NOVEL NEXT Book 10 Chapter 24
Joan skidded to a stop in front of the statue, sending a bit of mud flying when she did it but managing to not fall on her butt. She hoped it looked as impressive as it felt. Then again, with time stopped it wasn't like Qakog and Bauteut could see her.
Her lungs burned, but she had an idea. Penthe had to be on her way now, or was likely in one of the ice spheres. Chase's ice was powerful, but there was no way it could hold up that long against Penthe trying to get out. All she had to do was keep her distance. She'd fought and killed dozens of vampires before, all she had to do was make sure she didn't look him in the eyes, kept enough distance so his incredible strength didn't get a hold of her and try and ensure if he had any other tricks they didn't catch her by surprise. She had this.
She glanced back and he was there, bending down slightly, his nose nearly touching hers.
Joan squeaked and quickly lowered her gaze, focusing on his mouth before stepping back. She swung the staff with all her might, but he merely lifted a hand up and caught it. To both of their surprise, it didn't really slow much and he was sent skidding along the ground before he stood up and let go.
"You shouldn't be able to move," the vampire said. "What are you?"
"Joan," Joan said, taking another step back. Keeping her eyes lowered, focusing on his chest. "Human. Possibly a bit of a hag. Practical joke of the fates."
"You aren't the Guide," the vampire said, his hands crossing behind himself. "The ice. Collapsing my gauntlet. Are you one of the Chosen?"
"I'm not THE Guide, but I can still be A guide," Joan said, taking another step back and trying to move around the statue, to keep it between them. The vampire followed closely, though moving just a hint slower. She had the vague feeling of someone playing with their food.
"But you're not the Guide," the vampire said. "Are you one of the Chosen? Did you do this?" He then stomped in one of the puddles, sending mud everywhere.
"No," Joan said. "I'm pretty sure that was Chase. He's one of the Chosen. And he's on his way, he—"
"So you're NOT a Chosen? You're not one of this world's gods?" the vampire said. "Perhaps the Demon Lord, even?"
Joan couldn't be sure, but she almost swore she could hear hope in his words. Was he looking for the Demon Lord? Well, let it never be said by the fates she wouldn't take an opportunity given to her, when she could. "And if I am the Demon Lord?" Joan asked. "Who are you?"
"Saga," the vampire said. "The Devourer of Night and Piercer of the Heavens. You can move now, even when the Hourglass is turned. I had heard the Demon Lord was powerful, but I never imagined. It has been centuries since I feasted on the life of a god."
Joan had only a moment to react when he lunged. He was fast, far faster than her.
But he was nowhere near as fast as a Chosen. More importantly, she had more than a few tricks. She let the staff go, moving it between the two of them and when he slammed into it he let out a pained, surprised gasp. It only stopped him for a moment, but that was enough time to utter the incantation before gathering up the water surrounding her launch it at him, forming shards of ice in a wild flurry.
He seemed to melt into shadows, flowing back and away from her before seeming to regather himself.
Joan stepped forward, gripping the staff and yanking it back to her. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm no god. I'm no Demon Lord, either. I'm just a normal girl who is in way over her head. Again."
"One not tied to the fates of this world?" Saga asked, not making another move towards her yet. "Yet you claim to be just… mundane?"
"I said normal," Joan said. "Maybe not mundane. I've got a lot of awesome friends. Like the Chosen. I don't suppose I can like, convince you to stop being a jerk? I mean… Chase is going to tear you apart if you hurt me. He—"
"Chase, Chase," Saga said, taking a slow step towards her. She quickly took two steps back. "The Chosen? One of the gods?"
"Yessss?" Joan said softly. "Trust me, the last vampire who faced one of them didn't do so well. She—"
"You really are of this world, aren't you?" Saga asked, his voice disappointed now. "Pathetic, I had hoped you were something… fun. But I suppose you will merely serve as bait."
"Bait?" Joan asked, holding the staff pointed at him. "I'll be honest. I'm fine being bait, you wouldn't even be the first thing that tried to use me as bait for the Chosen. Well, kind of. But—"
"Enough," Saga said dismissively. He then turned his back to her.
"JOAN!" Bauteut's voice rang out, making Joan jump and look towards Bauteut and Qakog. Time was moving!
Joan activated the bracer, a glowing shield of light and fire surrounding her. Saga yanked back, his hands just a few hair's breadths from her throat. She panted lightly, her heart pounding, staring at him. He was slightly burned from the shield, but he now stood outside it.
"Fascinating," Saga said. "Yet you call yourself normal. Nothing of this world is normal. In this world, your gods walk amongst you, they fight before you. They join with armies and clash with other gods, beings the like of which none could ever hope to imagine in most worlds. Yet here, they are almost common. Weaving themselves into the lives of all they can touch. You survive amidst gods and you call yourself normal?"
