“While I’m not opposed, I’m still a little confused why we’re taking this detour, Sevantis,” Evenwood asked, his attention shifting to the side as he glanced at his fellow knight.

“While our main priority is hunting down vampires, we can’t let any blight weaken the empire. According to Bravor, there is a group of bandits hiding out in a village around here. While the bandits aren’t vampires, they are still a problem that needs to be taken care of, and if they couldn’t even handle a pair of kids, they shouldn’t be much of an issue, I’m guessing.”

Evenwood nodded, before rolling his shoulders, his attention shifting back down to the path they were following--it was pretty straightforward now, seeing as they were on a dirt road. The indentations were far easier to see, as this route did not seem to be traveled often. “If I had any guess, if we follow along this road, we’ll reach the village fairly soon,” Evenwood commented, as he glanced upwards, focusing his attention ahead of them and then focusing his vision to look forward, looking far ahead of them.

Despite being far away, Evenwood was able to see the wooden walls rising above a small settlement a few miles ahead of them--and the road they were following was taking them directly to it. This only confirmed his statement from before.

“What’s the plan when we get there? I’m not the best at front line fighting, so what’s the plan?” Evenwood asked, dismissing the magic and returning his attention to his direct surroundings.

“Hmmm, well, I’m going to draw their attention and walk through the main gates. I want you to sneak around and see if you can find a way in that way. If I’d guess they’re going to try and ambush me, so do what you can about any archers you find. I doubt they’ll be expecting you, and I know you can be quiet if you need to be.”

Evenwood nodded--it was a fine enough plan. Sevantis could handle himself in most situations, as long he wasn’t fighting an opponent as skilled as him, or he wasn’t outnumbered. The real threat here was any archers, or casters, as it took a single well-placed arrow to kill someone from a distance, and more often than not, it was impossible to dodge a wall of hands.

“When we get a little closer then, I’ll take the horses and hide them in one of the fields before making my way in. We wouldn’t want them to spot one of our mounts, and we wouldn’t want a stray arrow to strike one of them.”

“That’s fine. It’d take us much longer to get to Steelwallow if one of the horses were hurt or killed. Since this is outside of our main priority, it’s better to be safer even if it makes us seems more suspicious.”

With that, the pair continued to travel onwards until, in the distance, the wooden walls could be seen without Evenwood’s enhanced eyesight. Sevantis dismounted his horse, passing the reins on to Evenwood, before the pair split.

It was about mid-afternoon when Sevantis arrived at the town proper, his attention shifting to the walls for a moment, surveying the wood logs that had been dug into the ground, creating a wall--though it was only perfect for keeping wild animals and creatures out. The village didn’t even have a gate to speak of.

Letting out a small sigh, Sevantis walked forward, stepping past the entryway and inside the village. In an instant, it was clear something was wrong. Typically, there would be a few villagers out and about at this time of day, relaxing after a day’s work. Though there was no one inside the village, which only made Sevantis even more sure of the fact that this was the place the bandits who attacked his quarry were hold up.

Sevantis made his way deeper into the village, his eyes on alert for anyone or anything in the surrounding area. It was easy to see that the windows were shut on each of the buildings--if he had to guess, people were hiding inside of them, ready to reveal themselves when the time was right.

Eventually, Sevantis noticed a man--at first, he looked like older gentlemen--probably an elder, but his instincts told him something odd about this man.

“What business does a night of the empire have in our little village?” the old man asked, his head shifting upwards as his gaze focused on Sevantis.

The voice, however, sounded odd coming from the older man--as sounded far younger than it should.

“I’m tracking a group of bandits that I’ve been lead to believe is working out of a village in the area. They attacked a pair of travelers a few days ago before I rescued them from a group of bandits that had been sent after them.”

It was a lie--as he wasn’t the one who saved Tyrius and Leanna, but if any bandits were here, they wouldn’t know that it was a lie.

The old man paused for a moment, and Sevantis could see his figure seemed to tense up and shift in a somewhat unnatural way. That confirmed one of his suspicions. There was no old man in front. Instead, it was likely a bandit who had some skill with illusion magic and hid his proper form. From his understanding, it was similar to Evenwood’s magic, as they both relied on bending rays of light, just in different manners.

