《Cheaters Always Win》84. The Hunter and the Hunted

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Five hundred years ago, during the cataclysmic events of the Draconic Invasion, an unusual transformation occurred where Welton's Furnace is now built. As the dragons descended upon the land, their immense magical energies seeped into the very core of the earth. It was there that an ordinary silver ore underwent a miraculous metamorphosis, absorbing the ambient energies left by the dragons' relentless assault.

This newly formed metal, dubbed "starsteel," was unlike anything seen before. Its lustrous, marble-like surface shimmered with a celestial glow, reflecting the heavens above as though it held the essence of the stars themselves. As the years passed, tales of starsteel's properties began to spread, capturing the imagination of smiths and enchanters alike.

One of the most remarkable qualities of starsteel was its innate resistance to darkness-based attacks. Rumors suggested that the metal's celestial radiance acted as a counterbalance to the shadows, repelling dark energies and protecting its wielder from harm. Warriors and adventurers sought starsteel weapons and armor, eager to harness its protective powers in their battles against the forces of darkness.

But perhaps the most intriguing aspect of starsteel was its effect on vampires. The metal's strange energy seemed to interfere with the healing abilities of the powerful race. When struck by a starsteel weapon, vampires found their wounds slow to mend and their strength sapped by the celestial power imbued within the metal. This made starsteel a highly sought-after material among vampire hunters, who wielded it as their ultimate weapon against the nocturnal species. However, the Church of Pernatia's control of the supply has made it hard to find due to their alliance with Wisperium.

As the centuries passed, starsteel remained shrouded in mystery and legend. Its origins, forever tied to the Draconic Invasion, served as a reminder of the raw, untamed power that once threatened to consume the world. Now, starsteel stands as a beacon of hope, an enduring symbol of the resilience and strength that can emerge from even the darkest of times.

~ Starsteel: The Holy Metal by Porches Belfort

Damien's face was full of worry. He looked ill as he sprinted through the city at rapid speeds. One wouldn't be able to tell the armor he wore was dozens of kilograms heavy.

'What the hell was that?'

Just before he crossed the line which drew the boundary between the Twilight Bandits and Magellan's territory, the vampire sent off Maxwell as a messenger between him and the children. Damien knew that the gangsters wouldn't be able to hunt him down when he was in another group's area, and it was a way of letting the orphans know that he was always one message away.

But within minutes of sending his familiar, things became strange.

He felt a strong sense of foreboding and urgency. Damien knew the feelings weren't normal; they were a result of his connection to Maxwell. The canine couldn't form words or thoughts to communicate properly, but it was able to transmit feelings and evoke emotions. But it was the first time he had felt such a way from the connection he had with his Shadow Servant.

Your Shadow Servant has been dispelled.

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The notification only served to push him to go faster. The vampire gritted his teeth, making a beeline towards Strofil South. He didn't care if he was exposed, and that allowed him to cover great amounts of distance. Activating Darkness and Mana Infusion, he accelerated his speed. The streets were bare, making it easy for Damien to navigate through the city at night. His eyes were perfectly adapted to the darkness and allowed him to avoid any obstacles en route. Until-

"HE-"

Due to his distracted state, he was unable to stop in time when a person turned the corner. The vampire dropped his shoulder, ramming into the hapless person with the full brunt of his orichalcum-adamantium armor. With a vicious grunt, he stepped into it to avoid falling flat on his face.

Despite running over a pedestrian, Damien could only shout out an apology before continuing the pace. He didn't even bother to look back as he ran off, hearing several shouts past his shoulder.

"Hey! Damien! You fucking asshole!"

After taking the time to register the voice, the teen looked back to see his curly-haired companion running towards him at full speed, catching up rapidly. His hair was in disarray after the collision, and his face was twisted up in irritation.

"Come on! I don't have time for this!"

"Stop running you dick! I thought I broke my ribs! What if that was an old woman? You would've killed her! You're lucky-"

"The kids are in danger!" Damien shouted urgently. His voice was coated with worry. "We can talk when we get there! Got it?!"

Seeing the situation was worse than he thought, Chester decided to swallow back his anger and kept up with the boy. He demanded an explanation, but the boy had nothing much to say other than Maxwell being dispelled when he sent it to the children.

Chester overtook him and gave him a sidelong glance. "I'll trust you on this. I'll head up there first, yeah?"

The man began speeding up. Not only did he possess over double the amount of AGI that Damien had, he was also wearing light armor. A pale blue energy coated his entire being, and Damien watched the man leap onto the low-hanging rooftops, jumping from building to building with ease.

Damien's mind was put at ease knowing his partner was alongside him. But that relief was short-lived. As he crossed further into familliar territory, he saw dark plumes of smoke rise from where the orphans' main base of operations was located. In the dark, overhead sky, the subtle orange glow from afar chilled the vampire to his core.

"No, no, no..."

He couldn't even describe the rest of the way to the base. Everything felt like a blur, until he finally reached it. The stench of acrid smoke only intensified, and a wave of heat washed over him.

Damien saw the base which he called home for the past week set aflame, crumbling slowly. The children were nowhere to be found. From a smaller distance away, Chester battled against two people; a dual-wielding blade master and a demihuman brandishing deadly claws. Several craters had formed on the ground as a result of the illusionist's flail. The man seemed distracted as he fought against the two, his eyes flitting between the battle and burning ruins.

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Chester had his chains wrapped around the blades of his opponent, but the shaggy-haired enemy discarded it with ease and ran for the illusionist, drawing another pair of daggers from under his robe. Damien identified him almost instantly; even if his face was disfigured beyond recognition, the way he fought along with the sinister, red aura surrounding his body was more than enough.

'Wood.'

Enforcer Wood's forward approach was stalled by a projectile careening straight towards his torso. He contorted himself just in time, ripping the robe right off his body and revealing his heavily-tattooed skin. The battle came to a screeching halt at the sudden intervention.

Looking at the spear crackling with electricity, halfway pierced into the ground, Oliver's eyes shook upon seeing the vampire teen who had humilliated him so. Chester, widening his eyes, shouted at Damien.

"Damien! I need you to hold them off! The kids are trapped inside! I could hear Alvis screaming inside!"

"Go." The boy's eyes were shadowed, as the flickering flames from the building behind him obscured most of his features. His voice was deathly quiet, and had the illusionist not been paying attention, he wouldn't have heard it.

Seeing the opportunity, the curly-haired man swung his flail into the building, trying to point it at an area that wouldn't result in the total collapse of the building.

BOOM!

It only took a few seconds for the illusionist to dive headfirst into the burning building. Oliver smiled, looking at the target he'd been looking for all this time. The Twilight Bandit's tattoos were far different in design from Chester's. They were written in runic scripts, like how one would see inscribed on magical artifacts like their instant cube. The enforcer tapped on the tattoo encircling his bicep and pulled out a jagged, mithril blade. The surface of Oliver's skin rippled slightly as he did so.

"Neat, huh?" He said with a crazed grin. He felt no fear against the boy. The power running through his veins was just low enough to keep him from immediately attacking. But he relished in the energy, savoring it like a divine dessert. "I got it done a few years back. Pricey, but I suppo-"

"Shut it." Damien said coldly. The spear, halfway buried into the ground, flew back into his hand. As the weapon sparked to life, it revealed the boy's face.

Pure rage.

His nose was flared, and he bit his lips so hard they began to bleed. Damien's eyes had dilated, turning a slight tinge of red. The way his face contorted resembled a demon. Withdrawing the shield from his back in one smooth move, the Shadow Knight stalked toward his victims with the intent to kill.

"You'll wish you were dead."

Oliver smirked. He was no fool; the boy was his superior in a head-on fight. But his plan didn't include a frontal confrontation. Glancing at the bloodhound at his side, he nodded his head in a sly manner.

"Kelzar, that's our target. Ready up." He tapped on his shoulder tattoo, withdrawing a pure-white blade, similar in appearance to marble. Despite his burning anger, Damien immediately recognized it as starsteel; a material exclusive only to the Church of Pernatia. A holy weapon. "We're going hunting."

"Shit!" Chester knew there wasn't much time left; with the hole he left in the home, the building was bound to collapse at any moment. He made sure to keep in the middle of the group, covering their heads with a wide umbrella made entirely of Attainium. Any burning debris landed safely, but the steadily increasing amount of rubble dropping down put a strain on the illusionist's arms.

He ordered Sheila to dig through his inter-dimensional pack and distribute the healing potions among them equally. The color returned slowly to Bentham's skin, and wounds along Alvis' body faded slowly but surely. it did nothing to address their energy and stamina, but it was enough to keep them from being in life-threatening danger.

Navigating through the burning rubble, the illusionist glanced backward at the spot the children had been. It was where a majority of their appliances and weapons had been located. It was drowning in a sea of fire. He balked at the idea of having been a moment too late, knowing that it was entirely too close for comfort.

"Careful, kiddos! Don't move too fast, or burning concrete falls on ya! Don't move too slow, or the burning concrete falls on you too!"

It didn't take long for them to see the exit; but his relief turned to horror when the human-sized hole crumbled into itself, blocking their only way out with flaming debris.

Cursing, he unclasped the striking head attached at his hip. With a single arm supporting the Attainium umbrella, he hurled the spiked, metal ball at the wall and let it detonate, clearing the opening once more.

"GO!" The curly-haired man said through gritted teeth. The explosion had shook the building to its core, further destabilizing the structure. It had been a long time since he put himself to the test physically in such a manner. His knees buckled, but he did his best to leverage the debris falling so it landed behind them rather than in front of the exit.

Bentham, Alvis, and Sheila, helped escort the children out, waiting by the exit to help them climb through and avoid the flames licking at their skin. Although their wounds had disappeared, the built-up fatigue could be seen from their every movement. Even throwing each orphan through the opening Chester made took their all.

That was why Alvis was slow to notice when the wall behind him slowly began to topple over.

"ALVIS!"

Bentham's arms reached out the second he saw the concrete begin to tip over, but it was too late. Bearing the shield which prevented the roof from collapsing over their heads, Chester could only watch as the clever orphan boy he came to view as an apprentice fell along with the burning rubble.

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