Still locked, so I headed back down. At one point I thought I'd covered everything, until I noticed something odd — drag marks on the ground near one of the cabinets.

  "No way," I muttered skeptically, approaching the cabinet and swinging it open to reveal a concealed passage leading downward.

  The moment I opened the "door," the enticing, intoxicating smell of blood hit my nostrils.

  Get a grip.

  Go down.

  The steep staircase had no railing, so I had to slow down or I'd tumble and break my neck. Some hero-rescuer that'd be.

  The descent brought me to a long, dark tunnel lit by sparse torches, some of which had gone out. After a moment's thought, I decided to follow it. I didn't have to walk far before I heard voices, so I immediately slowed down, moving as silently as possible.

  The tunnel ended fairly quickly, opening into a spacious chamber that looked less like a cave and more like some ancient, half-abandoned temple. It was circular, with columns separating the central area from the periphery. At its center stood something like an altar, with two figures beside it: the brute Hike and an ordinary-looking man. Ordinary except for being abnormally pale. But what bothered me most was what they were doing.

  A dead girl lay on the altar. The pale one — presumably Viktor — was rummaging through her slashed-open abdomen. The musclebound giant stood to the side, watching the process with complete indifference.

  "The Order of the Swallow," Viktor muttered irritably, extracting internal organs from the girl's opened belly like a proper pathologist. "That's the last thing we needed."

  "Don't worry, they're all asleep and will stay that way for a long time. We can slit their throats whenever we want."

  "No. I need them alive."

  Meanwhile, I'd made it into the chamber and quickly pressed against one of the columns. Lucky for me the lighting was poor, or I'd have been completely exposed. Their conversation continued:

  "There's a paladin and a mage among them," Hike said. "Lady de Zilar suggests selling them to Yundor."

  "What?" The pale man actually looked up from his work and stared at his companion in surprise. "To Yundor? Absolutely not! We can use them ourselves! I won't allow valuable resources to be squandered for a few gold coins!"

  "I believe that's not your decision to make." First I heard the click of heels, then from the tunnel I'd just come through emerged the mistress of the estate.

  "My lady." Viktor gave her a slightly dismissive bow, but she didn't seem to care.

  "Why is the passage open?" she asked the room, displeased.

  "I closed the basement door," the giant answered, confused.

  "I'm not talking about that door. I mean the hidden door leading here."

  "I closed that too."

  He had closed it. The one who hadn't was me. Oops. I'd left it open to ensure I had an escape route. Not good.

  "Sure about that?" she pressed.

  "No," Hike answered after a brief pause, and I exhaled with relief. "The outer door, definitely. But the temple one… I might have left it. My apologies, my lady."

  "Fine." She waved it off and approached the body. Without the slightest hesitation, she stuck a finger into the incision, then licked the blood off it with such relish that I wanted to be in her place.

  "Don't overindulge," Viktor said with displeasure.

  "I wouldn't dream of it," the woman answered, licking her lips. "I want to perform the rite."

  "Now?" The pale man was surprised.

  "Right now. Unless you have objections?"

  "No," he grimaced and headed to the far end of the chamber. Taking the opportunity, I shifted position and noticed another door where Viktor was going. He returned quickly, now holding a chalice encrusted with gemstones.

  He handed it to the woman, then rolled up his sleeves and plunged his arm nearly to the elbow into the corpse's abdomen, extracting the heart. The woman smiled at the sight and held out the chalice, into which Viktor began squeezing blood from the organ. The woman licked her lips watching this.

  Then the pale man did something strange: he used his teeth to tear open his own wrist and, tossing the heart aside, continued filling the chalice with his own blood. But before it reached the brim, his torn wrist had already healed. The girl hadn't lied — he really wasn't human.

  "Are you certain, my lady?" Viktor insisted. "I don't think this is the best time for the ritual. Wouldn't it be better to deal with the Order first?"

  "Today is the day of harvest, and I refuse to wait another month," the woman snorted.

  The mistress of the estate raised the chalice above her head and began reciting words in a language I couldn't understand. Since I couldn't comprehend it, it had to be something magical. And as if confirming my suspicions, the gemstones on the chalice began to glow. What happened next left me stunned. The temple shuddered and the altar shifted to the side. In its place, a statue rose from beneath the ground, making me whistle internally.

  The statue itself sent chills down my spine. It depicted a four-armed monster with an enormous maw bristling with fangs and four eyes. One hand gripped a human skull; another held a spear. The remaining hands were empty.

  "Begin!" the woman commanded, and the men immediately approached. She handed the chalice to Viktor first, then began removing her clothes, passing them to Hike. When de Zilar stood completely naked, the pale man returned the chalice.

  The woman took a sip. It wasn't very neat — blood stained her chin and dripped onto her chest — but she couldn't have cared less. Then she placed the chalice into one of the statue's empty hands.

  "Lord, on this night your faithful servants bring You offerings!" she proclaimed and began to dance. The men dropped to their knees and watched in silence, heads bowed.

  She whirled before it, chanting and contorting herself in the dance.

  The whole spectacle lasted about ten minutes. Eventually, the mistress of the estate sprawled before the statue, as if expecting something. Then something truly horrifying happened. The statue moved. It opened its fanged stone maw and poured the blood from the chalice into itself. The woman gazed up at this scene with an expression of pure reverence, still lying before the animated statue. Having drained the cup, the stone monster turned its gaze to the lady of the estate, leaned down, opened its mouth, and bathed her in smoke.

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  When it cleared, I couldn't believe my eyes — the woman had grown young. She now looked no older than twenty.

  "Thank you, Lord," she bowed, rising to her feet.

  "Not enough…" the statue rumbled. "More blood is needed. More rituals! More flesh and suffering!"

  "It will come," the rejuvenated de Zilar answered with a smile.

  The statue didn't respond, returning to its original pose. The "pressure" emanating from it diminished slightly. Apparently, this being couldn't stay conscious indefinitely.

  While Viktor and the woman argued about something, the brute Hike had vanished. One moment he'd been standing off to the side holding the lady's clothes, and after returning them — he'd evaporated. Damn! And the worst part was I hadn't noticed exactly when he'd disappeared.

  "What have we here?" came a voice from behind, and the next instant something sharp plunged into my shoulder, narrowly missing the collarbone.

  The damned Hike, armed with a butcher's cleaver, had materialized behind me in the finest tradition of horror movie slashers. The giant's face wore a satisfied grin that made my blood run cold. Meanwhile, de Zilar and Viktor had finished their squabble and were now watching the proceedings with mild curiosity.

  "Looks like we've got a little rat," the man said with a laugh, and I had to leap sideways, instinctively clutching the wound.

  "Seems to be one of the Order's recruits," the mistress of the estate snorted. "Strange that he's not asleep."

  "Probably just didn't eat anything," Viktor suggested.

  Hike, toying with his cleaver, kept advancing, and I was forced to retreat. Fortunately, the wound turned out to be shallow — no bone damage. But if that brute had put a little more force behind it and snapped my collarbone, things would've been very bad. I wasn't sure I could recover from that kind of injury right now.

  "Hike, don't play with him too long. We have work to do," the lady told him.

  Tch! Big mistake underestimating me.

  I took my hand off the wound, which had already slowed its bleeding significantly, and drew my sword. I didn't switch to black form yet — no point revealing all my cards early.

  "Ooo…" he drawled. "The baby decided to show his teeth."

  "Yep," I smirked back unpleasantly. "While chopping off your head in the process!"

  And I lunged, pouring everything into the charge. Hike was caught off guard by my speed, and that's exactly what saved him. Reflexively stepping backward, he must have stumbled — so instead of taking his head off, I only grazed his neck.

  But in the next instant I felt a light push against my back, and my body went limp. I couldn't hold my sword, couldn't even stand.

  "Blight take it," the brute spat angrily, getting to his feet and rubbing his neck. I was on the ground, desperately trying to move, but my body refused to obey.

