— Back to Freya —
The shadows lunged.
Vampires surged from the darkness, claws and fangs bared, their twisted faces stretched in snarls of hunger and cruelty.
But Freya didn't flinch.
She stood between the monsters and the hut where Valtherion and Elarwen were hidden.
And she whispered three words in Elvish.
"Althar. Nua. Siran."(Shield. Light. Faith.)
A blinding white dome erupted around her, pulsing outward with a sacred hum.
The first wave of vampires struck it like a storm against a lighthouse—and were repelled instantly, their bodies scorched by the purity of the magic. Screams echoed in the night as their skin smoked and cracked.
Before they could recover—
Freya moved.
A streak of silver and fire.
Her boots struck the ground with divine speed as she dashed through them, her enchanted daggers glowing with white-hot magic.
Each motion was a death sentence.
One slash opened a throat.A spin took off an arm.A downward strike pierced a heart.They barely had time to blink.
One by one, they fell.
Cut to pieces.
Ash and blood scattered in her wake like a macabre snowstorm.
And all the while, from a safe distance, Sagast watched.
Leaning against the broken fence, arms crossed, an amused smirk on his flawless face.
"Well, well," he muttered, pretending to be surprised. "I guess the wolf can bite."
He even clapped softly. "Bravo, Freya. Truly… impressive."
But Freya didn't stop.
She didn't even look his way.
Not yet.
With a final pivot, she sliced clean through the last vampire's chest. The creature gasped, turned to ash mid-air, and vanished with the wind.
Silence.
Only the crackle of fire and the faint whispers of the elven spell still humming from her body remained.
She stood still, blades dripping, eyes fixed now—only—on him.
Then, without a word, she stabbed one of her daggers into the ground between them.
And smiled.
A sharp, wicked smile.
Then she dashed at him — full speed, flames trailing behind her.
Sagast sighed and vanished once again into a pool of blood, oozing beneath her like a serpent, reappearing calmly on the other side of the battlefield.
He couldn't move on the side.
The only thing he could do to dodge was going behind his target.
"You'll need better tricks than th—" Sagast spoke, with a hint of mockery in his voice.
But, something happened.
"RELEASE!"
Freya's elvish voice echoed like a thunderclap.
The dagger she left behind exploded in a torrent of black fire.
A column of searing flame engulfed Sagast.
He barely had time to react.
He screamed—not in pain, but in pure, seething annoyance—as the blast caught his coat, scorching its right sleeve, and burning the hem.
When the flames died, he stood there, coat half-ruined, hair tousled, breathing hard.
And his smile was gone.
He looked down at his outfit.
Then back up at her.
"You…" He whispered, in a deadly voice.
His tone became way different than before.
The mockery in his voice got replaced by anger.
Freya laughed at him with a mischievous smirk, clearly enjoying his reaction.
"I think you understimated me, didn't you" Freya said, while standing on guarda again.
Sagast sighed and raised his hand.
Black liquid began dripping from his palms.
At first a slow ooze, then a torrent.
It poured like ink, writhing around his arms and shoulders, coating him like armor made of poison.
His crimson eyes narrowed, and for the first time… the gentleman mask cracked.
"You ruined my coat."
Freya raised an eyebrow. "Nah. I just ruined your stupid ego."
That did it.
With a guttural sound — no longer refined, but feral — Sagast lunged at her, the black ichor snaking off his body, forming blades, whips, and claws as he attacked.
Freya met him head-on.
Flame against shadow.
Speed against deception.
Light against corruption.
And above them, the stars watched — silent witnesses to a battle born of fate, fire, and fury.
But, Sagast was probably hiding another thing.
He is the master of deception.
Maybe, everything he was doing was just a tactic.
He always fought with his mind first.
Sagast clashed at her with a lot of rapid hits, aiming at her neck.
He didn't speak any word.
He was just trying to kill her as fast as he could.
Freya, on the other hand, easily parried all of his attacks despite his weapons were bigger than her daggers.
Moreover, the white magic she had on them didn't seem to hurt Sagast at all.
A normal vampire would've burnt to death even from touching her sacred magic.
But him? No, not at all.
"So? Is that all you've got, Egomaniac?" Freya said, clearly taunting him.
Sagast's eyes widened as he took one step back.
In an instant, all the black liquid flew on his hand, covering it entirely.
Then, he rapidly dashed towards and threw a punch to Freya.
"Oh shit-!" She exclaimed, parrying the hit.
But the strenght was too much.
Freya lost her balance for a split second and in that short amount of time, Sagast immediately became a pool of blood to go behind her.
Then, he grabbed her.
Left arm around her belly, and right arm around her chest, with his hand holding Freya's head in a very painful and tight grip.
Freya dropped her daggers on the floor.
Sagast, without any single word, immediately used his hands to expose Freya's neck.
She was struggling to move.
Moreover, she couldn't do anything in the position she was.
"Your heartbeat has increased, Bitch-elf. I wonder how you're gonna taste now, with all the adrenaline in your blood..." Sagast said, while licking his lips.
Freya's neck was completely exposed, and her nervousness was palpable.
Sagast held her neck in place with chilling precision.
Her head tilted slightly back, shoulders locked — and there, just beneath the skin, her jugular pulsed visibly, a fragile rhythm betraying the storm within.
"LEAVE ME, MONSTER!" Freya shouted, trying to break free from him, but Sagast didn't loosen the grip not even for a split second.
Her neck was rigid under his grip, skin pale and strained.
"Thanks for the food, even though I prefere virgins." He said, while opening his mouth , showing his fangs.
But, suddenly, Freya's heartbeat became regular again.
She stopped moving.
But Sagast didn't care.
He leaned close.
Freya, on the other hand, smirked.
"Velz'morth Khaen... delyan shi ven." (Death frost, Drain the cursed blood).
After hearing those words, Sagast immediately released Freya's body.
But... It was probably too late.