Chapter Text
Overlooking a large valley roughly twenty miles south of Doormont lay a fortress, a simple stone outpost capped with a lighthouse. In the distance, the Doormont House of Change sat clearly visible even at this distance, like a grim monument where the King remained trapped. Around the outpost, guards patrolled the perimeter, keeping a strict eye out for any sign of trouble.
The fortress was utilitarian: stone walls with three entrances facing the North, South, and East. At the center sat the lighthouse tower. Clustered around its base were three wooden buildings constructed with haste and little care: a barracks, a supply room, and a mess hall.
This was one of two outposts made by the King's Hunters to observe, decipher, and categorize the King’s messages to his troops. Like its sister location in the far north, this post watched for the King’s flashes, recorded them, and relayed orders to the rest of the army.
Siffrin sighed, settling into a high branch of the tree where he lay hidden. Night was a rogue's best cover, and he was profoundly thankful for the shadows. From his brief headcount, he estimated twenty-five to thirty soldiers in total. Even with the element of surprise, they were heavily outnumbered.
The Hunters seemed to rotate their guard shifts once every eight to twelve hours or so. The three square meals a day suggested they weren't rationing food, but they seemed to lack in armor. Guards not on duty didn't even wear helmets, though it looked like everyone carried some kind of weapon.
Siffrin turned his head sharply, barely catching the words of a particularly loud guard sitting atop the wall.
"Yeah, I eavesdropped on the war room earlier," the guard told his companion. "They think the northern outpost was attacked recently, so they’re requesting reinforcements here."
There was a pause. The second guard’s reply was too muffled for Siffrin to hear.
"Nah, I don't think we have to worry about an attack here," the loud one continued. "At least not for a few days or weeks. Those fools don't have the numbers or the skill to assault both outposts in such a short amount of time. Honestly, I’m just glad more people means less time on patrol. I’m tired of being on guard duty for twelve hours straight."
Frowning, Siffrin shifted and began his descent. This posed a significant problem for the group. He landed silently near the other Saviors, who were waiting about a quarter mile from the fort.
"Siffrin, good, you’re back," Odile said, standing from a fallen log. The researcher closed her book and grabbed her new battle staff. Her glasses, now little more than a relic, had been turned into a necklace dangling from a spare string around her neck. "What’s the status of the fort?"
"Yeah, how are we looking? Think we can take it?" Isabeau asked with a grin, pushing himself off the tree he’d been leaning against.
Nearby, Mirabelle and Bonnie were busy organizing their supplies.
Siffrin stepped into the light and sighed, shaking his head. "It’s not the worst case scenario yet, but it’s headed that way. The Defenders were impatient and acted on the plan too early. They've already assaulted the northern fort. I don't know if they were successful, but reinforcements are being sent here sooner rather than later."
This attack was supposed to be a coordinated effort between the Defenders and Saviors. They were to attack both forts at the same time and leave the army blinded. However, the Defenders got impatient and attacked far too early.
"Any idea when they’ll show up?" Mirabelle asked, her voice tight.
Siffrin shook his head. "No idea, but if I had to guess, I'd say we have at most somewhere between three days to a week."
Odile turned a page in her book, humming thoughtfully. "How many did you see inside?"
"Somewhere in the realm of twenty-five to thirty," Siffrin replied. "Give or take a few that never left a building."
A brief silence fell over the group. Bonnie, who had just finished packing, summarized the mood perfectly: "Well, crab."
"Indeed, Boniface," Odile said, frowning. "While not the fifty or a hundred we had feared, that amount is still not something I’d like to face without a decent plan."
"Could we try that sadness trick? Like we did at the logistics camp a few months ago?" Isabeau suggested.
Odile shook her head. "Not enough time, and not enough Sadnesses. The time it would take for us to make the special cages would be far too long without help. Besides, they're wise to that trick now. Hunters have been seen killing Sadnesses, remember."
"A frontal assault would be a pretty bad idea, given that’s exactly what they’re stationed to defend against," Mirabelle lamented, her hand drifting toward her mouth.
"Mira, nails," Siffrin reminded her. The Housemaiden quickly dropped her hands to her sides as her cheeks flushed.