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"A-a bit, yeah," Joan said, taking another step back. She wondered how long that shield would hold him off. "It turns out that being around gods all the time? It can be quite humbling. You learn how insignificant you are."
"I once felt like that," Saga said, the vampire beginning to circle her, moving around the edge of the barrier. "The gods were untouchable. I fought for them. I bled for them. And when the time came?"
A small, silver dagger appeared in his hand and he slashed once across the barrier.
Joan screamed, her arm feeling as if it was suddenly on fire. The shield sputtered out, the bracer glowing red hot. She reached out, trying to grip it with her other hand, but touching it made her hand burn.
Then Saga was there, his right hand gripping her wrist while his left reached out and tore the bracer from her arm. Her skin was red and burned under it, but that was the least of her worries as she looked into his eyes.
"I fed on them," Saga said. "The gods of this world walk amongst you. And they will be fed on as well."
Joan gave another scream when his hand moved up the arm, gripping and squeezing the fresh burns. She tried to reach out to grip her staff with her other hand, but he gripped her wrist a moment later.
"Bait," Saga said. "Call the gods, call Chase, to me. Or perish." He then began to tighten his grip on her arm.
Joan screamed as pain coursed through her arm, so bright it almost seared her vision. For a moment she wondered if she'd pass out from the pain, but then he let her go.
Spears of ice shot past her, lodging into the ground and one slashing a nasty gash against Saga's arm. The vampire leaped back, barely avoiding more spears of ice.
Joan looked towards the tunnel and froze.
Chase. But she'd never seen him like this. He so often wore masks, but this? There was no mask there. There was just fury, hatred and a desire to destroy. At first she thought he was wreathed in water, but after a moment she realized it was magic. The magic at his fingertips so strong it was visible. He flicked his hand and more shards of ice launched at the vampire, but this time they didn't stop. Saga ran and leaped as the path behind him was filled with spears of ice longer than he was tall. The vampire finally seemed to turn to mist, fading out before the spears could pierce them.
Chase finally relented and the vampire reformed, a low chuckle coming from him. "Finally I see my foe, this Chase," Saga said. "The power of a god truly—"
The shards of ice exploded. In an instant, the vampire was pierced through a dozen places. For a moment, Joan expected him to disappear into smoke or say something, but he didn't.
Instead, after a few moments, he collapsed to the ground, dead.
"That was easier than I expected," Joan said. "I thought—"
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The sphere of light tumbled and rolled, slower and slower, as the roar died down. Gradually, the sphere came to a delicate, gentle stop.
"W-what?" Joan asked, looking around.
"I have no idea," Bauteut said, weakly. "How is everyone?"
"F-fine," Qakog said before collapsing. The sphere disappeared a moment later, dropping them into the mud again. He let out a soft groan.
"What?" Joan asked again before looking down at her arm. The bracer was still there, no burns.
"Joan? Are you okay?" Bauteut asked.
"Y-yes," Joan said, gripping the staff tighter. It was here. Which meant any moment time was going to stop. She stared up the stairs at the vampire. He was staring at the tunnel again.
Any moment.
Aaaaaany moment.
"Joan?" Bauteut asked.
"It's going to be okay," Joan said.
Time didn't stop, though.
Then there was ice and water. One moment silence, the next a veritable avalanche of ice came roaring out of the tunnel, with Chase amongst it. The vampire dashed down the stairs a moment later, narrowly avoiding a spike of ice and then leaping into the air. He turned to smoke before another wave of ice could pierce him, reappearing on the ground.
Only to be caught by tendrils of water rising from below, wrapping around his arms and legs.
Joan relaxed, giving a small smile. Chase caught him, he--
Bauteut let out a gasp of horror when the tendrils suddenly pulled in all directions, literally tearing the vampire to pieces. Joan couldn't even move, her eyes wide with horror.
Why? Chase had him caught. Chase WON! He didn't have to do that. Chase never--
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The sphere of light tumbled and rolled, slower and slower, as the roar died down. Gradually, the sphere came to a delicate, gentle stop.
Joan just stared out, numbly, ignoring Bauteut's question and Qakog's collapse.
Chase wouldn't do that. Chase wasn't a killer, he certainly wasn't that kind of killer. He was one of the most gentle people he knew. Sure, he COULD kill, but it was always a means to an end. Something that had to be done.
But that death had been…
Then it happened again.
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And again.
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And again.
Joan watched helplessly as Chase tore the vampire apart. Mercilessly, viciously, violently tearing the monster to pieces. Furious in a way she had never seen Chase.
But each time it was different. The vampire, Saga, was learning.
He was redoing the fight. Over and over again.
Until he could win.