Sarah flopped down upon her bed, colours swirling in a relaxed fashion, her body steaming and somewhat damp from the sauna and spa treatment given by her Elvish servants within the castle. She was relaxed at this stage, as she slowly crawled under the covers and towards her pillows. Of which reminded her of her son when he was first given his own bed. This led to a soft chuckle at the memory, and slowly she resumed her crawl until, at last, she reached her pillows and laid her head upon one of them.

“Muu,” she released as a sigh and closed her eyes whilst her tail twitched ever so slightly from beneath the blankets, “What a day.” The Goddess shifted upon her back, and bringing the covers up around her neck, where she moved her arms out so that only they, her head, and shoulders were visible to the open air. With clawed fingers upraised, she counted the day's events, “Let's see now, First the city's guards bothered us from Brutus's mistake, and I had to comfort Nox who was terrified.”

She sighed heavily after recalling the child dashing towards her with a river of tears flowing down his face, and embraced him tightly as he buried his face into her neck fur just as a guard in riot gear tried to separate the pair. Of course, they were not able to do so, as they were bisected by the Legionaries who accompanied them into the restaurant. Which would have led to a more complicated outcome if not for the Lich King's intervention. One that came in the form of himself revealing to the gathered crowd, his true and terrible self. This calmed down her child, who stared with wonder and widened eyes at his uncle, but at least he stopped crying and shaking from fear.

After which came an apology from the remainder of the guards, who were then left embedded inside the Cobalt walls. Whereas they just walked out of the restaurant without much of a care for what had happened to them. Though she did ask, Sarah was only given a haphazard reply of, “They'll be fine.”

“Next came the shopping spree Sia wanted with me.” More memories appeared from her words, as she was dragged to every major outlet and mall which held clothing and accessories for this or that. To which she released an exasperated sigh as her gaze drifted over towards the other side of the room. Where a mountain of unnecessary wants lay in stacked packages of varying colours.

However, she did enjoy the fact that everything was free. Though, the answer to why it was so was surprising.

“Our Core Worlds produce enough gold to allow everything to be free,” Brutus shrugged as though this was nothing more than common knowledge, “Every time there is a purchase made, a receipt is written out with the recipient scrawling their initials at the end. This is then given to the Merchant Guild who then compensate the merchant for the wares purchased.”

“Is that why the candy merchant was so excited?” she asked slowly, pointing at Nox who sat upon a cart carrying many different sweets and treats. In front of the cart, however, was Shauu who grinned as she easily pushed at the bar at the front of the cart to get it moving. Whereupon they rounded a corner and disappeared from view.

“No,” he replied slowly, “That just enjoys watching children smile, as he is a devout follower of our Lord.”

After some time had passed, the pair reemerged with Nox playing with Wolf children whilst Shauu spoke to an elderly couple until they came upon Sarah and Sia. Here, the children whined at being separated from Nox, who had to promise to play with them soon in order to have them leave with their guardians willingly.

Sarah sighed at the memory, spreading out her arms and clawed hands to either side of herself, when she felt something leathery brush up against her digits. Turning her head towards the object, she found herself staring at the book she had been reading before her adventure into the outside world. Slowly, mechanically, with her colours becoming muted, she pulled the book upon her lapped, opened it to the last page she was on, and began to read once more.

*****

“Oh shit,” Azazel's eyes widened in surprise as she stared upon the screen in front of her. For before her newfound entertainment, named Karastak, was a horde of Goblins bearing down upon him. Each howled for his blood and raised their crude spears and rusted weapons just as he released a primal scream, his own eyes burning with crimson hatred. One that was more directed towards the Goblin Lord than its minions.

Here, he leapt forward, intent on slaying the red-skinned Goblin with outstretched claws, but only found green and blue flesh, along with blackened ichor that was their blood. In the background, it laughed a haughty laugh as the Vampire was swept away with the great tide of Goblins. Each clawing, biting, and stabbing at his body whilst receiving the same or a draining of their essences until all that was left was a husk. Though, it appeared to her eyes that a few of those drained stood back up, and, with a howl of great hunger, leapt into the fray until they vanished from sight.

“That shouldn't be possible,” the girl gaped as she replayed the scene where Karastak bit down upon a victim, drained it of most of their essences, tossed it aside, and watched it slowly stagger to its feet, “What the hell is happening down there?”

Even so, the pale man stood with many cuts upon his body, his eyes a baleful crimson and without a drop of sanity amongst the pair. Who did not even acknowledge those who were turned as they charged towards his side, turned around, and howled at those that were once a part of their tribe before launching themselves into the fray just as he who was their creator did so, too. Thus leading to Azazel to watch, dumbfounded as her source of entertainment led a strenuous group of vampiric Goblins into battle. Perhaps he did not even realise this, as his mind had become more instinctual and animalistic than intelligent.

