Breathe deeply. . Analyze every muscle, every microexpression, every vibration in the air that betrays intention.

  Whoever that woman is, she is clearly a danger. Don’t blink. Don’t hesitate. If you have to kill her, do it. Burn the body, throw it into the lake, it doesn’t matter what will happen afterward. The future is a problem that solves itself if you survive the present.

  Just follow the damn order, and finish the enemy.

  "Aren't you starting?" Elfrana asked with false friendliness, maintaining her ready stance, the scythe resting on her shoulder as if it were a natural extension of her arm. "Come on, did I make you shy~? Sorry, next time I’ll apply more energy to your face!" she laughed low, mocking, as if speaking about a private joke.

  The soft winter wind moved their coats. Elfrana’s torn cloak, with her figure holding that sickly scythe, was a clear banner of death waving in the middle of the forest; while Feralynn barely slid her boot over the snow, testing the ground, the black jacket faithfully clinging to her body like a second skin.

  Stiff, rigid, controlling her breathing.

  Inhale. Exhale.

  Her red eyes scanned the improvised arena: she didn’t have many escape routes; only trees, thick trunks, open snowy field. It didn’t look good at all. There was nowhere to hide and launch a surprise attack; the bushes wouldn’t work, and something inside Fer told her that woman, or thing, could detect her even if she tried. That dark mana vibrated with awareness.

  "She waited until I was too far away to attack me." she murmured, squeezing the handle of the combat knife until her knuckles turned as white as the frozen ground. "Fuck..."

  She recognized the hunter instinct. It was something she would’ve done without a doubt if she were in the trenches: Wait for isolation. Separate from the group. Attack without witnesses. Maybe she’d already done it many times, even if her mind denied everything for its own sake.

  "I’m waiting~!"

  Throwing fire would imply spending mana; spending energy. Even if Fer had plenty to spare, if she exceeded her stress level, the seal would activate; canceling everything instantly, leaving her vulnerable, naked before something that didn’t seem human.

  Every drop had to be saved.

  "Fire Style." she said firmly, without breaking eye contact with Elfrana’s hungry amethysts. "Flame Investiture."

  Fwoosh…!

  She brought her free hand over the blade of her knife, bathing it in dense and compact flames that clung to the metal as if claiming it. They soaked the edge completely. Shaking it, submerging it in water, or in blood, wouldn’t be enough to extinguish it. It was disciplined fire, obedient to the weapon of its bearer.

  "Hehe, you’re not as empty-headed as you pretend." Elfrana thought, licking her lips and tightening her grip on her weapon, the metal of the shaft creaking under her hold. "Come on, attack me already! We still have some time before the sun comes out..."

  For centuries mages had done this to save mana: letting the weapon imbued with magic complement the physical effort. If Feralynn couldn’t risk running dry, then she would use all her skill, every lesson learned with sweat.

  "Seems like you're finally getting it!" Elfrana shouted, emphasizing her posture to launch forward, her weight leaning ahead. Then she lowered her voice, tempting. "Ready~?"

  Fer cracked her neck to both sides,

  "Come." and without meaning to, a slight curve appeared on her lips, cold and sharp. "Piece of shit."

  Elfrana laughed low, crouched her body further—

  SHNK!

  In a blink the blades collided, sparks and flames jumping as if a giant blacksmith were drunk hammering his sword against raw steel.

  Fer stepped back several paces, miraculously not slipping while her flaming blade kept dueling the condemned black steel of Elfrana. A distance of faces unbearable, Elfrana’s breath reeked of death, fermented viscera; those fangs in each canine gave Fer an unsettling spine-chill that ran down her back.

  "TIME TO SKIN!" Elfrana shouted, withdrawing her attack to unleash an assault of wide cuts, the scythe whistling in lethal arcs. "COME ON, FER, COME ON!"

  Feralynn snorted in annoyance, dodging her vertical attacks with minimal movement and countering the horizontal ones with the weight of the reinforced blade, letting the flaming edge clash against the shaft before the black blade reached her flesh.

