I slung two of them over my shoulders — which earned a look of respect from the recruit helping me — and trudged heavily toward the manor. The kid threw the last one over his shoulder and trailed behind. We walked in silence for the first few minutes, but about halfway there, he finally cracked.

  "What's your name?"

  "Maximilian," I answered shortly, adjusting the big guy with the broken jaw, who kept trying to slide off. "Max is fine."

  "I'm Rol. Rol Kerish. Listen, I'm sorry. For all of us… though I'm not sure Unar will be apologizing when he comes to."

  "Unar — you mean this one?" I shifted my right shoulder, where the worst-off of the bunch was draped.

  "Yeah, him. He started the whole thing…" the kid began making excuses. "I was against it."

  "Sure you were," I scoffed.

  "You don't believe me?"

  Usually in situations like these, the guy who claims he was against it is the main instigator. And yet — I actually believed him. If only because he was the only one standing there with a sour face while they were kicking Gera around. And the girl hadn't taken a single hit from him.

  But still… he'd stood there and watched when he could've done something.

  "Forget it," I said, swallowing my irritation. I'd be serving alongside these guys, and burning bridges from the start wasn't smart. Besides, the five of them had already gotten theirs. Some more than others.

  Günther was already asleep when we hauled the wounded to him. The disgruntled mage muttered something unintelligible and set about examining the recruits. Two he immediately dismissed — they were fine. A little rest and they'd be good as new. Unar, though, was a different story. The punch had landed beautifully. I'd genuinely broken his jaw and given his brain a solid concussion on top of it.

  The Order's mage did some work on the kid's jaw, cast a healing spell, and said it would fully mend in a couple of days. No solid food until then. Porridge only.

  Satisfied that everyone would survive, I left the wounded behind and headed to my little closet. When I walked in, Gera was already there on one of the mattresses. She didn't even glance in my direction. Like I didn't exist.

  So much for standing up for ladies…

  Whatever. Screw it.

  I collapsed onto the free bed and was out almost instantly. But the dreams were strange. First came Selina. The girl was in tears, begging me to forgive her for the terrible betrayal, but I wouldn't. I simply turned and walked away, deciding not to dirty my hands. Then Katrina appeared, wearing a light green dress that matched her beautiful emerald eyes.

  I don't remember what we talked about, but the dream ended with us bathing together.

  The waking, however, was considerably less pleasant than the sight of a naked paladin. A sharp kick slammed into my side, and when I opened my eyes, water poured onto my face.

  "Pffft! What the hell?!" I sputtered.

  "Waking you up," Gera said, completely deadpan.

  "That's more like torture!"

  But the girl didn't bother responding. She just turned and headed for the door. At the threshold, she paused for a moment and said:

  "Reveille is at dawn. They're waiting for us."

  With that, she left me glaring at her back. What a piece of work. Would it kill her to wake someone up like a normal human being? Clearly nobody had ever taught her the word "courtesy."

  I spat in annoyance, yanked on my pants and shirt, and followed her out. They were indeed already waiting for us downstairs, and I even managed to catch heat for being slow.

  "Think because you're squires you can show up late? No breakfast for either of you today," said the warrior who, I think, was called Torig. Günther had given me a brief rundown of Katrina's squad members during last night's drinks, but I could barely remember half. "Fall in — but first, five strikes with a rod for yesterday. Lady Katrina's orders."

  "Damn…"

  Everyone was present, including Unar with the lower half of his face wrapped in bandages, glaring daggers at me. During my punishment, they were probably grinning with satisfaction.

  The five rod strikes turned out to be nothing — especially given my current state. But nobody gave me a moment to recover. Straight into formation with the rest.

  Torig turned out to be a real sadist. He made us run fifty laps around the grounds — not just running, but carrying sacks stuffed with rocks to simulate the weight of armor. On top of that, other squad members joined the "trainer" and started placing bets on which recruit would last the longest.