"Can’t we just burn it all to the ground?" Bonnie asked. The others flinched; the kid’s pyromania had only intensified since the incident with Vespera.
"Couldn't even if we wanted to," Siffrin explained. "It’s spring. The area is damp with morning dew and most of the fort is stone, or at least the outer walls are...."
Siffrin trailed off, a contemplative look crossing his face. The group grew uneasy; they knew that look. It usually preceded one of Siffrin's plans that everyone dreaded.
The vampires waited with bated breath for what their human would say.
Siffrin blatantly asking, "Do we have any vodka left?" was not something anyone expected, needless to say.
The adults flushed at the question. They had purchased the alcohol weeks ago to celebrate finding all the orbs. Vampires couldn't get drunk off alcohol alone as their bodies wouldn't absorb it properly. However, if a human happened to drink very nice, expensive vodka from a country to the north, and a vampire drank that human's blood, then a vampire could indeed become very, very drunk.
Due to their collective inexperience with human tolerance levels, they had bought far too much. Siffrin, being rather small, was the definition of a lightweight. Their own inexperience meant that the adult vampires of the group were also massive lightweights and got absolutely plastered. Despite that, the adults had enjoyed the party quite a lot.
"Siffrin... now is not really the time," Mirabelle stammered, her face flushing hard.
"Yeah, Sif buddy," Isabeau added. "We’re kind of in the middle of something. Not that we’d say no, but..."
Odile, for her part, looked like she was actually considering it given how much she enjoyed it last time. However, Siffrin shook his head, a flush over his own face before he explained.
"No, no, no!" Siffrin interrupted. "That’s not what I’m suggesting! The walls of the fort are stone, but the interior buildings are wood!"
That caught their attention. A gleeful grin spread across Bonnie’s face as Siffrin began to explain the plan.
The guards on the walls yawned, watching the horizon for the rising sun. Shift change was near, and they were eager for hot baths and sleep.
"So, hey," one guard said, elbowing his partner. "You never mentioned why you joined the King’s Hunters."
The other rolled his eyes. "Same reason as everyone else, moron. The King’s a right bastard, but he keeps his word, and the reward was too good to pass up."
The first guard snorted. "Yeah, I guess. Especially for whichever lucky prick finds the main targets. That’s generational wealth right there."
The other guard snorted in return. "Not that we’ll see it, cooped up down here."
"It’s not so bad," the first guard shrugged. "We’re away from the main conflict. Besides, I don't believe the rumors that the Defenders attacked the north. They’re too spineless for..."
He stopped. Something was glowing in the distance. "Hey, what’s that?"
Faster than they could react, the glowing object streaked through the air. It shattered the window of the wooden barracks. A second later, the structure erupted in flames. Screams filled the air as Hunters poured out of the building, panicked and singed. Most were without their proper arms or armor.
As the warning bell began to toll, the two guards on the wall turned to face the forest. "What in the world was—"
The Hunter never finished his sentence. A dark blur flickered from the trees. A knife found his jugular, and blood sprayed the stones. Siffrin spun, handling the second guard with a knife to the back of their neck before dropping down into the courtyard with a soft thump. His large hat shadowed his eyes, leaving only a small, almost innocent smile on his face.
From his position, Siffrin was at the southeast side of the wall. Visible from his position were each of the gates, the now-burning barracks, the mess hall, and the armory. Above him, another light soared over them and landed on the roof of the mess hall, the glass bottle breaking and catching fire to the structure.
Bonnie's aim was perfect. Siffrin was going to have to make or do something nice for them after this.
Hunters drew their weapons, surrounding the intruder. "You ready to die, scum?" one spearman yelled.
Siffrin’s smile grew. He threw his arms back, his cloak flaring to reveal lightless leather combat armor. With slow grace, he raised his hands up and crossed them, something glittering between the rogue's fingers. In a flash and a song of steel, his hands shot downward. Four Hunters dropped instantly, knives buried in their chests, throats, or faces.
"What?! What the hell?!" a Hunter screamed.
Siffrin smirked, lifting his head to reveal his scarred face. He brandished another set of throwing knives, tossing them with inhuman accuracy not at the hunters, but at the gate mechanisms. The drawbridges fell with a series of thunderous slams. Instead of an army, a single figure stood at each entrance, stepping over the bridges into the fort proper.