  "CAN YOU STOP SCREAMING LIKE A FUCKING CRAZY GOAT?!" Fer barked, dodging by millimeters a descending cut that split a trunk behind her. She made a face of disgust at Elfrana’s lunatic laughter. "Is she high or what?!"

  It wasn't the first time she had been attacked, and this showed her that it would not be the last in this beautiful dance to see who would give in first. If there had been spectators, they would have had their hands gripping the edge of the armrests of their seats from the rapid intensity with which they moved, unable to follow the exchange without holding their breath.

  Both left a humanoid shadow of their black clothes as they moved, a blurred trail between fire and electricity. Elfrana was enjoying every moment, admiring Fer’s trained reflexes, smiling at her with twisted grimaces that mixed admiration and hunger.

  SHNKK!!!

  "YES, YES, DODGE, RUN, JUMP, DO IT!"

  Each scythe strike from Elfrana aimed at Feralynn’s limbs: legs, arms. She wanted to reduce her to nothing more than a torso and a head. After all, as long as she remained alive enough and recognizable, that would be enough.

  "AHAHAHAHA!"

  Inside she had to admit she was having fun since she woke up in that crypt. Centuries in captivity, sleeping. Locked away by the Ancient heralds of Isdran to prevent anyone from awakening the fierce Butcher of Dracovyr.

  Feralynn had her veins pumping pure adrenaline, completely outmatched in speed. She couldn’t release any sarcasm now, every fiber of air went to her lungs so they could keep giving her the breath necessary to dodge the cuts.

  SHNK!

  SHNK!

  SHNK!

  She panted, if it weren’t because she’d spent her entire life training, her quadriceps would be destroyed from so much dodging by crouching in feints, jumping, running. Every tree Elfrana struck was sliced as if it were made of soft butter, and her weapon a burning knife of electricity.

  "Fuck! What the hell is this woman?!" Fer thought, her red eyes not blinking as she tried to follow the sick speed. "How the fuck does she not get tired?!"

  Every attempt by Fer to approach was frustrated; Elfrana waited with her free arm wrapped in electricity to paralyze her. Her wrists twisted, adjusting the long handle of the instrument to bend its direction and keep amputating anything that dared kiss her cursed blade.

  Feralynn couldn’t do anything but retreat, block with the dagger, jump backward and move toward the entrance of the forest, until she noticed it: the uncovered window left when she moved her arms that way.

  "FUCK IT, NOW!"

  STAB!

  "WHAT?!"

  What Elfrana had in savage brute strength, Fer compensated in direct precision.

  "UGH!"

  Instead of retreating, Fer moved even closer to her, breaking the ideal distance of the long weapon.

  "FUCKING DIE YOU BITCH!"

  Scythes require wide arm maneuvers, even more when they’re heavy attacks. Feralynn took advantage noticing that Elfrana had to move them diagonally a second longer than necessary, exposing her center for critical fractions.

  In a feint she lowered her body to avoid a horizontal cut that whistled above her back and launched toward her with knife in hand.

  STAB! STAB! STAB!

  Lungs. Liver. Larynx. Even the heart.

  "GACKH–!"

  Fer buried the flaming blade and pulled it out immediately with surgical efficiency. Thanks to her spell the flames burned all fat and flesh on contact, preventing the weapon from losing its edge, leaving clean smoking holes.

  Elfrana ended up with no less than eight deep perforations in vital zones, precise, direct. It was as if she’d been pierced by execution darts. Fer finished with an explosive fire kick so intense on her torso that it launched her several meters into the snow, leaving a smoking trail and purple blood that stained the entire path like spilled ink.

  Fer had stepped back, still maintaining her stance, the knife low, her chest rising and falling.

  "Haah… haah… shit…!" she panted, the tips of her fingers trembling with pure adrenaline. "Fuck…!"