However, before Sevantis could make the first strike, the illusion waved, and the man stood up, revealing his proper form. It was a large, bulky man, his face having some light scars from a recent burn mark.

“I figured a knight would’ve seen through my illusions, though I’d rather trick you into leaving instead of killing you. Though that does explain where my men went--those two runts couldn’t have killed them all.” The bandit said, a small sigh escaping from him as he spoke.

A moment later, the closed wooden boards over the windows swung open, revealing more than a few bandits with crossbows pointing in his direction.

“You know, I was expecting something a little better. Though, now I’m seeing how a pair of kids could’ve escaped from you. This is one of the worst bandit traps I’ve seen.” Sevantis mocked the bandits around him as he reached down, grasping the hilt of his sword. “I even see the one left you with a little present. Why don’t you come quietly, and I’ll convince the lord to leave you in chains for years instead of having you hung. I mean, if you couldn’t catch a pair of kids, you probably haven’t committed very many crimes as it is.”

The bandit in front of Sevantis scoffed as he gripped the hilt of his greatsword, his eyes narrowing in anger as he looked at the knight. “Bold words when you’re outnumbered. Normally I like catching my quarry, but you, I think I’d prefer to split you in two.”

A moment later, the bandit attacked, his greatsword coming down with surprising speed as it was drawn. At the exact moment, Sevantis drew his sword--a longsword, and skillfully deflect the greatsword. Though the bandit hadn’t been forced off balance--it seemed he expect his attack to get blocked and didn’t put his full force behind the blow. Quickly he withdrew his weapon into a guard position before attacking again.

Sevantis dodge the following strike, as his instincts told him there was something odd about the attack. Sevantis gasped as his breastplate was struck only by the tip of an invisible blade, leaving a deep scratch on the armor. Sevantis simply chuckled--so he was using his illusion magic to hide where his attacks were truly coming from--the first attack was a feint, while the following was hidden. Not too shabby.

A moment later, Sevantis charged forward, closing the gap forming between the two, his longsword swinging forward, his blade crashing into an invisible wall, the sound of the impact echoing out across the clearing.

Sevantis was buying time. In the few short moments between the start of the fight, he’d witness one of the crossbow bandits disappear--Evenwood was doing his job. If he killed the bandit too quickly, he’d have a circle of crossbow bolts to deal with, and Sevantis didn’t feel like leaving his life up to luck at the moment.

For the next few minutes, Sevantis attacked back, his strikes being blocked by that invisible sword, and dodged, and blocked attacks that were made at him--none of the attacks made it through his fine armor, but more than a few left nicks, and scratches on it. They were surface strikes anyways, where only the edge of the blade managed to hit his armor--he’d gotten a good grasp of the greatsword’s actual length and always made sure to move out far enough from the attack.

However, the fight couldn’t last forever--and when enough time had passed, and he felt Evenwood had taken down enough of them, Sevantis made his move. He swung his sword forward, and he called upon his magic. In an instant, an orange glow engulfed his sword as he struck--as he expected, the bandit blocked the attack with the greatsword, trying to dodge the blow. However, the plasma-covered sword cut through the steel blade like a hot knife on butter.

The bandit let out a scream of surprise as his greatsword was sliced in two. The suddenly glowing sword continued forward, biting into his flesh, digging deeper into the center of his chest. The scent of roasted meat filling the air as the plasma sword cauterized the wounds at it sliced through the body, cutting through skin, muscle, and bone as quickly as it had cut through the blade.

The large bandit collapsed to the ground, and Sevantis took a moment to glance around him. The bandits on the left were nowhere to be seen, their figures not visible in the windows where they stood before--good Evenwood did his job. A moment later, his attention turned towards the bandits on the other side had their crossbows raised and aimed at him. With the bandit leader out of the way, there was no chance of hitting an ally, so they took their shots.

Crossbow bolts sailed through the air, but without the bandit to distract him, Sevantis was more than ready. With a snap of his fingers, several colorful lights burst around them, the air seeming to sizzle around them before they shot forward. The balls collide with the bolts causing the wood to burst into flames near instantly. With the wood burning, the bolts lost their marks and missed Sevantis--the balls of light didn’t stop. They sailed right through the crossbow bolts, slamming into each of the crossbowmen, leaving sizzling holes in their chests before the magic dissipated.

Sevantis remained on guard for a few moments until Evenwood popped out from behind the buildings, his gaze field with a worried looked. “Sevantis, come quick. I think you need to see this.”

Sevantis cocked an eyebrow as he followed after Evenwood. “What did you find?” Sevantis asked--they merely bandits, what could it be?

After a few moments, it became clear what the issue was. There were several large wooden cages, and inside there were people, prisoners, chained inside and packed like sardines. That wasn’t the big issue, however.

“Sevantis, I spoke with a few of them, and they were forced to drink something by the bandits.” Evenwood stated as he directed Sevantis’ attention towards a small barrel, it was mostly empty when Evenwood pulled it open, but he’d smelt that before--Blood. But not only that, the blood, in the dying rays of sunlight, started to bubble, letting out a small hissing sound. It was clear this was the blood of a vampire. Only vampiric blood boiled when in direct sunlight.

“What’s worse, inside one of the houses, there’s a vampire in there. Well, at least there was. When I opened the door, he tried to attack me, demanding that I give him blood. I killed him, but after inspecting him, I quickly noticed that he had been drained of most of his blood by then.”

“What the hell is going on here?” Sevantis asked, his attention shifted to Evenwood. Someone was, all the way in the empire was producing vampires. For what purpose? Sevantis, at least for now, regretted killing all of the bandits. “We need to search the blade for documents before we leave. Hopefully, we’ll be able to find some reason to explain this madness.”

That was when he turned towards the prisoners--or in this case, vampires. They looked at him weakly, a few begged to be freed, but Sevantis couldn’t do that. They were vampires, and soon they would turn on their kin and bring ruin to the countryside. As much as it hurt him to do, he had a job to do. He had to protect the people of the empire, and rid the land of vampiric kind, even if it stained him to his very soul. The least he could do was make it painless. Sevantis waved a hand and a series of balls from--the same ones he used to kill the bandits from afar. A moment later, he let them fire, the balls slamming into the prisoners, burning their flesh, and killing them in a few mere moments.

Evenwood looked when Sevantis did this--in truth. It was hard for even him to watch. But in the end, he couldn’t let a horde of vampires free. “Evenwodo burn the cart and the blood. I’m going to see what I can find…”

Lightning flashed above in the darkened sky, illuminating the darkness of the world below. Only small rays of light managed to pierce the dark clouds that hung in the sky, and the torrent of rain fell from the heavens. This suited Iceacar just fine--it was far better than the dry weather he had been dealing with for the past few days. It seemed the gods were on his side, at least in the encounter.

The Snow Elf empire had dealt with the small camp that bandits had made easily before releasing the trapped prisoners. Once that was done, he continued his trek making his way towards the large bandits camp he had been informed about. He’d only been here, scouting the place out, for a day when the storm rolled in, which was all the better for him. His magic required water--and with the rain falling from the skies, he didn’t need to worry about having to pull the water from a person or a tree.

His eyes focused on the camp before him. A few fires were still burning, though they weren’t out in the open. When the storm started to roll in, the bandits set up tarp covers to stop most of the rain from hitting and dousing the fires as they sat around grumbling about the weather.

The camp itself was littered with holes and openings, it would’ve been easy for him to sneak inside, but he didn’t need to sneak in--instead, he needed to eliminate the camp and rescues any vampires they had--if they had any captured. Barring that, he’d recover information and attempt to learn about why they were doing this--though he had little hopes for that.

In the end, Iceacar thought it was about time to make his move--but he didn’t plan to create an open battle. While he was confident in his skills, especially in the rain, he wasn’t going to attack foolishly. He had been bait in the last fight, but this time, he was a predator, and the bandits were his prey.

With a thump, Iceacar dropped down from his free onto the muddy ground beneath him. The bandits weren’t entirely stupid; they had cut down a stretch of trees to create a clearing and make the holding cells for the captives, as well as a few make-shift buildings, as well as a wall to keep out any enemies. They’d certainly put a lot of work into trying to defend their camp. So he couldn’t leap from tree to tree to get inside and drop down on the bandits. Instead, he’d need to sneak in on foot, and with the torrent of rain coming down, it was going to be easy to get close unnoticed.

Iceacar simply approached the wood trunks that had been driven into the ground to create the walls, and the elf simply reached forward, calling upon his magic forming an icy ladder against the wood--and with that, he simply climbed up and over the wall. A bandit was standing at the bottom to his surprise--he seemed to be cursing about the weather as he took a piss. He didn’t seem to notice the white-haired elf staring down at him.

Iceacar didn’t waste a moment and form an icy dagger from the water before he dropped down, his body slamming into the bandit, his dagger digging deeper into his neck, causing blood to ooze out from the wound. The bandit’s body shuttered as he let out a sudden gap that was ended all too quickly as his life was drained before he dropped to the ground dead.

Iceacar instantly stropped in a crouch as he began to walk along the edges of the camp, moving from tent to tent as he glanced inside. Each time he encountered a group of bandits, he attacked. Sometimes he created icicles from the rain and shot them through the tent’s soft covering impaling the bandits; sometimes, he’d slink inside and dig his dagger into their flesh--it depends on if there were multiple bandits in the end.

However, his good luck didn’t last forever. After killing them than a dozen men, a horn sounded off--it seems someone had found his handiwork. A moment later, the bandits started to hurry out of the tents, curious and worried about what was going on. He heard the sound of someone barking orders, and it wasn’t long until the bandits started to search for their unknown attacker.

Of course, this suited Iceacar just fine--there were pros and cons to every situation. While they were searching for him, it’d be easier to find groups of them. He just needed to be careful. The elf continued to slink along the edges of the tents, staying in the shadows. For the most part, he was hidden by the storm as he waited to ambush a group of fools.

The fools came soon enough, a pair of four bandits made their way forward. They ambled and carefully, unsure of what they were looking for. It was easy to see the fear in their eyes as they searched. When they were close enough, Iceacar attacked.

A wave of frosty air buffeted the bandits as Iceacar’s magic lashed out, the ground they were walking on froze, their ice climbing up their boots, latching them in place. Before they could react to that, the elf leaped out from the shadows, his frozen dagger slicing easily through the first bandit’s neck, his blood spurting out as the artery was cut.

The next bandit was a bit more aware and managed to parry Iceacar’s first strike, but due to the ice that had formed around his legs, he wasn’t able back peddle as the elf’s hand grasped his face and once again summoned his magic.

Iceacar didn’t inject his mana into the bandit’s body--that was too much work for what he needed to do. Instead, he froze the water on his face, chilling into a rigid icy surface in an instant. The ice kept spreading until the bandit was entirely cased in ice, unable to move. It was a brutal way to die--a mixture of suffocation and hypothermia, but Iceacar didn’t care. He’d dealt out enough death in his long life to shrug it off.

The last two bandits, at this point, had managed to break their feet from, using their weapons to crack the ice. One had foolish cut his legs when he slammed the weapon’s blade into the icy surface, the edge biting through the ice--and into his leg. He simply grunted, accepting the pain, before moving back, attempting to retreat.

Of course, Iceacar wasn’t going to let that happen. Once finished freezing the second bandit, he lashed up, jumping forward, conjuring four spikes of ice from the rain that poured down, and launched them ahead, two at each bandit. Much to his surprise, both of the bandits managed to deflect at least one of the spikes. However, the bandit with the wounded leg couldn’t dodge the second spike and ended up with one embedded into his chest.

The last bandits turned to run, attempting to run into the clearing to get reinforcements--but the elf was on him in an instant. Once his back was turned, the ice dagger was driven into his side as he was tackled to the ground. The bandit didn’t die instantly, but that was better. It was going to be a long night, and Iceacar couldn’t use all his resources too quickly. Leaning in, the vampire dug his teeth into the bandit’s neck, drinking blood directly from the source. He wouldn’t regain his mana reserves instantly, but they’d slowly recover throughout the night--and Iceacar was going to need. Once he’d had his fill, the ground around him was covered in blood, and Iceacar stabbed the ice dagger down into the bandit’s head for good measure before rising and moving out once more. There were still plenty of bandits to kill.

For the next half hour, Iceacar continued to ambush groups of the bandits as they attempted to search through the camp amid the storm--the torrent of rain helping him hide in the shadows--though eventually, it became clear that search was futile--their attacker had the advantage and instead they assembled, a total of seven had survived so far. Six of the seven were the average run-of-the-mill bandits that Iceacar had been massacring throughout the night. The seven was different. Even though the rain was falling from the skies, it was easy to tell he was the leader and carried himself in an entirely different manner.

He walked with confidence. The leather armor he was wearing was of fine make. While Iceacar couldn’t tell what it was made from, it was undoubtedly going to be sturdy. If he had to guess, though, it was dragon skin--a relatively rare ingredient, something a simple bandit leader wouldn’t have. If he had to guess, the man also wielded magic. The real question was the kind.

However, Iceacar had the advantage in the rain. With water falling from the sky, it was so easy to pull whatever he needed for his spells. However, Iceacar wasn’t going to just waltz in there and attack. Instead, the vampire hoisted himself up onto a wooden beam and pulled pull a small string from his sack.

A moment later, he tossed it into the air, and once again, his magic surged forward, the water freezing, and moments later, it latched onto the wire he’d thrown into the air, forming a bow. Typically ice wasn’t bendable enough to make a good bow--it’d shatter before it would bend. However, with magic, that wasn’t the case. He could control the particles of ice and force them to turn and reshape without breaking.

An instant after, Iceacar grasped the ice bow, formed and an arrow of ice in his free hand. He then nocked the arrow. Iceacar aimed and pulled the string back. Thanks to his vampiric nature, he found it far easier to see in the dark--and could see the bandits at this range, albeit not perfectly due to the rain coming down.

Once he had his mark, the one who was the leader, Iceacar, let loose the arrow, the icy bolt flying silently through the air. Much to Iceacar’s surprise, at the last moment, the leader twist to the side, deftly dodging the arrow, and it only confirmed that there was magic here. The only question, what kind?

Iceacar created another ice arrow before nocking it once more and firing it off. This time he chose to attack one of the lesser bandits--and this time, his mark hit, the bandit falling to the ground, blood oozing out as the frozen arrow piercing his clothes and dealt a deadly blow.

Whatever magic the bandit leader had, it only protects him--he had some suspicion as to what his magic was, but only time would tell. Iceacar fired another arrow, doing another bandit before the leader simply grunted and barked an order--the four remaining ones retreated away and into a nearby makeshift building--Iceacar assumed this was the prison.

In the end, it was just Iecacar and bandit leader, and it was clear to him that unless he could fire more arrows at once, he wasn’t going down the bandit leader. Iceacar dismissed the magic holding the bow together with a heavy side, and it melted in but a few moments. After retrieving the string, the elf returned it to his back before leaping down and approaching. It was his first good look at the man.

While he was tall, the bandit leader was not particularly large. As Iceacar suspected, the armor was fine, and he could see the tiny scales that seemed to be engraved into the armor, confirming that it was draconic in origin. When Iceacar came into view, the bandit simply chuckled.

“Ah, I see why we had so much trouble. Are you Bloodmyre’s dog? I was told there was a chance you might show up.”

Iceacar was caught off guard by that--whoever this was knew who he was, which was a feat in itself, as he did his best to keep himself secret despite being rather easy to spot. What was more surprising was that he knew of his connection to Lady Bloodmyre.

“It seems I stumbled upon something a bit more than some bandits making some coin.” Iceacar retorted as he waved his hand, a frozen sword appearing in his grasp. “Maybe you’ll give me the answer I seek.” Iceacar finished as a small frozen dagger appeared in his off-hand.

“Maybe I’ll deliver your head to my superior, and he’ll send it as a present to your lord. You, vampires, tend to like those brutal gifts, don’t you?”

Iceacar simply grunted, before taking a step forward, his frozen blade swinging out--the attack was merely a test to see what exactly he was dealing with. The bandit parried the blow in a flash, his movements almost perfect. What surprised Iceacar the most was how the bandit didn’t even turn his head to watch the blade to block it, as if he knew exactly where it was.

There were a couple of possibilities. It could’ve been wind magic that let him know the strike was coming--that was the most likely, as it was a relatively common type to learn, but something deep down told Iceacar this wasn’t the case. If it was, he should’ve been able to protect his allies from his arrows.

After that, the bandit attacked, his sword lashing out with frightening speed and accuracy, Iceacar only managing barely sorry the attack. This man was good; that much was clear.