However, upon looking down upon his status page, she noticed something which shouldn't be possible. He had gained a new skill and title, “Conversion: Thrall,” Azazel's voice whispered in awe, her white eyes growing larger, but seemed to want to pop out at the title gained, “Vampire Lord.” More so was that it was now equipped, replacing One Who Seeks Knowledge, “That shouldn't be possible,” her legs gave way, and fell to the ground with legs splayed in either direction. Whereupon her lips stretched themselves into a slow grin, which then became a Cheshire cat's grin as she laughed at the stunning development.

For she had long sought out someone to fight against her sister, Azrael, and her accursed Humans for a long time. One that spanned since the beginning of their world of Terra, and more so since the destruction of the Demon race. All because one of her Demons used a spell to become a Dragon and torched their hero before he could touch down upon their world's surface.

And now? Now she had a means to strike back, but she would need to wait before giving him that title and allow him to become fully integrated into their System.

Regardless, she became giddy, but had to push it aside as she quickly gripped the sides of her screen. For Karastak was becoming a pincushion under many spears and rusted swords, whereas all around his body was hundreds of dead or weakened green and blue-skinned Goblins. Whereas in front of his hatred filled eyes was the red-skinned Goblin Lord who danced around his skull throne, chanting, “I am strong! I am strong! You are weak! You are weak!” over and over again. Even though the Lord's minions had fallen to critical levels, and two of the impregnated females, the twins by the looks of it from Azazel's perspective, had fallen in the onslaught.

Whereas on the other side, the pale man's converted Goblins were still fighting, and even managed to pull a dying Hobgoblin over to their master to feed upon. Once he did so, he tore into the screaming creature's neck, draining it dry as he stood tall once more. Unfortunately, she noted that he was standing in a dizzily fashion, and believed it was due to the fact that drinking so much of their ichor-like blood was poisonous to his system, but it appeared as though he did not care. All that was there was an intense hatred for the Goblin who danced upon his throne whilst chanting those words endlessly.

Here, he stepped forward with heavy foot falls, and grunted as a random arrow or spear found purchase within his body. Whereas his little minions screeched and flung themselves against his attackers with reckless abandonment as he continued forward.

*

Down below, within a cavern full of dead and dying Goblins and Hobgoblins, moved a dying Karastak. The more intelligent side of himself knew he would perish soon, and urged his body forward in order to slay the annoyance who dared to call him weak. However, each step took a lot out of him, and his lungs were mostly full of his own and the creatures' blood. Even so, he continued forward as spears and arrows flew and found purchase within his body.

To which he sent out a silent command towards his little minions, 'SLAY THEM ALL!' This led to the screeching as they flew into a berserking rage towards those who were once a part of their tribe. Each using their own shattered bodies and limbs of the fallen to rampage into those who were still alive.

'Neat,' came a silent thought as he reached the skull throne, and slowly climbed towards the top where chanting Goblin Lord laughed at his minions who were being torn apart by the living.

“See! See!” he howled at them, “I Strong! You we-!” His eyes bulged at the bloodied, clawed hand which gripped his right ankle, and squawked as he was pulled down to Karastak's eye level.

“You are not strong,” he coughed all over the red-skin, reds and blacks splashed against the lord's skin as a pair of broken fangs bit and tore out a chunk of flesh from a now screaming Goblin Lord who struck out against the dying Vampire. “You will never be strong,” he whispered to it, allowing it to run away whilst shouting for others to slay him.

However, no one moved, causing it to scream obscenities in their language. Unfortunately for it, they were coming out in gurgles, but the red-skin did not pay attention to the noise, and soon perished from the loss of its ichor-like blood. Whereas Karastak soon found himself sitting atop the throne, still a pincushion, but felt surprisingly warm and unhurt.

'How... odd...' came his thought as his head slowly turned towards those still living, and grinned. He then slowly, painstakingly took a deep breath, and released it in one final, primal scream towards those who still stood in his presence. One that reverberated throughout the whole of the cavern, doubling and tripling in strength. This was to signify that he was strongest, and to not forget about it.

Thus leading to the mass exodus of the living, each desiring not to become the next foe or meal of the pale skinned creature covered in his and their own blood, and punctured by their crude spears and swords. He was still alive, and would take their own to feed his desire for minions, and therefore they ran, not desiring to join the dead or his unholy minions. However, he himself would not do such a thing. Or rather, couldn't.

*

The reason why was made perfectly clear to Azazel, who stared at the screen in her hands with blossoming tears in her widened eyes. “No,” she moaned with despair, one that quickly became a scream of torment and anguish, “NO!”

For upon the screen, written in red were the words: