"Sometimes, you just have to admit it—there's some truth to the wisdom of old folks," Solomon quipped as he sidestepped an attacking creature's razor-sharp claws. He delivered a sharp kick to the vampire spawn's knee, which snapped with an audible crunch. As the monster began to fall away from the plane's hull, Solomon stomped down on its twisted leg, pinning it in place. He plunged his blade into the creature's chest, letting it greedily drink its blood and soul before releasing his grip.
The spawn, now withered and drained, was caught by the howling winds and hurled into the abyss below.
His attempt at humor didn't land. The android didn't understand jokes—or if she did, she never bothered to laugh—and Captain Rogers was too busy bashing in the head of another creature with the edge of his shield to comment.
The air around the airborne command bus grew increasingly turbulent as dense storm clouds enveloped the plane. Sparks of lightning flared behind the craft, their thunderous roars growing louder and closer. The gray skies deepened to a foreboding leaden hue as bolts of electricity began to dance through the clouds, illuminating the shapes of the winged horrors swarming the aircraft.
May piloted the bus with practiced precision, pulling it sharply out of the storm clouds. For a brief, dazzling moment, the plane breached the cloud cover and entered a sea of moonlight. The overlarge full moon hung in the sky like an ethereal sentinel, casting silvery light across the rippling expanse of clouds below.
The sudden change in light startled the creatures clinging to the aircraft, causing many to lose their grip and plummet back into the storm. This gave Solomon and Rogers a brief respite, but the sorcerer's relief quickly faded.
The full moon. Feminine energy. Vampire spawn.
It all clicked. Solomon's heart sank as he pieced together the clues. There was no longer any doubt who was behind this attack. The only being powerful enough to command these nearly-extinct horrors, to rally them from the shadows of deep mountain crevices, was none other than Lilith, the ancient progenitor of vampires.
As if summoned by his thoughts, a dark, swirling mist coalesced on the plane's surface. Within moments, the fog took the shape of a man—tall, broad-shouldered, and impossibly elegant.
When the mist dispersed, the man stood revealed: his alabaster skin gleamed coldly under the moonlight, almost unnaturally pale. He was dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit, his dark brown hair slicked back perfectly, unruffled by the roaring winds. A faint sneer curled his lips as his piercing gaze locked onto Solomon. The insignia of a crossed scepter glimmered on the tie clip fastened to his chest—a symbol Solomon immediately recognized.
"Zenos Vantro," the sorcerer muttered under his breath.
The name sent a jolt through Solomon's mind. The man standing before him wasn't just any vampire; he was a high-ranking member of the Vantro clan, one of the secretive factions descended from Lilith and Cain. These bloodlines were nothing like Dracula's lineage; they were ancient and shrouded in secrecy, their existence hidden from the modern world.
The creatures that had attacked earlier—those grotesque, twisted vampire spawn—likely belonged to the Nosferatu clan, while the blood mage he'd encountered earlier might have been aligned with the Tremere clan, notorious for their mastery of blood magic.
This coalition of clans, known as the Camarilla, were reclusive by nature, avoiding exposure to the world of men. But now, under Lilith's banner, they were stepping out of the shadows. And the appearance of Zenos Vantro, likely the head of his family, confirmed it.
"I bring a message from the supreme goddess, Lilith," Zenos declared, his voice booming over the howling winds. "Solomon Damonet, if you are willing to honor the covenant of a thousand years past and return to the embrace of our goddess…"
"I do love mature women," Solomon interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "but unfortunately, I'm already engaged."
Flames crackled to life in the sorcerer's hands, their orange-red light casting flickering shadows across his face.
"Do me a favor and let her know I'm declining her invitation. Besides, the age gap is just too big. Over a thousand years? No thanks. A hundred? Maybe. A thousand? Hard pass."
Captain Rogers, busy smashing the skull of another spawn, shot Solomon a baffled look. He still couldn't figure out how the sorcerer's mind worked.
Zenos' expression darkened, his pale features contorting in barely contained rage. With a wave of his hand, the vampire spawn resumed their assault, their screeches filling the night. Rogers moved to engage the swarm, his shield raised high, while Solomon and the android advanced toward Zenos.
The sorcerer conjured a flaming spear and hurled it with all his might, aiming straight for Zenos' chest. The android leaped forward, her massive blade swinging down in a deadly arc.
But both attacks struck only mist.
Zenos reappeared behind Solomon, his movements a blur. But the sorcerer was ready. Anticipating the ambush, he pivoted sharply, driving his elbow backward into the vampire's arm while drawing a short blade with his other hand.
CRACK.
The elbow strike connected with a meaty thud, though Zenos managed to block the full force of the blow. Solomon followed up with a quick feint, the short blade slicing toward the vampire's neck. Zenos dodged the strike, but the sorcerer pressed on, delivering a rapid series of punches and slashes.
Each movement was calculated, precise—ten years of martial training distilled into instinctive action.
The dagger found its mark, carving a deep gash across Zenos' torso. Dark, viscous blood oozed from the wound, swept away by the roaring winds. The vampire hissed in pain, his rage boiling over as the enchanted blade siphoned away his vitality and soul.
But Zenos wasn't done yet.
As Solomon moved in for another strike, the vampire dissolved into mist once more, evading the attack. When he reappeared, he was standing on the plane's wing, his silhouette framed by the pale light of the moon.
Blood still poured from his wounds, staining his once-pristine suit. But despite his injuries, a cruel smile spread across his charred face.
Before Solomon could react, Zenos crouched low, his clawed hand tearing into the wing's metal plating.
The next moment, the engine exploded.
The detonation sent a shower of fire and debris cascading through the night sky. One of the plane's wings was torn asunder, and the airborne command bus began to spiral downward, thick smoke trailing from its wreckage.
Solomon and the android managed to maintain their footing thanks to their enchantments, but Captain Rogers wasn't as fortunate. The tether attached to his waist jerked violently, slamming him against the plane's hull. He struggled to regain his balance as the aircraft plunged into the storm clouds below.
And then, something impossible happened.
A massive crimson gate materialized beneath the falling plane, its surface swirling with dark energy. From the gate emerged a grotesque, pale hand with elongated red claws, its fingers stretching toward the tumbling aircraft.
Solomon's eyes narrowed as he began to cast a teleportation spell, ready to call for reinforcements. But before he could finish, another hand burst from the clouds—a radiant, alabaster-white hand adorned with intricate moth-like patterns.
The white hand caught the aircraft in its palm, stopping its descent.
A second hand, this one violet with butterfly motifs, clenched into a fist and slammed into the crimson claw, sending it recoiling back into the gate.
From above, a familiar, sultry voice rang out:
"Bitch! That man doesn't belong to you!"
[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! Only $5 per novel or $15 for all!!] [[email protected]/Mutter]
[+50 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]
[+5 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]