  That turned out to be me, though even I was wrecked by the end. Surprisingly, my main rival was Gera. The girl could barely breathe, but she kept running, refusing to give in. Unar, who I'd pegged as the main competition early on, gassed out embarrassingly fast. Almost felt bad. So big and tough, and zero endurance.

  My reward was respectful looks from the soldiers and some jealousy from the other recruits. Yeah… popularity isn't always fun.

  "Hey, Max," a slightly winded Rol approached me after the run. Mercifully, Torig decided not to torture the recruits any further, and they headed to the mess hall with clear consciences.

  "Hey," I said, a bit coolly.

  "Man, you're something else…" he said with genuine awe. "You're like a monster. Took out five of us in seconds, and now you're standing here barely winded while the rest of us are half-dead."

  "It only looks that way. I'm pretty tired too," I answered honestly. I wasn't a full vampire after all, and my body had concrete limits right now. Without blood, in a week or two, a run like that would be beyond me.

  "Still, you're unreal," he insisted, still impressed. "You don't even look that strong, but then… damn. Where are you from?"

  "I'm…" I hesitated slightly. "A Chosen of the Tower."

  "Seriously?!" He practically shouted. "Whoa! I've never met a Chosen! So you're really from another world?!"

  "Yeah…" He was starting to get on my nerves a little. My mood was already shot thanks to the wet wake-up call, and now this guy was stuck to me like glue.

  "No way! Then it all makes sense! The crazy strength, why Lady de Shinro took an interest in you, the squire thing. And that girl… what's her name… Gera! Is she a Chosen too?"

  "Doubt it. Lady Katrina called her 'branded'… I think. Do you know what that means?"

  "Of course," he said, his tone immediately sobering.

  "Care to explain?"

  "Sure, it's not that complicated. Ever heard of Yundor?"

  "Yeah. That it's an unpleasant place. Not much more."

  "Yundor is a floating continent."

  "Floating? How does that work?"

  "It flies," the kid shrugged. "I've never seen it myself, but that's what they say. Usually it doesn't drift into this part of Aularon — it stays somewhere to the south. They say it completely blocks out the sky, and when that happens, night on the ground can last for weeks. Until Yundor passes."

  "So how is Gera connected to Yundor?" I asked directly.

  "She's a slave who escaped from there. See… Yundor isn't inhabited by humans. It's elves. Real bastards, honestly, but extremely powerful. They try not to get into major conflicts with Trilor or the Empire, but occasionally they flex. The long-ears have one particularly charming trait — they don't consider humans to be people. They see themselves as superior beings, and humans are no better than cattle. And like any superior beings, they keep slaves. Mostly humans. Some lucky ones escape, but they're usually caught by bounty hunters."

  "Elven bounty hunters?"

  "If only. They're our own kind. Rotten people, when you think about it. And the worst part is, in the Free Counties, escaped slaves are outlaws. Hunters have every legal right to grab you in broad daylight and ship you back to the elves for a bounty, as long as there's a brand. They can sell free people too, but elves only pay for the valuable ones. Mages, for instance."

  "That's insane," I said, horrified.

  "It is," Rol sighed. "That's exactly why so many people want to become citizens of Trilor or the Empire. For the branded, it's literally the only path to real freedom. And the Order of the Swallow is one of the easiest ways."

  "I see…" I thought about it. "But why doesn't your precious Trilor put a stop to this?" The longer I stayed in this world, the less I liked it. Sure, mine had plenty of its own garbage, but openly dragging people into slavery in broad daylight while "civilized" nations looked the other way? I definitely didn't remember anything like that back home.

  "They do. Within their means. For example, any Hunter who goes after a Trilor citizen faces the death penalty. And openly catching escapees on Trilor territory is also illegal."

  I'd previously been skeptical about why such a large buffer zone existed between two major powers. I didn't understand why one of them wouldn't just gobble up a bigger piece and push right up to the rival's border. As I now understood, this "buffer" had existed for centuries, and the reason was becoming clear. Neither Trilor nor the Empire wanted war with Yundor, and this zone served certain needs for all parties involved. It let Trilor and the Empire settle disputes with minimal bloodshed using bribed feudal lords, while Yundor used the Counties to hunt escaped slaves and occasionally acquire new ones. Without this "free" zone, the two major nations would face their citizens being kidnapped. And then it was one of two options: a massive war, or admitting their own helplessness.

