If there was anything that dissatisfied him about being a servant of the night, it was that there was no changing of the guard. Elders of dizzying age continued to hold sway—if you wanted to move up in the world, you had to get rid of them physically.
Machiavellian masquerades, then, were the order of the day…
But what of it? It lasts but a moment.
Now that he was a servant of that god, it would be only a matter of time until he possessed more than enough power to rid himself of that lot. And to a vampire, time was always an ally…
“I warn you, if you’re hoping for rescue, you hope in vain!” That, the vampire assumed, was why they weren’t moving. He even spared a chuckle. “The capital will be in shambles by now. Wait as long as you like, they will never—”
“Don’t be stupid.”
The voice was casual, almost mechanical, like a wind blowing deep underground. The vampire should never have been able to hear it, yet somehow it reached his ears.
With his literally monstrous vision, he spotted his prey leaping out of the passageway faster than the speed of sound. “There are adventurers in the capital,” said the adventurer buried in the grimy armor, his voice almost a growl. “Adventurers far greater than I.”
“Clean water, dirty water, mixed together like cloudy weather, nothing can be seen through!”
At that same moment, a rotund little dwarf scattered the contents of a wine jug at his hip while singing a silly little song. The droplets fsshed and fzzed and became a clinging mist that filled the shrine.
Absurdity!
Nonetheless, the vampire’s smile remained like a crimson tear in his face. No doubt the dwarf had used Invisible or some other trick like that. Yes, that might have worked on the likes of goblins. But him?
They have no idea why vampires can see in the dark, do they?
The world vampires saw was not one bathed in light. Vampires saw heat. They saw life. Their senses were spiritual in nature; they didn’t depend upon their physical eyes.
Even if those droplets were magical, it was an affront that the adventurers had imagined they would be of any use.
Ah, what fools these mortals be…
Now the vampire knew victory was within his grasp, and he had no time to hiss and spit about a childish prank like this.
“Enough of this!”
He swept away the arrows that came flying at him through the mist, then bounded forward. He could tell there were flickering flames racing at him like lightning through the mists of Invisible from left and right. It must be that impertinent creature who spoke to him a moment ago. That must be their leader. Yes, kill him first.
The scruffy armor emerged from the mist. The vampire’s sword was raised and ready.
He would cleave him apart with a single stroke. Crush his head like an overripe melon and trample on his corpse.
“Now you die!” the vampire bellowed and reduced his opponent to dust. His opponent, who was only a pile of white bones. “Wha—?!”
The vampire looked in every direction: Much against his will, he found his eyes forced to follow the pieces as they scattered.
He didn’t know what had happened. He was sure that an instant ago, he had been fighting their leader, the one they referred to as Goblin Slayer or some such thing. And now, in his place, there were only bones.
A dragon’s skull. A dragon soldier. Fine—but where had it come from? Had it taken the adventurer’s place? When had they made the switch?
No! That isn’t what happened…
He spotted the small pouch the man was holding. Its mouth was open, and the dragon soldier was emerging from it…
“A bag for holding?!” the vampire yelled. In temporal terms, he was frozen for less than a second. “So I missed a single move—so what?!”
“One move is all I need.” The steel helmet was close now, with that darkness behind its visor. That growling voice. “I’m told you’re a corpse—is that right?”
The next second, the vampire felt the bag come down on his head.
“Whaaaaaa—?!”
He didn’t even have time to finish his howl before the bag slipped over him, swallowing him up. A world of blackness, even for this servant of the night who could see in the dark. No sound, no air. He could scratch and scrabble, but it gained him nothing. As he watched, his arms, his torso, his legs were all consumed by the bag.
“In that case, I can put you away,” came a voice from behind and above, like a sentence of death. “Because you are just a thing.”
“No! Undone by the machinations of a mere munchkin…!”
The vampire rained curses on the heads of his enemies, but they never made it out of the bag. Soon he was lost to the endless void.
“Farewell,” came the voice, and then with merciful quickness, all light vanished.