  "When will it get through to you not to underestimate opponents?" de Zilar sighed and flipped me onto my back with her foot. I wanted nothing more than to strangle the trio, but I couldn't so much as twitch a finger. "Another inch and he'd have opened your throat. Lucky you got off with a scratch."

  Some kind of magic, apparently. I'd been right to fear that woman.

  "What did you do to him?" the brute asked, bewildered, looking between me and the woman.

  "Paralyzed him. Too feisty otherwise."

  "Doesn't matter. I'm faster," Viktor smirked, eyeing me with a predatory look. "Even if Hike had died, I'd have finished the kid."

  "What do we do with him?"

  "I'll drag him to the cutting room," Viktor said indifferently. "Hike, have a look around — there might be a couple more restless rats."

  "And check on the paladin and the mage while you're at it. Those two could very well rouse all their people, and then we'd have real trouble."

  After that, Viktor unceremoniously grabbed me by the leg and dragged me along, scooping up my sword on the way.

  "Well, well. Elven make. Didn't expect to find something like this on a runt like you."

  I wasn't paying attention to his commentary, focused instead on my own body. They'd apparently hit me with a paralysis spell, and I was frantically trying to remember what Günther's books had said about it. I'd been right not to trust that woman. And now the question was — how to break free.

  Remember, Max. Remember! What did that damn book say? Damn!

  Right! Got it! Something about the spell disrupting most motor nerves. But there was a way to counteract it. The effect was fairly short-lived, rarely exceeding a few hours, but if a mage found themselves in this situation, there were ways to accelerate recovery.

  I needed to actively circulate mana through my body, which would weaken the spell's hold.

  Viktor dragged me into the very room he'd gone to earlier for the chalice. More precisely, rooms. Behind the circular chamber were several connected spaces. The first thing that caught my eye was a young man hanging from a hook. His legs had already been removed and he'd been gutted like a pig.

  Despite the horrific sight, I detached from the world and concentrated on mana flow. The results came almost immediately — I could move my pinky. It required significant concentration, but it was definitely progress, so I doubled down on the internal energy work.

  The man wasn't the only corpse here. Several more bodies lay about, butchered like animals. Viktor, dragging me along, couldn't resist grabbing some offal from a table and stuffing it in his mouth.

  "Relax, kid," he smirked, and I saw rows of small, sharp teeth in his mouth. "Your fighting days are over. Just relax and enjoy the process."

  With that, Viktor placed me on a free table and, whistling a tune, picked up a knife from the adjacent surface.

  He truly wasn't human. Each finger ended in a long black claw, and his eyes were strange. Not human. Still whistling, he jabbed a finger into my shoulder, sinking it to the first knuckle, then licked the bloodied finger with satisfaction.

  But the instant he tasted it, his face contorted violently. He spat the blood out with an expression of having sampled something revolting.

  "What disgusting filth. What's wrong with your blood, kid? Huh?" He slapped my cheek. "Never tasted anything so vile. What are you?"

  I could technically speak but preferred to spend the time breaking free of the spell. I was close. My arms and legs could already move, though they still felt leaden — but that was a matter of time.

  "Answer me." He leaned over me, baring those sharp little teeth, and that's when I decided to act — clamping my teeth into his throat.

  He screamed in surprise and lurched back, spraying the floor with his own blood. But it was deceptive — whatever Viktor was, he wasn't easy to kill.

  "Your blood's garbage too," I replied, spitting out a chunk of his flesh. His blood really did taste rotten, if that was even possible. I nearly gagged, even though I'd previously drunk demon and elf blood — this was a first for a reaction like that.

  "Not bad," he said with a crooked smirk, pressing a hand to his torn neck. "But not enough to kill me."

  "Counter-question. What kind of creature are you?" I asked bluntly, trying to buy time. I could move now, but I didn't think I could win a straight fight with him yet.

  "Creature?" He grimaced, now regarding me with a degree of interest. "You're not human either. But if you're that curious — I'm a ghoul."