"IT’S THEM!" a Hunter shrieked, his voice laced with terror. "IT'S THE VAUGARD DEVILS!"
Odile snorted, spinning her staff. "Devils, huh? Is that what they’re calling us now?"
Isabeau cracked his knuckles, sliding on his brass knuckle dusters. "I guess so, M’dam. Honestly, I’m not sure if I like that or 'Saviors' more. What do you think, Mira?"
Mirabelle drew her rapier, the blade singing as it exited its sheath. "Well, one sounds cooler, though I’m not a fan of the implications."
Siffrin chuckled. "Only these guys call us that. No point dwelling on it. How about we enLIGHTen them on who we really are, hmm?"
Isabeau barked a laugh while the women groaned. From beyond the walls, Bonnie’s voice could be heard groaning with the rest about the pun.
The Hunters regained their wits and charged. One, however, turned and bolted for the tower.
Siffrin swore and gave chase. He couldn't let the Hunters tell the King about their surprise attack. The rogue rushed off, leaving the rest of his party to deal with the rabble.
________________________________________
Odile watched her opponents approach. A Hunter rushed her with a pickaxe, swinging for her skull. She stepped aside with practiced ease, jabbing her staff into his chest. She let a Paper V flow into the weapon; the craft exploded outward, punching a hole straight through the man’s unarmored torso.
She moved on instantly. Another Hunter swung a cleaver wildly at her, their strikes wild, unfocused, and desperate.
"So uncivilized," she muttered. She caught the blade on the dull edge of her staff, then, swinging with the other side of her weapon, she clocked the man in the face. Scissor craft flooded her weapon, the edge opening a gash that blinded him with blood. With a fluid motion, she swung the other end of the staff, freeing the Hunter's head from its neck.
A duo stepped up next: a sword-and-shield user backed by a craft specialist. Odile slid under the swordsman’s strike and hurled her staff like a javelin. It pierced the specialist's heart, pinning him to the ground with the staff sticking out pointed skyward.
Before the swordsman could react, Odile whipped open her book and slammed her palm against the man’s spine. A Rock IV spell shattered his vertebrae and ruptured the organs behind it, leaving him collapsed in agony.
Finally, a heavily armored Hunter stepped forward, wielding a massive two-handed blade. The Hunter towered over the vampire by at least four feet.
Odile looked at the small mountain of muscle that could give Isabeau a run for his money and just muttered, "Oh... stars." She rolled hard to avoid a blow that shattered the ground where she had stood.
She stood and cast Slow IV on her target, but the blinding bastard drew a concealed crossbow and fired at her. The bolt struck her square in the shoulder.
Odile hissed, wrenching the bolt out as her regeneration began to tingle, healing the wound. She grabbed her staff from the corpse nearby and twirled it, letting it rest diagonally against her back. With her book open in her wounded hand, readying a ranged attack, and her staff in the other, a savage grin crossed her face.
"Come on. You can do better than that, can't you?" she taunted. She let herself indulge in her bad habit; it was not often she got to enjoy a good one-on-one scrap, after all.
Odile was a simple woman with simple pleasures, and if one of those happened to be a good hard fight, then who was anyone else to judge?
The armored Hunter roared and stabbed their blade into the ground. A ripple of craft showed her that they had buffed their attack. They stood and fired another bolt at her. Odile's grin never left her face as she smacked it away with her staff.
She tossed her book into the air, letting it float for a brief moment, and let fly the ranged variant of Paper V. However, the pain in her shoulder threw off her aim, and the blast only clipped the man’s pauldron.
As he closed the distance, he swung his sword down at her. Odile met his greatsword with the butt of her staff. She flooded the wood with Scissor craft, aiming for the base of the blade close to the hilt.
SNAP!
The Hunter’s blade shattered just as she expected. Odile, reaching with her bad hand, grabbed the hunter by the helmet and cast Rock IV at point-blank range. His head popped like a grape, sending blood flying out of the closed helmet. With a slight smirk, she let the body drop to the ground and turned to check on the others.