In an instant, Iceacar was put on the back foot, and he only barely managed to block each strike, the attacks always seeming to go exactly where his defenses were the weakest, the place where it would be the hardest to block. This confirmed his suspicions; there was only one type of magic wielder who could weave a storm of steel that always seemed to target his weakest point--a follower of Cezara. They were always a pain to deal with. Their precognition made even the novices of their order in the highest class of duelists.

However, this fight was not going to be decided by swordcraft. A moment later, the ground beneath them frozen, the slick, moody environment turning into a slippery icy surface in an instant, and Iceacar quickly leaped back, creating a small gap so that he could regain his breath.

He would’ve attacked, but the follower of Cezara recovered in an instant, and any strike would’ve been blocked.

“What is a follower of the goddess of conflict doing here?” Iceacar asked as he took a deep breath, reassuming his stance.

The man simply grinned before leaping forward and reengaging Iceacar in melee. The elf dodges to the side, changing tactics. He needed to be unpredictable to keep the other on his toes. There was a limit to their precognition; as with all magic, he just needed to find it.

Iceacar went on the offensive, weaving a storm of ice. The raindrops around them froze into small frozen pellets, which, after a moment, launched themselves at the bandit. It was a minor distraction and wouldn’t be enough to kill, but the specks of ice dug into his skin where it was visible but bouncing off his armor. Despite the nuisance, the bandit fought on as if it was nothing.

Blood oozed from the bandit’s wounds, the blood dripping down his cheeks, before dropping to the ground as he attacked, his strikes finally starting to make some headway. Iceacar just couldn’t keep blocking and dodging strikes at his weakest points, and soon enough, gashes from the bandit’s sword started to riddle his body. They weren’t deadly, but death by thousands of cuts was certainly possible. Iceacar needed to end this soon--before he was entirely overwhelmed by the follower of Cezara.

Iceacar cut of the magic he has had been suing to send a storm of frozen pellets at the bandit and instead, focused on a different trick. All he needed to was keep the other occupied for a little longer.

Iceacar went on the offense once more, attempting to drive the other back, but as he did so, the bandit blocked Iceacar’s frozen sword, and the icy suddenly shuttered, catching the elf by surprise.

It was here the frozen ground was a disadvantage to him. Surprised by his weapon suddenly shattered, Iceacar slipped and fell back, slamming down onto the frozen ground with a hard thud.

“Those frozen blades of yours are pretty damn sturdy, but even they have a weak point I can exploit.”

The bandit taunted as he moved to swing his weapon downwards. Iceacar’s dagger wasn’t going to protect him here, and conjuring a sword wouldn’t be fast enough since he couldn’t swing it in time. So, instead, Iceacar focused his magic once more, and a thin layer of ice shot up from the ground and blocked the blade, only just--but that small delay was exactly what Iceacar needed.

On the ground, Iceacar could see it, hanging above the sky, was riddled with dozens of frozen spikes, ready to be dropped at a moment’s notice once he cut the mana--which he was extremely low on. All Iceacar could do was smirk as the bandit hovered over him, his face contorted in annoyance.

“Don’t delay the inevitable. You lost bloodsucker.” He stated as he raised his weapon once more--and that was when Iceacar released the spikes.

The bandit’s precognition kicked in as he sensed his impending doom, and instead of striking, he glanced upwards, his eyes going wide as a wall of frozen spears flew down at the both of them.

Unlike Iceacar, the follower of Cezara couldn’t protect himself from the falling icicles. Another wall of ice formed around Iceacar, covering him from the falling spikes, while the bandit was skewered and impaled. Underneath his frozen dome, Iceacar panted softly. He was exhausted. He heard the sound of bandit collapsing to the ground, and a moment later, he listened to the sound of a door open and a series of feet slamming into the ground, running away. At least he didn’t need to deal with the surviving bandits. With a grunt, Iceacar pushed himself up, the ice wall disappeared. He took one look at the bandit before letting out a heavy sigh.

This fight was far more challenging than he expected, but at least it was done. Iceacar limped forward, heading towards the building. Much to Iceacar’s dismay, however, there were no prisoners inside. He had assumed they were in here when he didn’t see any cages outside. Iceacar simply cursed under his breath. It was an office, and there were several sheets and letters lying on a desk. He’d need to read through them in the morning--maybe they would enlighten him. For now, however, he needed to rest. Iceacar slammed the door shut before making his way over to the bed and collapsing into it.