  "A corpse-eater." Now it was my turn to grimace. They existed in our world too — or had. In the Middle Ages, these things loved to feast on battlefields, but they'd all been wiped out over time. Occasionally, certain corpses were reborn as ghouls, but those were isolated cases, and they were usually killed within the first month.

  "If you were trying to insult me, you're doing a poor job," he bared his teeth.

  "I'm a vampire. A halfblood."

  "Then it makes sense why neither of us enjoyed the other's flesh. But that doesn't make us friends."

  "Definitely not," I agreed, already on my feet and wiping my bloody mouth with the back of my hand. Standing had been a struggle — I still felt crushing weakness — but the key was not showing it. Vampires were stronger than ghouls. You could say we were a higher branch of the same evolutionary tree. He wasn't stupid; he wouldn't act recklessly.

  "Interesting — what's a half-bloodsucker doing with the Order of the Swallow? Your kind usually gets impaled or burned by them. I see a convict's brand on your hand, which means you're not with them voluntarily. What would you say if I offered you a spot with us?"

  "Just like that?"

  "Well, we could kill each other," he noted fairly. "But why, when you're a 'dark creature' just like me? Wouldn't it be better to join forces?"

  "What are you proposing?" I feigned interest, feeling my strength returning. I just needed a bit more time. That's right, keep luring me to the dark side with your cookies, you damn corpse-muncher.

  "You saw the rite, right? Lord Amos gives us power that lets us transcend our limits. See how I look? If you know what ghouls are, you've got a rough idea how hideous most of them are. But thanks to the Lord, I can even go out in sunlight! Though it still hurts."

  Deranged fanatics worshipping a statue-god. And I'd thought that only happened in bad horror movies. I certainly never imagined I'd end up at the center of one.

  "So what do you say? Join us, or would you prefer to die alongside the 'livestock' we'll sacrifice to Lord Amos?"

  "Let me think…" I made a show of deliberating while calculating the best route to my sword, which Viktor had placed on a nearby table. As I recalled, there were two ways to kill a ghoul: burn it or behead it. "My answer is no."

  And I lunged for the sword. Viktor anticipated the move and materialized in front of me first. Without slowing down, I rammed my shoulder into his chest, knocking the damned corpse-muncher back. He wasn't timid, though — he managed to slash my stomach with his knife. A glancing cut, but still unpleasant. At least I reached the sword.

  The instant I grabbed the hilt, I had to jump back because Viktor was already up and slashing at me again. He was remarkably fast — without vampiric reflexes, I wouldn't have gotten off with just scratches.

  I managed to parry his next attack — thank god for the rock-throwing drills — but he kicked me square in the gut, sending me flying several meters. Getting up as easily as he did wasn't happening. I had to suppress the pain first, then rise.

  Only to nearly fall again from the ghoul's lightning-fast assault. At some point I caught his rhythm and counterattacked. He was ready and hoped to parry my strike with his little knife, but he hadn't accounted for one thing.

  At the last instant I switched the blade to black form and brought it down from above with everything I had. His weapon simply shattered, and my sword, unstoppable, continued through, taking a chunk of his torso along with an arm. It didn't kill him, of course, but it made him stagger and try to flee.

  For all the common folk's fear of these corpse-eaters, they were cowards by nature, and when threatened, they tried to cram themselves into the darkest corner available. True to form, realizing he was dealing with a dangerous opponent, he tried to bolt — but like hell I was letting him.

  I had to risk throwing my sword, otherwise the bastard would've escaped, and that could've caused a mountain of problems. Fortunately, my improvised "javelin" hit its mark, snapping the bone in his leg. Before he could recover, I sprinted over, yanked the weapon from the wound, and with one precise strike took the creature's head off.

  "Phew…" I exhaled in relief. "I should thank Katrina."

  If not for those hellish training sessions the paladin had put me through, I doubt this fight would've ended so well. My opponent had relied too heavily on superhuman reflexes — exactly as I usually did. And look where that got him.