_______________________________________
At the southern gate, Mirabelle raised her blade and gave a respectful salute before twirling her rapier as she was taught. Two Hunters charged with axes. Mirabelle reversed her grip, holding her blade horizontally. The heavy axes hit the slender rapier with a clang, but Mirabelle didn't budge.
"Pathetic," she whispered.
She shoved upward, throwing the brutes off balance. Then, as fast as lightning, she righted her grip and brought the blade down. Scissor craft pulsed through the steel as she cut through the first Hunter, her momentum carrying the blade through the second in one continuous, graceful arc. As she stepped forward, the two men fell behind her, separated into pieces.
"YOU WRETCHED, FILTHY GUA!" another Hunter screamed, rushing her with a longsword.
Mirabelle slammed her buckler, glowing with a shield skill she had been working on, into the incoming blade. The impact cracked the Hunter’s sword and sent her reeling.
Mirabelle thrust her blade forward, driving her rapier through the woman's chest. Blood spilled from the exit wound like a fountain.
Mirabelle planted a boot on her gut to kick the Hunter off her blade, flicking the rapier to try and get some of the blood off.
A Hunter with a war bow, angered by the deaths of his comrades, aimed at her from a distance. "Parry this, you filthy bit—" he called out, firing at her.
Mirabelle caught the arrow mid-flight. To her, it seemed to move in slow motion. She smirked, holding it like a dart. "You dropped this," she said politely, before hurling it back. The arrow buried itself in the archer’s throat, pinning them to a stack of crates they were standing in front of.
Mirabelle, not seeing any other Hunters, returned her attention to her blade before hearing something above and behind her. Turning and raising her rapier , a Hunter with a twinblade slammed down from above.
The impact forced Mirabelle’s own rapier back, cutting into her chest. She skidded back, frowning at the wound but mostly at her now-cut dress.
"Stars blind it! I just had Isabeau fix this!" she yelled, now truly furious.
The twinblade Hunter danced forward in a whirlwind of steel. Mirabelle leapt over the strike, spun on her heel, and lunged. The Hunter parried with the butt of her weapon.
They locked blades, then separated. The Hunter thrust at Mirabelle’s shoulder, but the Housemaiden caught the strike on her buckler, the blade digging into the wood and getting stuck.
Mirabelle thrust up her own weapon to try and stab at her opponent, but the Hunter grabbed the blade, not caring that it was cutting into their hand.
The Hunter slammed her forehead into Mirabelle’s face. Mirabelle flinched back a bit and blinked in utter bafflement at the weak attempt before returning the headbutt with one of her own with ten times the force. The Hunter hit the dirt, dazed. Mirabelle finished them quickly, still miffed about the state of her clothing.
________________________________________
Isabeau faced five Hunters with no small amount of trepidation: spear, halberd, flail, greatsword, and a man wielding a massive maul made of solid granite.
He frowned, looking at his brass knuckles. He was at a severe range disadvantage. He was very much regretting not getting a new weapon of his own when the others had gone shopping.
"Well," he muttered, a grin spreading across his face as he slammed his fists together. "If I want a weapon with more reach, I happen to have a whole armory right in front of me."
The flail user struck first. Isabeau stepped inside the guard, letting the heavy chain swing uselessly over his shoulder. He delivered a rapid-fire combination: right jab, left jab, and two gut checks. As the Hunter stumbled, Isabeau leaned into a massive right hook to the throat, sending the man flying into the spearman and knocking both to the floor.
The halberdier lunged. Isabeau stepped aside, grabbed the shaft of the weapon, and delivered a devastating uppercut that made the Hunter fly at least a foot off the ground.
As the Hunter fell, Isabeau’s fist met his chest, crushing his ribs and sending him crumbling to the dirt so hard he bounced before the Defender kicked the Hunter away like they were trash.
Isabeau caught the falling halberd and twirled it. It wasn't his preferred type of weapon, but it was better than the flail; those dangly bits would absolutely hit him or someone else he didn't want to hit. "Well, let's give this a try then."
The man with the granite maul swung his weapon. Isabeau tried to block with the halberd, but the wooden shaft shattered instantly against the stone. Guess that ruled out that option.
The blow caught Isabeau’s arm, knocking him back. His arm now dangled uselessly as the vampire looked at it in surprise. "Dislocated? How heavy is that thing?" he grunted, popping his shoulder back into its socket as his regeneration kicked in.
