Though the demons had momentarily withdrawn, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t return. And she wanted to be ready for whatever they encountered in the next room.
The silence was broken by Ophelia crying out in alarm. The young woman groped around on her belt before her gaze snapped over to the door where Raz had disappeared. “That jerk stole my sword!”
“Are you sure?”
Ophelia nodded her head vigorously. “When he bumped into me, he must have taken it. I’m going to get it back!”
Piper sprinted forward, intercepting her friend. While Raz had said the demons were leaving, who knew how long that took? The room beyond the door could still be overflowing with creatures birthed from nightmares. There was no way she was letting Ophelia go in there. “Realistically, why would he steal your sword? Are you sure you didn’t drop it?”
“What, am I a mind reader or something?” Ophelia snapped. “This whole thing was probably just so he could steal my angel blade. Now let me go!”
“He saved us from the demons,” Piper pointed out as she held her friend back. “And even if you caught up with him, what would you do? The demons were afraid of him. Demons. It’s not like we could force him to give it back.”
Lukas nodded his head in agreement. “Regardless of what he said, I believe he belongs to one of the religious hosts. They are tasked with hunting down heretic casters from the ascendant realms. He may even have been a grandmaster. There’s no way we could compel him to do anything.”
“I want my sword back!” Ophelia shouted, hands curling up into fists at her side. “I was going to get a warrior class for sure with that thing.”
“We’ll get you another sword,” Piper said quickly. “Right now, we need to get moving. And you heard the knight. There’s a vampire on our trail.”
She then turned to Lukas. “Is there a place where we could make a stand against a vampire? Somewhere where I would have an advantage with my bow?”
The dark-haired young man scratched his head as he frowned. “Beyond this room is a catwalk with a great portal beneath it. Perhaps if you managed to knock your pursuer off…”
Piper didn’t like the idea of fighting on a bridge. There was as much chance of her being knocked off as the vampire. Plus, it wouldn’t give her much room to launch stealth attacks from her bow. She planned to abuse her new spell [Wraithskin] as much as possible. “Isn’t there anything better?”
“The rooms beyond are barren. There is no cover, though they are quite large.”
“That would be perfect,” she said. “I can use my illusions in there.”
Piper finished creating the last of her arrows and then set out at a jog across the room. She kept her pace slow to allow the others to keep up. Ophelia looked beyond exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes and terribly pale skin. Meanwhile, Lukas had a red ring around his neck where the demoness had choked him with a chain, and each breath wheezed in his throat. Neither of them was in any shape to run.
I wish I could use my healing abilities on others.
Every few paces, she glanced over her shoulder to make sure they weren’t being followed. The knight had mentioned an approaching vampire but hadn’t said which one. Though she couldn’t be sure, something in her gut told her that it was Ransford. But she knew that she was just as likely to be facing one of the other Crimson Guards.
Piper reached the obsidian door leading to the next room, and swung it open, revealing a room thrumming with power. A metal catwalk stretched across a domed area. As she stepped onto the walkway, she glanced over the railing to see the portal that Lukas had mentioned.
In the darkness far below, a shining magical gateway stretched across the width of the room. Its surface shimmered like a pond, and through it she could make out vistas from the Infernal Realm. At least she assumed it was the Infernal Realm. Each landscape possessed the same two suns she’d seen during her visit. But the locations it displayed varied wildly from what she’d experienced.
There were frozen lands covered in ice and what looked like insectoid demons marching across the tundra. Then the view switched to a fetid marsh, with frog-like creatures lurking in the foul water. She watched as a land of twisted iron appeared, with steel automata prowling the jagged wasteland. Finally, she glimpsed the blasted desert she’d visited during her awakening.
Piper wanted to stay and watch to see what other landscapes awaited her during her next visit, but she didn’t have time. The vampire could be right behind them. With a sigh, she hurried after the others, who had continued across the catwalk.
By the time she reached Ophelia and Lukas, they had almost reached the far door. Together, they hurried across the remaining stretch of the metal bridge before stopping in front of a demonic face carved into the obsidian. As she reached out to touch it, a familiar voice made her spin around in horror.
“My lovely,” Ransford called out across the cavernous room. He gripped his magical sword, but strangely wasn’t wearing his cloak or armor. His hair had only begun to grow back after being burned and had formed a layer of peach fuzz on his head. “I have come to take you home.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of the wretched man. Immediately, images from that terrible day on the farm came flooding back, making a cold sweat break out on her skin. For a second, it felt like she couldn’t breathe. Then her resolve hardened.
I won’t let him hurt anyone ever again.
“Go,” Piper shouted, pushing the door open. She popped her head into the room to make sure no demons awaited them on the far side before waving her companions through. “I’ll hold him off.”
Ophelia crossed her arms. “I'm not leaving you again.”
“I’ll catch up in a few minutes,” she said, forcing a smile. “I promise that I can handle him.”
Her friend’s expression wavered slightly.
“I can’t fight him properly with you around.”
“Fine,” Ophelia said. “But now you owe me two ice creams.”
“Deal.”
Piper nocked an arrow and moved to stand in the center of the catwalk. Then, she hurriedly brought up her character sheet. After her desperate battle against the demons, she had a lot of points to allocate. And not much time to do so.
Piper Ashcroft
Race: Shadeling, Level 36
Class: Deceiver (Epic), Level 32
Attributes
Strength – 125
Dexterity – 56
Stamina - 48
Vitality – 30
Perception – 3
Swiftness - 41
Magic - 132
Mana - 575
Mana Regeneration – 575
Free Attribute Points - 60
Racial Skills (5/10)
- Demonic Blood, Level 30
- Demonic Fury, Level 1
- Demonic Intellect, Level 8
- Tail Strike, Level 9
- Quick Claw, Level 10
Skills (10/10)
- Ambush Detection, Level 5
- Animal Caretaker, Level 5
- Archery, Level 13
- Cooking, Level 6
- Enduring Casting, Level 11
- Identify, Level 10
- Hunting, Level 3
- Running, Level 12
- Stick Wielder, Level 1
- Subterfuge, Level 2
Spells (4/10)
- False Face, Level 10
- Truth Shroud, Level 16
- Umbral Terror, Level 3
- Veil of Lies, Level 8
- Wraithskin, Level 1
Since she doubted that she’d be able to use her bow to take down Ransford—due to his skill that deflected arrows—she decided to focus on physical attributes.
Piper quickly placed 14 points into Dexterity to start, to bring it up to 70. Then she placed 12 into Stamina to make it a nice round 60. Finally, she placed 22 points into Swiftness, before dumping the last 12 into Perception. She didn’t think Ransford had any illusion spells, and she had [Ambush Detection] to warn of attacks, but she’d rather not be caught off guard.
With her points allocated, she waited for the Blood Lord to approach within bow range. No matter what, she was ending this today.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
She was going to make sure that Ransford didn’t leave this room alive.
Ransford stalked forward, his blade drinking in the room’s shadows. He felt uncomfortably exposed without his armor; the foolish duke having stripped him of it after Justina staggered back into camp. The ancient whore had immediately started throwing around wild accusations that he’d tried to murder her on the mountain.
Why can’t the duke see that I’m the victim here? He thought to himself. I’m the one who had to endure a disloyal bitch in my Crimson Guard.
His actions toward Justina had been nothing more than punishing a disobedient servant. If anything, the duke should have been happy with him for trying to get rid of the bitch. Their lives would all be much better without her around.
How Justina had survived the plunge, he hadn’t the faintest idea. The shaft into the mountain must have been at least a kilometer deep. And he’d stripped her of any blood she’d had on her person. She should have splattered at the bottom like a rotten tomato thrown against a breastplate.
Then a terrible thought occurred to him. Justina must have possessed a hidden reserve of blood.
Ransford snarled as he realized what had happened. A disobedient bitch like Justina must always keep spare vials of blood on her person. She must have known that someday one of her superiors would tire of her insolence. She’d tricked him into pushing her down the shaft so she could go crying to the duke.
That bitch, he mentally seethed. I’m going to enjoy killing her when I’m done with the demon.
Taking a deep breath, he focused on the demoness standing at the far end of the catwalk. None of that mattered at the moment. Once he was done here, he could take his revenge on Justina and that troublesome peasant family.
Unsurprisingly, the duke and his men had been too cowardly to accompany him into the Black Pyramid. The advance scouts had reported a vast force of demons crowding the entrance. The bastard hadn’t even allowed him to wait until nightfall, so he could fight at his true potential.
Ransford had been forced into the Black Pyramid at spearpoint—a supreme indignity—and given a chance as a forlorn hope. If he returned with the demoness’s head, then all would be forgiven. However, if he failed, he would be publicly staked.
When he’d crept into the Black Pyramid, it had been eerily silent. The rooms had been vacant, aside from some demon corpses. If the demons had been here, they’d recently departed. He’d been relieved that nothing stood in his way of his mission to find Piper.
Not that he had any intention of killing the beautiful young girl. No, she was the ideal plaything for him. He’d cut off the head of the other disfigured peasant girl, add some horns from the dead demons, and then claim that she was their real quarry.
Recently, he’d come to realize that Piper truly was the perfect girl for him. Thanks to her illusions, she would remain forever young. And she could heal anytime he accidentally became a little too rough with her. Of course, he’d have to cut off her hands and feet to ensure she couldn’t escape. But after that unpleasantness was dealt with, she would give him centuries of delight; all without aging a day. She would look so lovely in the fancy dresses he kept back at his manor for his many young female friends.
Ransford licked his lips at the thought, a thrill of excitement shooting up his spine. Oh yes, he would capture this demoness. After she was immobilized somewhere safe, he would return to Duke Albrecht with the other girl’s head. Then, he would figure out a way to smuggle Piper back to his manor.
He barely reacted when the demoness disappeared from view behind one of her pathetic illusions. After fighting her on the farm, he knew all of her tricks. She would be stuck in the same position, most likely preparing to fire some arrows from that disgusting bow of hers. The girl may have fooled the others with her fake level, but he’d fought her in the past. She was pathetically weak.
Ransford activated [Sanguine Aegis] and prepared for the inevitable arrow speeding toward him. He wasn’t disappointed as a ribbon of blood shot out and deflected a missile over the side of the railing. He pretended to yawn as he marched forward.
“Is that all you have, my lovely? Just your old tricks?”
Another arrow was deflected away, and then another. This truly was pitiful. How had the Crimson Guard struggled to capture such a predictable creature? If the Duke had allowed him to go after the demoness, this all would have been over a long time ago.
Lunging forward, he drove his sword through the illusion. But he frowned as his blade struck nothing but air. He peered around the shimmering wall to find the far side empty. Where had the demoness disappeared to?
His thoughts were interrupted as a searing pain erupted in his side. He staggered away, holding his stomach as blood poured out of a deep wound. At first, he’d thought that an arrow had struck him, but [Sanguine Aegis] would never allow that to happen.
He glimpsed a blood-covered tail disappearing back into the illusion. Apparently, the lovely demoness had learned some new tricks. Not that they would work against him.
Ransford activated [Crimson Renewal] and his wound sealed shut. He would need to use his skill sparingly, as the duke had taken his void pouch. He had but a single vial of blood on his belt to heal himself after the battle.
Something raked the back of his leg, sending him to his knees. His eyes widened as he tried to stand up, but his muscles refused to obey. How deeply had the demoness cut him?
“Fight fairly!” he cried out. “Enough with your ridiculous illusions.”
But Piper didn’t answer him as he directed the last of the fresh blood in his veins to heal his leg. Staggering to his feet, he launched a series of strikes behind him. However, not a single blow landed.
He snarled again, swinging his sword around him in an attempt to keep the demoness at bay. The narrow catwalk should ensure she couldn’t approach too closely without being struck. All he needed was one lucky blow to end this fight.
I need to find a way to dispel her illusions. Why can’t I even hear her footsteps?
Ransford stood with his sword held in the guard position, while he strained to hear any sound. Something would give away the demoness’s position. And then he would strike. Her illusions couldn’t possibly be foolproof—not while she was moving around.
He staggered forward as something pierced his shoulder. Then he felt something tearing into his back. As he tried to spin around, his legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground. He desperately activated [Crimson Renewal], feeling his spine click back into place. How could Piper be strong enough to sever his spine with her claws?
As he used the last of the blood in his system, he grabbed the vial from his pouch and poured the contents into his mouth. Gulping down the blood, he directed it to heal his deep wounds. Any plan of capturing the demoness alive had vanished from his mind. She was turning out to be far too dangerous for that.
If he were going to survive, he needed to kill her fast. He was quickly running out of the ability to heal.
Ransford dropped his gaze to study his blood spatter on the floor. While she may be able to hide herself completely, she couldn’t hide the blood dripping from her claws. He noted that the crimson trail led directly to the railing of the catwalk a few paces away.
Pretending to head in the opposite direction, he took a few steps before spinning around and bringing down his sword with a mighty swing. The blade bit deeply into something meaty. Then, the illusion cloaking Piper shattered into motes of light, revealing his sword buried in her chest. The blade had sliced straight through her shoulder and rested slightly above her breast.
The demoness looked at him with a shocked expression on her face. Her clawed hands tried to heave the blade free, but he twisted it, making her cry out. A smile crept across his face as he watched her struggle to get free.
Ransford narrowly dodged a tail strike, feeling it whizz past his face. He let out a nervous chuckle as he applied force to his weapon and drove the demoness to her knees. From that position, she shouldn’t be able to reach him with her deadly tail.
“My lovely,” he sighed. “If only you had submitted to my will, we could have had centuries of fun. It’s such a shame that I have to kill such a beautiful young woman. However, all is not lost. Perhaps the duke can be persuaded to let me bring your friend back to my keep. For her own protection, you understand.
Piper raised her hand, her dark eyes boring into him. A trickle of dark blood leaked out of her plump, wonderful lips.
“Your pathetic illusions won’t help you now,” Ransford chuckled. “How will you disappear when you’re impaled on my sword?”
“I hope you see the worst things imaginable,” she gasped, blood bubbling up in her mouth.
Something hammered his mind, making him jerk back slightly. Then he heard the soft patter of footsteps on the catwalk behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted a group of young women marching toward him. And he knew everyone of their faces.
“No,” he cried out, stumbling back. “You’re all dead!”
He ripped his weapon free from Piper and brandished it at the mob of girls. “You can’t be here!”
As he spoke, the girls drew daggers and continued to advance on him. Now he could see the many cruelties he’d inflicted on them. The cuts, the bruises, and the tear streaks on their grimy faces.
“We’re going to take your manhood,” they whispered in unison, their voices ghostly and indistinct. “You’ll never touch one of us again.”
“No!” Ransford screamed. He turned to run, but his path was blocked by another group of young girls. He swung his sword, but the blade passed harmlessly through them. Were they ghosts come to exact revenge on him?
Ransford felt their tiny hands grabbing him, wrestling away his weapon. He tried to fight back, but they possessed impossible strength. He was pinned down on the walkway as two of them tugged down his pants while the others stood ready with their knives.
With a scream, he kicked with all his strength. His foot struck something solid, and the force launched him backward. As he soared over the edge of the catwalk, he twisted and caught the railing.
At that moment, the vision of all the girls he’d loved cracked slightly, and the voices faded away. He blinked in confusion before the reality struck him—he’d been bewitched by the cursed demoness. With a snarl, he started to climb back onto the catwalk when an arrow caught him in the throat. The impact made him lose his footing, and as he tumbled into the pit, he barely caught the edge of the catwalk.
Hanging there, his feet dangling in the air, he felt another arrow tear through his cheek. He desperately tried to activate [Crimson Renewal] but nothing happened. He was out of blood. His body screamed for air as he clung to the railing far above the shimmering portal.
Then he heard footsteps on the catwalk. He glanced up to see the demoness staggering toward him. Her tail rose behind her, taut and coiled like a serpent.
Ransford opened his mouth to plead for his life. He would offer her riches beyond her wildest dreams if she spared him. His eyes widened in horror as nothing came out except for a gurgle. The barbed tail descended, severing his fingers holding the walkway. Then he was falling, tumbling through the air before he struck the shining surface of a portal. A searing heat blasted his face before the darkness claimed him.
* * * *
Piper collapsed to the ground, her bow tumbling from her limp fingers, and she activated [Demonic Blood] to finish sealing her gaping wound. A terrible stinging sensation spread through her torso, and she felt her bones and skin knitting back together.
After a few seconds of healing, she’d exhausted the last of her mana. While she’d repaired the worst of her wound, it would take many more activations of the racial skill until she was completely restored.
Congratulations! You have slain a Vampire, Level 391.
A significant bonus to experience has been granted for slaying a higher-level creature.
Ding! Your race, Shadeling has reached Level 37.
….
Ding! Your race, Shadeling has reached Level 44.
Ding! Your class, Deceiver has reached Level 33.
…
Ding! Your class, Deceiver has reached Level 40.
Dragging herself over to the edge of the catwalk, she looked down at where Ransford had disappeared. After casting [Umbral Terror] on the Blood Lord, she hadn’t expected him to almost launch himself off the catwalk.
Luckily, his reaction to the spell had given her the chance to kill him. Based on his incoherent screams, whatever he had seen had terrified him beyond reason.
“That was cold,” Gorebark said. “You killed the bitey guy like a chump.”
“Are you seriously complaining about me killing someone?” she wheezed. “And it’s not like he didn’t deserve it.” Trying to draw in a deep breath, she felt a stabbing pain in her chest. There was still something seriously wrong with her lungs. She would have to be careful until her mana regenerated, and she could cast [Demonic Blood] again.
“Why’d you take so long to kill him? You should have turned him into a pincushion while he was flopping around like a fish out of water.”
“I was a bit busy trying to get my arm to work,” she retorted. “You know, after taking a huge sword to my chest?”
With one last glance down at the portal, Piper used the railing to drag herself to her feet. She set out at an agonizingly slow pace in the direction the others had gone. They still had a pyramid to cross, and she wanted to hunt some game before the sun set.
Hopefully, this would be the last obstacle they encountered on their path to the Arissian Empire. Because she was beat up, exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to sleep for a week.