  She had just killed a civilian, or a person, or a thing. Whatever it was, but she killed it. She brought her free hand to her face, and it terrified her to realize she was smiling, her cheeks cramped in a euphoric spasm. She looked at Elfrana’s inert body, her scythe still held in her hand, fallen to one side.

  "..."

  Disoriented, Elfrana remained staring at the cloudy sky, feeling her blood escape from her in heaps. She fell to the ground with the icy face of a broken doll, and smiled as if she had received the best birthday gift.

  "Her weapon isn’t blessed…" she muttered, with barely contained joy, her voice vibrating between her stained teeth. "Haah~, this is paradise."

  Feralynn frowned, shock running through her as she watched Elfrana rise from the purple puddle, using the handle of her weapon as support. With clumsy movements, almost theatrical, she recomposed herself, and lifted her gaze toward her with sick adoration.

  "I think I love you." Elfrana said, wiping the blood with the back of her hand.

  Fer, horrified, stepped back two paces, the knife barely trembling in her hand.

  No… no! What the hell, how the fuck is she still alive?! It made no sense, none! What kind of human survives eight direct stabs to the organs and the neck?!

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  "You gotta be shitting me…"

  Elfrana’s open wounds closed with deliberate slowness, the flesh joining, the skin regenerating as if time rewrote itself just so Fer could see it. Clothes even being repaired under a tiny black fire almost imperceptible through the fabric. That was when she saw her lips being licked again by that long purple tongue, lubricating her four canine fangs.

  "Take a good guess." she licked her fangs slowly. "What you think I am?"

  She hadn’t used any healing miracle, not even the blasphemous versions dark mages used in combat. It was as if the flesh itself responded on its own.

  "A… vampire…?" she asked to herself, tilting her head, the confused concept fitting with illustrations from mangas and comics she had read before. "But… it’s daytime." she raised her gaze to the sky, dark gray like her pants. "Huh, didn’t know those existed for real. Hey, Elfrana, are those real or just cosplay?"

  GASP!

  "OF COURSE THEY’RE REAL, YOU STUPID BRAT!" Elfrana shouted, offended. "DIDN’T YOU JUST SEE ME REGENERATE?!"

  "Oh...yeah, guess that makes sense. Cool."

  Fer shrugged, not looking nearly as surprised as Elfrana expected. The vampire let out a dry and frustrated groan.

  "Why aren't you shocked?!" Elfrana shouted. "Don't you realize that I am a creature that has been alive for centuries?! I've killed thousands of people! I am Elfrana, the infamous Butcher of Isdran-!"

  "Look, I don't really give a shit." Fer interrupted. "Like, cool story bro, but I still gotta kick your ass."

  "Tch! N-Nevermind..."

  Elves, orcs, dwarves, beastmen, any creature couldn’t surprise her because in the end she like everyone else were that: mortals. Stab each one enough and they stop moving.

  "If she bleeds, she dies," Feralynn thought. "Damn it, got no silver ring like Frosty. One would come in handy. Will that even work against her?"

  Such creatures of the night existed only in myths, ancient legends, there were no traces modern science had found. Even so, Elfrana was still there: approaching with that twisted grin, preparing her weapon with an elegant spin.

  "I told you this was just beginning, Feralynn." she said with a soft giggle that didn’t match the still fresh blood on her clothes. "Let’s go again!"

  SHNK!

  She blocked the cut, but Elfrana separated from herself an extra shadow hand that fired a ray straight at her legs to destabilize her.

  "AAAAHHHH—!"

  The blade of the scythe fell like a fang over her right shoulder, sinking into the flesh with a wet crunch, making her drop the knife immediately. If Fer hadn’t grabbed the blade with her free hand wrapped in flames and ripped it away in time, she would’ve lost the arm entirely. Elfrana fired another ray at her. One straight to the torso, throwing her backward like a sack of sand.