The Hunter hoisted the maul again, but Isabeau was faster. He lunged, punching straight through the man’s chest. With a wet squelch, he withdrew his arm and caught the granite maul before it hit the ground. He grunted at the heft. "How strong was that guy? This thing weighs a ton even for me!"
The remaining two Hunters, the spearman and the recovered flail user, rushed him.
Isabeau stepped back, letting the attacks miss, then swung the maul. It caught the flail user’s leg with a sickening crack, removing their kneecap privileges. The hunter dropped to the ground and, without pausing, he brought the hammer down on the man’s head before backhanding the spearman with the flat of the stone. The impact sent the Hunter flying across the fortress, where he hit the wall and became a mere smear.
Isabeau grinned and admired his new toy. "Oh yeah. I like this." The defender turned and saw his companions approaching him.
Odile and Mirabelle walked up to him, both looking fine aside from some flesh wounds that were probably already healed.
"Finally find something you like?" Odile asked with a smirk, having teased him endlessly for how picky he was when they went shopping.
"Yep! Heavy as sin," Isabeau grinned. "I think it's made of granite."
Mirabelle looked shocked and asked, "Stars, Isabeau, are you serious? How heavy is that thing?"
With a grin, the Defender answered truthfully, "Honestly, no idea!"
Odile rolled her eyes at the two before looking around. "Wait. Where's Siffrin?"
________________________________________
Siffrin took the stairs two at a time, his breath coming in steady hitches. Being out of throwing knives was a problem; he felt exposed without a ranged option, forced to rely entirely on getting close.
As he burst onto the second story landing halfway up the lighthouse, a blade hissed through the air. Siffrin ducked, the steel whistling just over his hat, and pivoted on the ball of his foot to center himself in the room.
Standing between Siffrin and the lighthouse stairs was a captain in ornate armor. He held a longsword with a rigid, professional grip.
"Perfect," Siffrin muttered, sarcasm bleeding through his words, spinning his dagger into a reverse grip. "A professional."
The Captain lunged with a series of formal, practiced thrusts. Siffrin stayed light on his toes, using his cloak to obscure his footwork.
He moved in close, remembering the words of his late master: "When you have the shorter blade, get in close."
He didn't try to block the heavy sword directly; instead, he used the flat of his dagger to parry the momentum, guiding the Captain’s blade into the stone walls or nearby furniture to keep him off-balance.
Siffrin saw an opening as the Captain overextended. He kicked a small stool into the man’s shins while simultaneously tossing his dagger at the Captain's helmet. It was a dirty trick, but it worked.
The Captain was caught flat-footed by the stool, making him stumble. The knife bounced off his helmet, breaking his rhythm. Siffrin darted in, intending to pin the man’s sword arm and deliver a quick strike to the temple to knock him out.
But as Siffrin’s hand grabbed the Captain’s forearm, intending to just squeeze a nerve to make the Captain drop his blade, there was a sickening CRUNCH. The Captain’s arm snapped like a dry branch.
Siffrin winced, his eyes widening. He still didn't know why one day he just woke up so much stronger than before. He just wanted to loosen the Hunter's grip, not shatter his arm.
The Captain let out a strangled cry, dropping his sword and reaching for a hidden dagger with his good hand. Siffrin reacted on instinct. He slid into the Captain's guard and delivered a jagged palm strike to the base of his skull.
The Captain’s head snapped upward, his jaw clicking shut, the spurt of blood telling the rogue the captain had bit their tongue. Siffrin finished the motion by twirling around the Hunter, kicking the noble’s fallen longsword into his hand and driving it through the man's back.
Siffrin didn't stay to watch him fall. He grabbed his thrown dagger out of the air as it fell before bolting back up the steps, chasing after the other Hunter once more.
Reaching the top, Siffrin saw the Hunter he was chasing flick the lighthouse light off. Siffrin threw his knife with a full-body snap, putting all that new, terrifying power behind the tiny blade. It whistled through the air like a bolt, burying itself in the back of the scout’s skull.
The man dropped. Siffrin reached the top, panting, and looked at the lighthouse. The signal was already lit, casting its beam across the dark valley.