  "Scary world you've got here…" I genuinely felt uneasy when it sank in where I'd landed. It could've been worse — I could've ended up in some radioactive wasteland — but still.

  "It's not all bad," Rol smiled. "You're already in the Order of the Swallow, so things are fine!"

  Right. Just peachy. A vampire hiding among vampire hunters!

  Even so, his encouragement actually did help, and I found myself seeing Gera in a completely different light. No wonder she treated me the way she did. She'd escaped from the elves, probably gone through hell before reaching Vularian. And now this girl was clinging to her chance at freedom with her teeth, and I was standing in her way. Why would she be nice to me?

  I needed to find a way to fix things between us. Maybe she wasn't as unhinged as she seemed.

  But that could wait until after food. And only when I reached the mess hall did I remember I'd lost my breakfast ration. That's when Rol came through, giving me half of his. Maybe it was a cheap attempt at friendship, but as the gods of this isekai tower were my witness, I was deeply grateful. I needed to eat a lot, or I'd risk switching to a more… liquid diet.

  I had a full agenda today and needed to finish before evening — Torig had promised sword training, and anyone who showed up late would not only skip dinner but repeat the hour-long run.

  Günther, as promised, gave me twenty silvers plus a certificate bearing Lady de Shinro's seal, confirming I was a recruit of the Order of the Swallow. With that, I shouldn't have problems even if someone didn't like the convict's brand on my hand.

  But I wasn't about to leave just yet. The mage had promised to teach me magic, hadn't he?

  Günther received my request without enthusiasm, but a promise was a promise. First, he asked me to take off my shirt, then placed his hand on my chest. The sensation was similar to Katrina's touch, except this time it didn't hurt. Like cold invisible tendrils probing into my ribcage, searching for something.

  "Well, congratulations, Max. You do have a gift. Not surprising — many Chosen do. But it's quite, quite modest."

  "So I can learn magic?"

  "You can, but to build your internal reserves to even an average level will take years and years of dedicated training."

  "Well, I'm in no rush."

  "I am, though," the mage smirked, then stood, crossed his room, found a small book in one corner, and handed it to me.

  I took it and scanned the unfamiliar squiggles, yet somehow understood what was written. Still amazing. Another reminder that if I'd landed here without the language, my problems would've multiplied tenfold.

  "Shog Kalkuff's Guide to Magic?" I read aloud.

  "Yes, one of the foundational texts. It should be enough to develop basic magical abilities."

  "Any actual spells in here?"

  "Mostly blanks," he warned immediately. "Calibrated for various mana capacities."

  "Great…"

  "Don't give up. If the ability is there, all isn't lost. Usually they start developing it around age ten or twelve, so you're a bit old for it. But you can definitely learn to cast a few spells."

  "Well, thanks for that," I said.

  Leaving Günther, I was somewhat disappointed. Naively, I'd thought the mage would turn me into a wizard with a snap of his fingers. Instead he'd handed me a book and told me to go study. But it didn't cool my desire to explore magic. Vampire powers were great, but existing in this transitional state was extremely difficult.

  One pleasant surprise — they returned my sword at the manor exit. And this time it didn't mysteriously vanish. What a miracle!

  "Maximilian," the soldier who returned the weapon told me as I was leaving. "Fine sword you've got, but if you ever spot elves — which is extremely unlikely in this part of the world — try to hide it. Blades like this turn up in the Counties, but elves take a very dim view of it. If they see it, they'll grab you and torture you to death, and no certificate will save you."

  "Thanks for the warning," I frowned, eyeing my blade with considerably less enthusiasm.

  It was my first time alone on the city streets, and the temptation to bolt was enormous. I had money and a weapon — why not make a run for it? Ah… who was I kidding? I wasn't running. Not yet, anyway. Sure, the conditions weren't great, but at least they fed me and I had a chance to adapt to this world. After that… we'd see.