  His severed head continued showing signs of life for a while, silently cursing me. But it was over. He had a couple of minutes left, so I kicked the head aside and surveyed the room.

  And immediately regretted it.

  So many temptations. The smell of blood made my head swim, clouding my thoughts. My stomach growled insistently, demanding a feast. If you thought about it, drinking a little blood wasn't such a terrible crime. These people were already dead. They didn't need it.

  I don't know how, but I managed to take control of myself and get out of that room as fast as I could. Once the blood scent stopped tickling my nose so aggressively, my thoughts cleared instantly. But exhaustion hit hard. The shoulder wound had started bleeding again — I must've aggravated it during the fight. Bad. It had only just begun to close.

  Emerging into the circular chamber, I once again faced the terrifying living statue. After standing in the doorway for a moment, I decided to circle around it.

  "HALT!" a non-human voice thundered when I'd nearly reached the door. Naturally, I didn't stop to ask what the animated rock wanted — I broke from a fast walk into a full sprint.

  But in the next instant, just as I was about to reach the door, an invisible force yanked me backward, and I slammed painfully against the stone floor near the stone god.

  "You killed one of my servants! You die!" And with that, the statue began to move, rising to its feet. Its movements were jerky, as if every action required tremendous effort.

  I hit the floor again, unable to stand in time because the thing's spear sailed overhead.

  Dodging the attack, I made another attempt at strategic retreat — I had absolutely no desire to fight this monster. And with that bulk, it couldn't fit through the exit anyway.

  When the passage to the stairs was nearly within reach, I had to abruptly change direction because the creature unexpectedly decided to breathe fire at me. Good thing I realized it was planning something and managed to duck behind a nearby column. But my cover didn't hold long — it exploded from the impact of its spear.

  Before I could recover, it pulled another trick, thrusting the human skull forward. Two beams shot from the empty eye sockets — laser-like. I couldn't fully dodge those. One beam grazed my arm, punching a small hole through it. At least it was the left, not the right.

  But I celebrated too soon — the next beam hit my leg, and I went tumbling across the floor. The monster didn't wait for me to stand, firing again. I couldn't dodge in time and did the only thing I could — blocked with the elven blade.

  And to my astonishment, the beam ricocheted back into Amos. The laser singed his face a bit and seemed to seriously anger him. He stopped shooting beams at me, trying his "hot" breath again instead. I had to limp behind another column.

  "I'll flay you alive! Gut you and devour you!" his voice boomed.

  CRASH! Another column obliterated by his spear. Getting hit by that was something I desperately wanted to avoid. I doubted even vampiric abilities could help me recover from a blow like that.

  After several sprints and destroyed columns, I started to realize the creature acted fairly predictably, and there were delays between fire blasts. Once that clicked, my anxiety evaporated. It was starting to feel like a game where the "boss" follows preset algorithms.

  Knowing full well I was being incredibly reckless, instead of running after the next fire blast, I charged forward. It tried to skewer me with the spear, but I dodged and brought the black-form sword crashing down on the stone arm that happened to be in my path.

  I'm not sure what I expected. Maybe that it would drop the spear, or that I'd at least wound Amos. Instead, I severed its hand at the wrist. Black blood immediately gushed in every direction, and the deity shrieked so loudly its temple literally shook.

  Weaponless, it resorted to the skull, firing the laser wildly in all directions. And that was its critical mistake. After the precise strike, I hadn't retreated. Hadn't hidden or tried to deflect the beams. No — I pressed the attack, leaping at its leg and hacking with everything I had.

  Now this giant didn't scare me one bit. There's a saying: if it bleeds, you can kill it. Since this "god" was bleeding, it was mortal. I doubt I could've pierced its "skin" with a normal weapon, but the elven blade in black form cut through its tough stone hide just fine.

  And with another roar, Amos crashed to the stone floor of his own temple. Probably not the outcome he'd envisioned when he decided to kill the annoying intruder. He was probably regretting not letting me escape up the stairs. I genuinely hadn't intended to fight something like him.