On a small table sat the logbook. Siffrin’s stomach dropped as he read: "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK." Under it was a code on what to flash to tell this specific message:
... --- ...
"Blind it all!" Siffrin swore. He slammed a fist onto the heavy oak desk in frustration, turning it to splinters.
_______________________________________
When the group reunited, Siffrin looked grim. He held up the book.
"I was too slow. The King knows we're coming, assuming he didn't know already."
Isabeau put a heavy hand on the rogue's shoulder. "Now, I'm sure that's a road you'd love to go down right now buddy, but it's best you don't. The King probably already knew about us."
"Indeed," Odile added, patting Siffrin’s head. "It’s unlikely he was ever truly in the dark about us or our goal. No need to beat yourself up."
"Are you hurt, Siffrin?" Mirabelle asked, checking him for wounds.
Siffrin looked at himself for a moment before shaking his head. "I’m fine, Mira. What about the rest of you?" Siffrin then noticed Isabeau's arm was absolutely covered in blood, his eyes shooting open. "ISA, WHAT THE STARS HAPPENED TO YOU?"
The Defender panicked with a flush, holding up his hands in defense. "It's not my blood! I punched a guy's heart out is all! Worst I got was a dislocated shoulder, but I'm all good now," Isabeau said, rolling his right shoulder to show it.
Chuckling at the display, Odile reported, "Took a bolt also in the shoulder, but it’s healed," motioning to the small blood stain on her clothes. Turning to Isabeau, she added, "You better clean that off before Boniface sees you, Isabeau. I don't need them screaming like Siffrin."
The Defender raised his hands. "I will, I will."
Mirabelle pouted, pointing at the tear in her fabric. "I wish I’d been hit. It’s just my dress that’s ruined. That’s twenty now! Don't these Hunters know how expensive combat dresses are?"
The group shared a small, weary laugh. After a moment the group separated, Isabeau went to the barracks—the fire had died down by this point—to search for anything useful.
Odile went into the lighthouse to check for any information the group or local Defenders might need. Siffrin went around grabbing his throwing knives and looting the corpses for any coins or loose trinkets. Corpse robbing wasn't Siffrins preferred method of getting money but the spoils of war and all that nonsense.
Mirabelle left to get Bonnie and take them around the fort to the north to avoid looking at the bloodbath inside. Just because Bonnie had joined them didn't mean they had to shove the reality of their work in the young fledgling's face.
Once the three still in the fort had finished, Odile whistled over Isabeau and Siffrin. "You two, before we leave, I want to do something as a precaution. We can do something to slow down the Hunters sent to reinforce this place. When they arrive, a detachment of them is going to come after us, so let's make sure they have something else to do."
"What did you have in mind, M’dam?" Isabeau asked, crossing his arms. His new maul was now across his back, held in a basic patchwork holster.
Odile gave an absolutely feral smirk as she took her staff and tapped at the wall of the lighthouse. "The three of us are going to break this lighthouse down, right here, right now."
Siffrin's eyes bulged. "You sure we can, Odile? This thing is really solid."
Isabeau, with a grin, opened his mouth, but Odile shot him a sharp glare. "If you say 'solid as a rock,' Isabeau, you will never eat another meal without peppers for as long as I am alive."
The Defender just gave a cheeky smile. "Imma still think it, though."
Grumbling, the elder vampire turned to Siffrin. "To answer your question, Siffrin, yes, I think the three of us can. Though we're gonna need a little ahh boost, as it were..."
Siffrin looked confused before his face flushed shrinking in on themselves and shifting on the balls of his feet. His stance and demeanor switching on a dime from the confident rouge to a shy bumbling blushy kitten. He always got like this when they asked for his blood.
Odile smiled; as always, their little human was absolutely adorable when he was flustered. She took a half step forward before taking a knee before them, she slowly laid a hand on Siffrin’s shoulder and leaned in, asking with a soft whisper, "Siffrin, could I please have some of your blood?"
The human gulped but nodded his head, granting permission. Odile leaned in, sliding his cloak and tilting his head back to expose her mark sitting proudly on his neck. She let traces of her venom coat her tongue before licking the spot where she intended to reclaim what was hers.