  First stop — clothes. I found pants at a tailor's shop almost immediately. And the price was shockingly cheap — just thirty coppers. I decided to keep the old shirt, but splurged on an expensive jacket at five silvers. It was made from oil-boiled leather — the kind used for leather armor — with iron inserts. Basically, I'd bought not just a jacket but a casual version of leather armor.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  So the upper half of my new wardrobe came together easily. Shoes, on the other hand, were a different story. Finding my size was quick enough — the problem was something else entirely. They were horribly uncomfortable. Either the vendor's supplier was a terrible cobbler, or footwear in general was a serious problem in this world.

  I managed to pick out a pair, but they only made me miss the sneakers Selina had stolen. The boots cost me about one silver. All told, for a little over six silvers I had a full set of clothes. After a moment's thought, I also bought a proper belt — my sword was literally hanging from a piece of rope. That set me back another twenty coppers.

  I left the tailor's in a good mood. The merchant had tried to push a raincoat and hat on me, but I passed. Günther had mentioned that the Order of the Swallow had special cloaks bearing its crest.

  Next on my shopping list — a flask. Günther had advised getting one, since water wasn't always nearby on the road. I was about to grab the simplest one for twenty-five coppers when my eye caught another, covered in strange interlacing symbols. They looked magical…

  "Oh, you've got a sharp eye, young man."

  "Is it magical?" I asked.

  "Indeed. A special flask designed to preserve perishable drinks or magical potions. Anything poured inside won't spoil for several hundred years."

  "How much?" I was genuinely interested.

  "Fifteen silvers."

  "No way. Too expensive."

  The flask had caught my attention because it could potentially solve one very significant problem of mine. I intended to, if not stop, at least significantly slow the degradation. And there was only one way to do that — drinking blood. Not human, obviously. Animal blood would work fine. Cow or pig — I could probably buy some from a local butcher.

  The key was dosage. I didn't need to transform into a bloodthirsty monster — just slow the decline of my vampire abilities. One sip per day should be enough.

  Though I wasn't actually sure about that…

  Honestly, this decision didn't come easy. Seven years ago, I'd rejected the vampire path, choosing to live as a human. But when you find yourself on death's doorstep twice in a couple of days, you start reconsidering your views.

  Maybe in the future, once I'd learned magic, I wouldn't need to drink blood anymore. But for now, I'd use every tool available to get stronger. Because if I'd been an ordinary human, I'd already be dead twice over.

  The haggling with the vendor took nearly half an hour. We settled on eleven silvers. I also liked the flask for its small size. Most flasks held about a liter of water, sometimes more, sometimes less. This magical one held just half a liter. That suited me perfectly.

  Besides the enchanted flask, I picked up a regular one. Had to carry water in something. I also grabbed a small travel sack for ten coppers. Basically just a drawstring bag, but it was enough.

  After some thought, I bought myself a small dagger for one silver too. Why? Just felt like it. I'd noticed people often carried daggers in addition to swords. Figured I'd blend in. Plus, some establishments apparently required swords to be wrapped or surrendered at the door — at least that's what I'd heard from the soldiers.

  Next target — the butcher. Finding one wasn't too hard, but my request was met with extreme suspicion. The man's face scrunched up, he got all twitchy, and kept eyeing me like he was debating whether to call the guards. So I employed a little cunning, telling him I was a recruit from the Order of the Swallow and that we were heading out tomorrow to hunt demons. We needed the blood to lure the dark spawn.

  The moment I said that, the butcher broke into a satisfied grin and instantly filled my flask to the brim. Though he charged me five whole coppers for it, which struck me as a complete rip-off. But I didn't haggle much, pretending the money wasn't mine anyway.

  I made it back to our temporary headquarters before lunch. Incidentally, I now more or less understood how a mobile combat unit had ended up with a manor. It didn't look like a military organization's headquarters — more like some aristocrat's home that soldiers had suddenly occupied. It was Count Vular's guest estate, where his friends or important visitors could stay in comfort. Since the Order of the Swallow was quite influential and the Count was loyal to Trilor, they'd lent the manor to Lady Katrina for the duration of her stay.