  While the stone god struggled to rise, I didn't hesitate to strike while he was down. Severed his other leg. Then hacked off the nasty skull-arm — because while I was working on the leg, he'd fired a couple more shots, though both missed.

  "Spare me…" he begged, and I actually felt a twinge of pity. This dark little deity had been living in his basement, receiving sacrifices, and then some human came along and killed him. But then I remembered the corpses in the next room, and the pity evaporated instantly. "I can give you much."

  "In exchange for blood? Thanks, but I'll pass!" I said, and with a vertical sword strike, split his stone skull in two. Then added a couple more for good measure. The chamber filled with oppressive silence.

  "No… NO-O-O-O!" the rejuvenated mistress of the estate screamed, almost desperately, seeing her dead Lord.

  "Shit…" I swore, breathing heavily. My left arm was badly wounded and barely responding to commands. And fighting the stone monstrosity had drained much of my remaining strength. Now I still had to deal with this witch.

  "Impossible…" Hike burst into the temple behind her. On one shoulder he carried Günther, and with the other hand he dragged one of Katrina's men — Esal, I think his name was. I really needed to learn all my comrades' names. Besides him, they'd also brought the girl I'd left in the cell. Her hands were bound, but she could walk on her own.

  Where she'd been crushed and frightened before, the moment her eyes fell on the altar with the dead woman, she went white and froze in place. That was probably the sister she'd mentioned.

  But in that moment, the killers had no interest in their shocked prisoner.

  "You… you killed him…" de Zilar said through tears and desperation, staring at me with crazed eyes.

  "I did," I confirmed tiredly. "And the corpse-eater too."

  I watched as the meaning of my words gradually sank in.

  "You! Hike — kill him! KILL HIM!" she screamed. The brute immediately dropped the unconscious prisoners and advanced on me. The rejuvenated witch decided to blast me with some spell. Except something unexpected happened.

  That same naked girl with bound hands, whom these people had been completely ignoring, suddenly sprang at the giant, snatched the knife from his belt, and before he could react, plunged it into Lady de Zilar's back.

  The woman recoiled in shock, staring at the prisoner in disbelief, and the girl, laughing maniacally, threw herself on top of her and began stabbing again and again.

  "My lady!" Hike shouted, but I was right there, driving my sword straight into his heart. I don't think he even understood what had happened.

  It was over. Though I remembered them mentioning someone who'd added the sleeping potion, but that could wait. Probably just a servant. The girl delivered maybe thirty stab wounds before exhausting herself and collapsing to the floor in tears beside the body.

  I didn't interfere. Her brother and sister were most likely dead.

  I wanted to offer her a hand, but the girl just lay on the floor, laughing and sobbing simultaneously. She was shaking violently, so I hurried to get her out of there.

  "Come on. Better get you out of here."

  Up on the first floor, I draped a tablecloth from the nearest table over her and sat her on a couch. Then I went back down and carried Günther and Esal upstairs, propping them nearby.

  I walked through the estate but found nothing suspicious. The warriors were sleeping in their places, though all of them had been thoroughly tied up. Apparently they'd been planning to move everyone to the basement, though there wasn't exactly room for that many prisoners.

  Katrina was in her room, also bound. And here I couldn't resist — I planted a kiss on her plump lips. The "princess" didn't wake from the kiss, but honestly, that was better. I cut her bonds, went back downstairs, and checked on the former prisoner. She was still on the couch, wrapped in the sheet, but now sleeping. I didn't disturb her. Instead, I walked out onto the porch and, driving my bloody sword into the ground before me, sat down to watch the rising sun.

  And here I was, barely alive, greeting another dawn.

  What a night. A corpse-eater, a roided-out psychopath, a witch, and to top it off, a stone deity with a fondness for demolishing his own temple. Tell anyone about this and they wouldn't believe you. Well, the basement was full of evidence.

  Complete insanity.

  Ugh.

  Damn, I'm so tired…