Siffrin shivered a bit at the contact as he always did a mixture of excitement and nervousness, she didn't blame him for the later nobody liked pain they could expect even if her venom insured it didn't hurt, but she knew what she was doing. As the area numbed around her bite she sunk her fangs in gently more of her numbing agent filling the wound before Odile let the divine light of Siffrins blood fill her once again.
Closing her eyes for but a moment, Odile let herself fall into a brief moment of pure bliss, as a mouth full of her anchor filled her once again. Unfortunately that's all she could do at the moment, letting her teeth out she licked Siffrin's neck to seal the wound close.
Standing Odile let the power of her humans blood fill her veins it set her alight as she flexed her muscles now filled with new energy. She smiled at Siffrin "thank you, Siffrin as always."
Turning to the defender she motioned for him to wait a second to let Siffrin recover giving the rogue a shot of sweet potion to recover quicker.
Siffrin was flushed and blushy and absolutely adorable looking swaying slightly due to the remaining bits of venom in him. They eventually downed the potion and soon was looking relatively back to normal.
Siffrin, still blushy, nodded his head and lifted his hand for the Defender, who took it gladly. Taking the hand, the vampire gently kissed the human's knuckles with reverence that bordered on worship.
Sliding back the sleeve revealed Isabeau's own scared mark to the world once more. Isabeau licked Siffrin's wrist with traces of his venom to numb the area. Isabeau let his fangs sink into Siffrins wrist letting it nestle nicely in the vein before he started drinking in Siffrin's blood. Isabeau couldn't help but keen as the living miracle filled his mouth once more.
He drank slowly wanting to draw this out as much as he could, but the defender knew he couldn't so once they had a mouth full after licking Siffrins wound close, they swallowed feeling the divine lighting flood their veins as they stood grinning.
Isabeau grabbed his maul and Odile grabbed her staff, facing the wall of the lighthouse. Before they struck, they both turned to Siffrin, both sporting smiles.
"Thank you once again for such a gift, Siffrin," Odile told the human.
"Thanks a bunch, Sif! You're the greatest!" Isabeau said as well.
Siffrin flushed even harder. "You... you're welcome," the rogue answered a small loving smile on their face as they swayed happy as can be.
Both vampires just paused for a moment, just standing there for a spell looking at the absolute cute perfection that was all of Siffrin. Then craft flooded their bodies so intensely that their weapons began to hum and glow with a blinding light. They struck the wall not with a simple hit, but with a catastrophic release of energy. The entire base of the tower didn't just break; it shattered into fine dust. The sound was deafening as the weight of the structure collapsed into itself.
When they finally left the fort, Bonnie rushed to them. "What the stars was that?! Me and Belle..... or I mean, Belle and I heard a big boom and suddenly the big tower is just gone!"
Odile's face flushed a bit. "Just a mild case of cuteness aggression, don't worry about it, Boniface," the researcher said, wiping away the last bits of Siffrin's blood with a cloth.
"So," Bonnie asked after a while, looking back at the smoking ruins. "Since the fortress is down, and the army can't get messages from the King anymore, does that mean the King’s army is finished? Can't we just stay here and wait for the Hunters to die out?"
"Ill-advised, Boniface," Odile sighed. "We don't have the manpower to hold this place, and we don't know if the northern fort fell."
"And we don't know the total size of the King’s army," Siffrin added. "We don't know how many troops he might still have or if there are plans to summon reinforcements."
Isabeau stepped in to finish it. "Beyond all that, Vaugarde’s Defenders are stretched thin. Only a few dozen well-trained Defenders are left to fight. Everyone else fighting is either militia soldiers or vampires desperate to survive."
Mirabelle sighed. "The information we were able to get paints a grim picture, too. It takes three of them to best one Hunter. We have to keep moving. If we can kill the King, the Hunters will have no reason to fight and will flee Vaugarde to survive."
Bonnie nodded solemnly. "So no choice, huh?"
Mirabelle turned toward the north, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "Only one way to stop this war."
In the distance, the town of Doormont sat shrouded in shadow. Above it, the House of Change remained encased in a lightless barrier, holding the King within.
"There it is," the Housemaiden whispered, looking at the home she hadn't seen in over a year. "Once we arrive, we end this. Once and for all."