  One of the squad members warned me not to get too comfortable, though. This didn't happen often. Far more frequently, the squad slept outdoors, and they were lucky if a large enough inn turned up along the way.

  Torig, meanwhile, had organized a voluntary hand-to-hand combat lesson for the recruits. They tried to rope me in too, but I talked my way out and devoted my free time to magic basics.

  Gera wasn't in our "room," so the first thing I did was take a small sip from the blood flask. The effect was instant. Every muscle seized in a spasm and my chest locked up. It released just as abruptly as it started. And suddenly I felt incredible power coursing through my entire body. Like I could leap onto a two-story building in a single bound.

  But god, how I wanted… more…

  I hastily screwed the cap back on and shoved the flask out of sight. To redirect my attention, I pulled out the magic book — and from the very first lines, I knew this was going to be brutally difficult. The author had absolutely zero literary talent, and it felt like reading the driest instruction manual ever written. Which, technically, it was. But the writing was painfully unclear.

  From what I managed to absorb: there were six tiers of magic. The first was the basic tier — covering the fundamentals of weaving spells and the simplest incantations not tied to any element. Tiers two through five were elemental. At the second tier, a mage began studying the element they had an affinity for. Only after mastering it sufficiently could they move to the next. By the fifth tier, a mage was expected to wield all four elements. The sixth tier introduced nothing new — it was simply a qualitative advancement of the fifth. A sixth-tier mage had to demonstrate mastery over all four elements.

  That was "classical" magic. But there were also other branches, about which the book said considerably less.

  First was Light magic. Typically wielded by paladins and priests. In most cases, a person who trained in Light magic subsequently couldn't use classical magic above the basic tier.

  The situation with Dark magic was similar. Except the guide had almost nothing written about it. Apparently, students of classical magic didn't need to know.

  Shadow magic also got a mention, and notably, Shadow and Dark were not synonyms. All the book said about Shadow magic was that it couldn't be learned. "The Shadow chooses its own adepts," the explanation read. And that was it.

  Yeah… not a lot to work with.

  Done with the overview, I switched to actually studying magic, and hit the first serious wall. The book said you needed to learn to feel the magical energy inside yourself. How? Excellent question. There were exactly two lines on the subject: sit and detach from the world, directing your gaze inward toward your soul.

  In short — meditate. A lot. While mentally visualizing mana flows.

  I flipped ahead just in case, but realized that without learning to control mana within my body, I physically couldn't progress further. In fairy tales about a certain wizard, you just needed a magic wand and the right pronunciation. In reality, it was far more complicated. Words didn't matter in magic — what mattered were magical weaves that needed to be filled with energy. No energy, no magic.

  With a heavy sigh, I set the book aside and sat in a lotus position. The book gave no instructions on posture, but that's how people usually meditate. Maybe it'd help?

  Closing my eyes as advised, I tried to direct my gaze inward. The book said the gift usually felt like a small warm ball, hidden in the center of the chest, near the heart. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't feel it. All I felt was my stomach grumbling, demanding another round of food.

  I don't know how long I sat like that, but the result was entirely predictable — I just passed out.

  "Wake up." A solid kick knocked me onto the mattress.

  "Huh?" I shook my head groggily and found Lady Katrina standing over me.

  "Get up," she said curtly. "You're coming with me."

  "Where?" I blinked.

  "Your sorceress friend was caught in a village nearby."

  The news that Selina had been captured both relieved and terrified me. The main problem was that she knew what I really was. If that caused complications, I was done for. So I tried to convince the lady I shouldn't go.

  "Stop arguing with me," she said, ice cold. "I need you to identify her. Grab what you need and let's go."

  "I'm ready." I got to my feet and threw on my new jacket.

  Katrina swept those beautiful green eyes over me and smirked.

  "What?"

  "Bad jacket."

  "Why?" I didn't follow.

