His new allies also explained to him that he had to obey the Supreme Vampire Fes, and then everything would be fine—he would be able to kill many people and drink their blood. In his rage, the knight killed the one who was enlightening him; the very thought of killing innocents was abhorrent to him. Then a boy ran up to him seeking protection...
Tearing himself away from the boy's throat and rising from the ground, the warrior realized that his past life no longer mattered. From now on, he was one of those creatures known as vampires. This meant he had to find the Supreme Vampire and fulfill an old dream—taking revenge on the master who, five years ago, had demoted him from a half-squad leader to a regular guard, thus ruining his entire life.
Fes, who proudly demanded to be addressed only as the Supreme Vampire, grinned predatorily.
"Killing enemies is our specialty! And how do you plan to take this fortress?"
"They know me. I'll run up and they'll open the gates for me; I won't let them close them until the other vampires arrive."
"Can you handle the guards?" Fes asked skeptically, examining the warrior.
"I'm the best swordsman in the guard. You killed all three paladins this morning; only the mages are dangerous, but they shouldn't be at the gates."
"Mages are not dangerous. You're a mage yourself now. Just imagine that there's a shell around you that should deflect magic,"—ghouls did not possess the blood memory ability, and when explaining what personal magic was, Vidov did so at a very basic level.
But the former officer understood perfectly what this young man, who for some strange reason was the vampire leader, was talking about. The man raised his hand and ignited a flame on his finger. He knew well how personal magic worked, having interacted with paladins many times. Many evenings in his youth were spent trying to ignite a small flame at the tip of his finger with just his willpower; he had greatly wanted to become a mage. Old dreams had come true.
"If that's the case, I can keep the gates open for as long as needed. Shall we start?"
"No,"—Fes shook his head—"We need to gather all those who, like you, were turned today. It's still daytime, and as the one who turned me said, vampires' time is night."
The approaching figure was heard, and as soon as he appeared in the square, he was recognized immediately. The former half-squad leader Askold was a well-known figure in the city, primarily for being the only person who had dared to openly defy Master Joseph. For this, he had been demoted to a regular guard, though to be fair, he had sent the mage away for a good reason.
Meanwhile, the man headed towards the gates, which began to open slightly to let him in. As twilight fell upon the city, it seemed to become silent. The cries of the invaders were no longer heard, and sparks from the mages' shields, who were on the walls and under constant bombardment from the slinger, were no longer visible.
No one appeared in the square. Ideas began to form that perhaps the terrible enemy had left the city. And now another survivor was rushing to get under the protection of the fortress walls, which meant the enemy was still on the streets. Of course, deep down, many wondered—How did Askold survive? But no one dared to ask themselves this question; he was one of their own, and he needed help!
The knight quickly ran to the gates and slipped through the partially opened wicket. The soldier standing behind it tried to slam it shut immediately, but the sword in his side prevented him from doing so.
"Sorry, Jeanne," the man whispered, and, pulling the sword out of the collapsing body, immediately struck at another soldier standing nearby.
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