  "You’re good at this." Elfrana admitted, maintaining her shot. "Whoever trained you did it well"

  Fer fell electrocuted hard onto the snow, immediately igniting her left palm even more to cut the hemorrhage, the fire cauterizing flesh and tissue in unbearable pain. She clenched her teeth until almost breaking them to endure the agony of the remnants of electricity in her body. Her eyes watered, desperately begging not to lose mobility in her arm.

  She felt her flaming knife land beside her face with a dry thud: Elfrana had thrown it toward her.

  "Oh, stop whining, it wasn’t that bad." She waited with one hand over her slim waist, tilting her head with total pleasure, the fangs showing. "I didn’t go that deep. Get up already!"

  "Haah… nngh…!"

  Come on, what’s wrong with me?! She’s not a civilian. There are no witnesses. And the seal activates under stress. But I don’t really feel stressed. I feel… why do I suddenly feel like this? I should be worried about getting out of here, I should be terrified about Mom knowing this. But... this is somehow...

  "Fun."

  Feralynn stood up slowly, her body still vibrating with the remnants of electricity that had tried to paralyze her. She picked up her knife, feeling the familiar weight of the metal against her palm, a weight that had always meant clarity. She stretched her injured arm to make sure she hadn’t lost enough mobility. She rotated her wrist. Flexed her fingers. She hadn’t.

  Good.

  Fine! If that’s , then so fucking be it!

  "You smiled." Elfrana said from a short distance, watching her with almost intimate attention. She pointed at her own neck with the tip of a finger. "When you buried your dagger in me, you smiled."

  It was true.

  Fer looked away for a second, as if the snow had suddenly said something interesting.

  "Tch, so what if I did?" Fer snorted, locking eyes with her again. "Unlike you, I can actually kill you." A sideways smile crept across her face, carrying that unpleasant edge born in the trenches. "Your bitchy eyepatch owner forbade you, right? She told you to kidnap me, Discount Fangs."

  Elfrana let out a low chuckle at the insult, more entertained than offended. She began to approach slowly, the scythe resting in one hand without lifting it yet, as if she didn’t need to use it immediately. Her steps were light, almost careless.

  Before Fer could take a combat stance, she appeared.

  She didn’t walk. She didn’t run.

  She simply appeared like a whip of black wind beside her, the movement so fast the snow exploded in a white line behind her step. The scythe was ready to slice her legs in a clean stroke.

  Fer jumped.

  She spun her body in the air as if that reaction was stored in her spinal cord. She loaded a strong amount of fire into her leg.

  "Tch! She doesn’t need mana to move like that!" Elfrana thought, showing for the first time a shadow of annoyance on her face. "DAMN IT—!"

  "FIRE STYLE!" Fer shouted, smiling just like her opponent now. "INFERNO KICK!"

  BOOM!

  Her black boot exploded against the side of Elfrana’s head, the impact sounding like a cannon blast in the middle of the forest. Fire burst in a burning arc that illuminated the nearby trunks. To avoid being launched away, Elfrana buried the blade of her scythe into the frozen ground and let herself slide over the snow, the metal screeching while it stopped her momentum.

  Half her head was on fire. The flesh red, open. Skull almost fully visible.

  She shook her face with clear irritation, and extinguished the flames with an impatient gesture of her hand. The skin regenerated so quickly it was almost obscene to watch, the flesh closing as if it had never received any blow in the first place.

  "NGH...FUCK...DAMMIT, THAT SHOOK MY BRAIN, STUPID BRAT!"

  That wasn't normal fire, those crimson flames...

  "GUN!"

  Fwip–! BOOM!

  She raised a barrier of purple mana just in time to avoid the impact of a fire bullet from Fer that exploded against the shield like an artillery projectile. The arcane crystal fractured instantly, cracking like glass under pressure.

  "Shouldn’t you be afraid of me, brat?!" Elfrana shouted, stepping back while the shield collapsed into fragments of light. "You’re alone, I regenerate, and you have that crap that can leave you dry! You should at LEAST be trying to run away!"

  Fer lowered her hand in a finger gun gesture, the index still smoking. She raised her eyebrows with clear boredom toward Elfrana, as if that explanation were a trivial annoyance. "Afraid? Are you kidding?"

  The truth was simpler. More uncomfortable. Fer felt her chest light. Her pulse alive. The heat of blood pumping hard.

  "FIRE STYLE!"

  Suddenly, Elfrana’s supernatural reflexes helped her stop Fer’s explosive fire punch that appeared in front of her without warning, which collided against the metal handle of her scythe raised in defense.

  "PHOENIX STRIKE!"

  The explosion didn’t take long to come.

  BOOM!

  "ANOTHER IMPACT?!"

  First came the burning flesh colliding, the brutal heat against the cold metal. Second came the flames biting into the skin, and third the fiery blast, a compressed roar that pushed the air around it. Elfrana stepped back barely a step, her boots digging furrows into the snow.

  And then they continued! Fer attacked. Elfrana responded. The blades crossed in reciprocal dialogues that fed themselves on pure adrenaline. Fer would sheath her knife, then draw it. She alternated between quicker unarmed combat, and then switched back to her weapon for piercing attacks.

  The scythe blade charged with cursed electricity cut the air in purple arcs while Fer’s dagger traced burning orange lines in response. The clashes of lightning and fire filled the forest with rapid flashes. Elfrana began dodging Fer’s flaming knife cuts, tilting her torso, turning her hips, letting the edge pass grazing her regenerated skin.

  But that was when she noticed it. Between the exchanges of sharp weapons… between the bursts of fire. Between the sparks and the cuts. She was the one smiling.

  Feralynn was smiling. Not a cruel smile. Not a war smile.

  "THIS IS AWESOME!"

  It was something worse: enjoyment. Fer suddenly realized she hadn’t had a fight like this in a long time. Not since Soleria. Not since before arriving in Larion.

  Fer clenched her teeth, feeling the pulse hammering in her temples while fire licked her knuckles.

  She didn’t have to think about morality, or about whether killing was “right” or “wrong.” That wasn’t a normal person; that thing had attacked her first, had crossed the forest like a predator, had surely left many corpses behind.

  It regenerated. It stood up. It came back for more. So why think too much?! If she didn’t let herself fall into extreme rage, the seal wouldn’t activate! She only had to keep enough control. Endure.

  What bothered Elfrana the most was that Fer was right: she couldn't kill her. When faced with scythe cuts, Fer cauterized the wounds, but all the attacks were aimed at the limbs; while Fer, on the other hand, aimed direct attacks at the heart, the neck, even the wrists to disarm her.

  The sudden change in fighting style forced Elfrana to adapt, wasting time and giving Fer more opportunities to strike, even though she regenerated as if nothing had happened. Let the sun come out whenever it wanted, even if it took until noon! Her body knew what to do. It always had. And shit… she had to admit it even if it pissed her off to acknowledge it. This was fun.

  Fighting was fun!

  it's fun! It's fun! It's always fun!

  THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE GOOD AT, FERALYNN!

  When the other one couldn’t break, when you didn’t have to measure every blow to avoid killing the wrong person… you could let the body speak by itself. Movement, fire, impact. Nothing else. No thinking. Just fight. And fuck… it felt damn good.

  Her body remembered every rhythm, every pressure, every breath synchronized with danger. The knife moved in her hand as if it were an extension of her own nerve. The fire responded without effort. There was no fear. There was no doubt.

  Only movement. Only that old hunger waking in the bones when someone could finally keep up with her rhythm, when combat stopped being practice and returned to what it had always been for her: a brutal conversation where every strike was a word and every dodge a reply.

  Elfrana saw it. She felt it. That change in Feralynn’s breathing, in the tension of her shoulders, in the way her feet stopped searching for balance and started searching for advantage.

  Her smile slowly grew, her fangs showing like blades.

  "Getting geared up, huh?!" Elfrana screamed, leaning her torso slightly while dodging a cut that whistled in front of her face and tore the sleeve of her black coat open with a clean rip. "I KNEW YOU WOULDN’T DISAPPOINT ME!"

  Fer roared and threw another burning slash with her knife, the edge wrapped in compressed fire leaving an orange trail in the air. Elfrana had to jump backward to avoid it, her boots sinking into melted snow. Feralynn didn’t let her stabilize. She extended her free palm and spat a flamethrower-like blast of intense fire, a brutal tongue of flames that swept the space between them.

  Elfrana responded instinctively with a discharge of dark lightning that came out of her forearm like electric whips. Both elements collided halfway and exploded on impact in a cloud of vapor, sparks, and embers that rose violently.

  Both ended separated by several meters of melted snow and steaming vapor that slowly rose between the mutilated trees.

  "You’re just like me, you know?" Elfrana brought a hand to her forehead, pushing away singed strands of hair that still smelled burned. "A natural-born murderer."

  "Nah, we ain't the same."

  Fer pulled out a cigarette with absurd calm in the middle of the battlefield, as if she were at the entrance of a bar and not in front of an armed vampire. She placed it between her lips, pulled out her old zippo, and with a click lit the flame. She took a drag, the tobacco glowing orange.

  "Then what’s the difference between us?" Elfrana asked, raising her eyebrows with almost genuine curiosity. She gestured widely toward the surroundings, the chaos they were leaving in the increasingly destroyed forest, flames consuming branches, blood from both of them from cuts that had found their targets, trees felled or burned, snow transformed into dark mud. "We both love this."

  Then, smiling faintly, she told her.

  "At least I brush my damn teeth. My breath may smell like cheap tobacco, but yours stinks like rotten shit."

  There was a silence. One of those absurd silences that doesn’t belong in a fight.

  Until Elfrana started laughing. A clear laugh. Real.

  Feralynn snorted, exhaling smoke through her nose while shaking her head. And she laughed with her too, a short but real sound that got lost in the vapor of the destroyed forest.

  When they calmed down, Elfrana wiped a small tear from the corner of her eye with a finger, catching her breath while relaxing her shoulders.

  "Haaah~, well. That was good." she sighed with satisfaction. "I’d love to keep playing with you, lil' sis, but I’m afraid I must hurry before Carmie gets mad."

  She tossed her black scythe aside with a careless gesture. The weapon disintegrated into black flames before touching the snow, evaporating as if it had never existed. Then she brought her hands together in front of her in a precise gesture, a ritual posture that immediately changed the air around her.

  And smiling she said firmly two words that erased all confidence from Feralynn.

  "Final Style."

  Fer’s cigarette fell into the snow.

  Her lips parted slightly, and her red eyes remained wide when she saw Elfrana’s hand and body stance. That gesture. That concentration of mana.

  A cursed and negative mana began surrounding her like an invisible pressure.

  The wind roared.

  Branches shook violently. Snow began lifting from the ground like dust dragged by a rising storm.

  It was as if the forest itself sensed what was about to come. As if at that exact moment an impossible electrical storm were forming around a single person.

  "Dracovyr's Wings Bear My Name."

  …

  …

  …

  "Amon, have you seen my dear Elfrana?"

  "No."

  "Oh, I see." Carmilla paused. "Say, would you want to take a small break and eat some burgers together?"

  "...Okay."

  WRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!

  "I TOLD YOU, DAMMIT! I TOLD YOU WE SHOULDN'T HAVE STOPPED TO HELP THOSE VILLAGERS!" Gerard shouted, desperate. "YOU'RE THE WORST, GRACE, YOU'RE THE WORST DISGRACE EVER!"

  "HAHAHAHAHA, RELAAAAAX! WE JUST NEED TO FIND MY SWORD! YOU NOBLES ARE SO BORIIIING~!"

  Buttons was unconscious due to a head contusion.

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