  "Because. It's inferior to standard leather armor in every way, and you can't wear actual armor over it. Basically threw your money away."

  Well, damn. And here I thought I'd gotten a solid piece of gear.

  "Fine, let's go. We need to get there before nightfall," she said and walked off. I fell in step behind her.

  Two saddled horses waited at the estate's gate. There, I unpleasantly surprised Katrina by revealing I couldn't ride.

  "What kind of world are you from where you can't even ride a horse?" she grumbled.

  So we had to share. The paladin steered while I sat behind her, holding onto her waist.

  Out of the city, she directed the horse northwest. We rode in silence for a while, but apparently the woman got bored and decided to chat.

  "Were you studying magic earlier?" she asked — she must've seen the book during my meditation.

  "Sort of," I sighed. "Not going too well, though. The book talks about 'finding a warm ball in your chest,' but I can't feel anything."

  "That's not unusual. A lot of beginners struggle with that. Not many gifted people have a fully formed Gift from the start — usually you have to 'assemble' it yourself."

  "How?"

  She thought about it.

  "Picture the inside of an egg. The yolk is usually round, but if you break it, it spreads through the white. Now imagine the yolk is the Gift, and the white is your body. You need to pull it into your center and form a sphere."

  "I think… I'm starting to get it…" Her explanation sounded a little odd, but I grasped the essence. "I need to visualize warmth gathering from all over my body into my chest?"

  "More or less. That's how I did it when I was learning. But methods vary — mine might not work for you. Some people take years. The important thing is don't give up. You do have a Gift — I felt it too — but it's quite weak. And stop groping my chest!"

  "Sorry…" I said, moving my hand back down to her waist. It wasn't intentional — the horse kept bouncing on the uneven road and my hand had migrated upward on its own. And there wasn't even any chest to speak of. It was all hidden under the cuirass.

  "Have you and Gera gotten along?"

  "No. She treats me like… I don't even know the right word. But I don't blame her. I've heard all about your Yundor and how they treat humans there. For her, the Order of the Swallow is a chance at real freedom. For me, it's more like prison."

  "Give it time. You'll change your mind," she smirked. "And so will she. If you both survive, that is."

  There it was again — surviving.

  "How reassuring."

  "Maximilian, I have a serious question for you. When we arrive, how do you think I should handle this woman?"

  "Why are you asking me?"

  "I always consider the opinions of my people."

  "I don't know," I answered honestly.

  "Under Trilor law, what she did carries the death penalty. But she's a mage, and that counts for a lot. With some effort, I could recruit her into my squad, same as you."

  "You're in charge, so it's your call."

  "It's just — if you're harboring a deep grudge, better to say so now. I don't want you two staging a knife fight down the line. I'd rather execute her now for theft and attempted gem trafficking than lose both of you later."

  "Both of us?" I didn't follow.

  "Because I'd be obligated to execute the one who killed a comrade. Those are the Order's rules."

  Did I want Selina dead? A very, very good question. Yes and no. If she'd asked me back in the cell, I wouldn't have hesitated. But now… maybe the girl really had needed the money badly enough to sacrifice a near-stranger? Not to mention that before those cursed gems, she'd saved my life. Twice. Even after learning I was a monster.

  "I'm afraid I can't give you a clear answer. I won't kill her myself. As for what happens after — I don't know. Let's just say I believe she should face a fair punishment for her crimes."

  "Understood," Katrina nodded.

  We rode the rest of the way in silence. The closer we got to our destination, the darker it grew. By the time the lights of the village appeared ahead, night had fully fallen.

  We arrived at a small village — thirty houses by my count. Several guards with torches were already waiting for us. Judging by their bored expressions, they'd been waiting a while.

  "'Oo goes there?" one of them called, spotting the riders.

  "Paladin Katrina de Shinro, Order of the Swallow," the woman said, dismounting. She did it with such grace, despite the armor, that I watched for a moment in admiration. I, on the other hand, nearly executed a spectacular neck-breaking dismount when my foot caught in the stirrup and I pitched headfirst toward the ground. One of the guards couldn't suppress a snicker. Katrina gave me a cold look and inquired: "Intact?"

  "More or less," I said, dusting myself off.

  "They say you've caught a sorceress?" Lady de Shinro addressed one of the guards.

  "Well, can't say about no sorceress," he shrugged. "She didn't show no witchcraft. But the face matches the picture! Spot on, it is!"

  "Where is she?"

  "In the barn, she is."

  "Take us."

  The closer the guards led us to Selina, the harder my heart pounded. I was praying to every higher power that it wasn't her. Because one word about me being half-vampire and my quiet life was over. I'd go from recruit to target. And worse — a branded target that could be tracked without effort.

  A massive structure loomed ahead, looking most like the barns from American movies.

  "Ahem… that's odd," the senior guard suddenly stopped and looked around, confused.

  "What is it?" Katrina was instantly alert.

  "Tinon should be here, he should. Did he run off? Or went in to feel up the woman? Nah… lock's still on. Strange, this is…"

  We approached closer, but there was no sign of the other guard.

  "Tinon, where are ya?!" the man shouted as we reached the barn's heavy doors. No answer. "Oooh, he'll get it when he shows! He'll get it good!"

  After some grumbling, the guard set about opening the massive lock. Once he'd managed it, he pulled the rickety barn door open with considerable effort, clearing the way.

  "I go first," Katrina said, taking the oil lantern from the guard. Light source in her left hand, she drew her weapon with her right. Sensing something was off, I drew my sword too.

  The first thing we noticed was blood on the floor. A lot of blood. I'd smelled it before I saw it, but couldn't warn anyone in time.

  "Stay ready," Katrina whispered.

  The blood trailed in a straight line, disappearing into the darkness. We followed. It didn't go far, curving into the first animal stall — and there we found a severed human head. It was Selina, beyond any doubt. But what hit me hardest was the grimace of terror frozen on her pale face. She'd died in agony.

  "Gods…" was all the guard who'd followed us could manage. The sight of the severed head horrified him so completely that within seconds he'd bolted. His stomach apparently couldn't take it. Nearby, I spotted a severed arm — also clearly the girl's.

  "Who could've done this?" the senior guard said in horror. His stomach, at least, was sturdier than his subordinate's.

  "That's what we need to find out," Katrina said, peering warily into the darkness. The barn was large — plenty of dark corners where whoever committed this brutal murder could still be hiding.

  I stepped back a couple of paces, pretending to fight down nausea. In reality, the smell of human blood was far too tempting right now. It tickled my senses pleasantly, like the aroma of a favorite dish, and set my stomach growling with hunger.

  Taking several deep breaths and trying to master the craving, I tilted my head up — and met a pair of red eyes. A pale human face stared down at me from the ceiling, two large red eyes that made the blood freeze in my veins. My insides went cold. The creature, so human-like in appearance, grinned with satisfaction, revealing rows of small, sharp teeth.

  Fear. That's exactly what I felt looking at the creature. The thing was literally hypnotizing me, projecting terror. But I managed to pry my sealed lips apart, and in that instant, the monster snarled and dropped onto me with such speed that even my reflexes couldn't save me.

  "You smell… almost like us… but you're not one of us…" the creature whispered, almost inaudibly, pinning me under its weight and sniffing me like an animal. Despite my enhanced strength, I couldn't overpower it. There was no doubt it could kill me without breaking a sweat.

  "Touch of Light!" Katrina's shout rang out, and in the next instant I was blinded.

  "Graaaa!" the pale creature shrieked, leaping off me and diving into the shadows.

  "What the hell was that?!" the guard screamed, backing toward the exit. But he didn't make it another step. Clawed fingers tore out his throat.

  "Stay close to me!" Katrina shouted, using the Light spell again, but the creature was faster. I caught only the edge of a blurred silhouette.

  By then I was back on my feet, covering Katrina's back.

  This was a vampire, without question. Not some pathetic ghoul, but a genuinely powerful bloodsucker who'd already lost his human form. Still far from the Ancient vampire lords, but already a head above me — maybe two. Fast, strong, able to melt into shadows and dominate his victims.

  "Move toward the exit. Slowly," Katrina whispered, unleashing another burst of Light that drove back the darkness for a couple of seconds.

  "Got it."

  Step by careful step, we shifted toward the barn doors — but we didn't make it. The thing attacked me. Good thing I was ready. By some miracle, I parried the bloodsucker's clawed swipe aimed directly at my heart. The elven blade caught it just in time, and I got off with a scratch on my side.

  Katrina immediately blasted the creature with a palm of Light at near point-blank range, but the vampire was barely clipped. It hissed furiously, recoiled, and vanished into the shadows again.

  "Alive?"

  "Yeah. Just a scratch."

  The next attack targeted Katrina, and this time the vampire struck from above. But Lady de Shinro seemed to have expected exactly that. At the last moment she shoved me aside, sidestepped, and swung her blade, very nearly taking the vampire's head clean off.

  Unfortunately, the key word there was "nearly." The vampire slipped away again, making Katrina swear viciously.

  "It's toying with us."

  "It sure is," she confirmed. "A high vampire… Nobody's seen one in a century. And I'm afraid it's shown us less than half of what it can do."

  "What do you think our chances are?"

  "Not great…" she admitted honestly.

  I could've improved them by draining the flask, but even then I doubted I'd be its equal. And if Katrina found out what I was, there'd be no going back. I'd save that for the absolute last resort.

  "Could really use Günther right now," the girl sighed. "He could dispel the gloom, and then maybe we'd have a fighting chance."

  The situation couldn't have been worse.

  Would things change if we were out in the open? I seriously doubted it.

  "I'm going to do something," Katrina said. "The moment you see a bright light — run."

  "Okay…" I said, and noticed the paladin's skin beginning to glow faintly. Her green eyes were shifting color, turning gold.

  Dangerous!

  I had no idea what she was about to do, but every survival instinct was screaming to run. The enemy seemed to sense it too and decided playtime was over. But this time, it used cunning — instead of charging in, it hurled a pitchfork at us. I managed to react, but Katrina, focused on unleashing some hidden power, couldn't fully dodge. She tried to twist away, but one of the steel prongs caught her shoulder. But that wasn't the worst part. The impact was so powerful it flung her several meters, spinning her through the air.

  I rushed toward her, but the bloodsucker was right there. Appearing in front of me, halfway to the paladin, it grabbed me by the throat and lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing, stretching its lips into a victorious smirk. I tried to swing my sword, but it effortlessly caught my arm and squeezed my wrist with enough force to make the bones creak.

  "Enough," came a voice from nearby, and the bloodsucker's face twisted with displeasure.

  The voice was female, but I couldn't tell where it came from. Apparently, the vampire wasn't alone.

  "But I was just starting to have fun…"

  "We don't kill more than necessary."

  "I remember…" The one attacking us clearly didn't agree with that sentiment, but didn't dare argue.

  "We got what we came for. The last thing we need is the Order on our trail, seeking vengeance for a dead paladin."

  "As you wish, my lady," the vampire said, eyeing me with malice. "I've memorized your scent, halfblood. The world is small. Perhaps… hehehe… we'll meet again and finish what we started."

  With that, it flung me aside like a puppy. By the time I scrambled to my feet, it was gone. Realizing the bloodsucker had fled, I sprinted to Katrina. The girl was already conscious, but the shoulder wound was truly horrific. It had been torn apart completely — the armor hadn't saved her — and it was only by some miracle that the arm was still attached, dangling by a couple of muscles.

  And the blood — gushing in a torrent. I didn't even know how to stop it, given the sheer size of the wound.

  "Shit… shit!" I yelled, desperately trying to stanch the bleeding. "Don't you dare die!"

  Katrina looked at me through glazed eyes, tried to say something, but all I could see was her lips moving without sound.

  "Hey! Someone! Help!" I screamed, but no one came.

  Lady Katrina de Shinro was dying in my arms, and there was nothing I could do about it.