Azrael stood among the butchered corpses of the hunters, his boots planted in still-warm blood that soaked into the moss beneath.
Azrael stopped and took a rapid look around him.
Bodies, mutilated.
The vampires feeding on them had backed away.
They felt the arrival of Azrael , and their primal instinct of fear told them to stand back.
In front of Azrael, Lysaria lay motionless, face pale, eyes wide but still breathing. Barely.
The poor mage was completely shocked, unable to do anything.
Her expression was literally screaming to save her.
But, the vampire who was holding her , was not there.
"W...who is this guy...?" Lysaria asked to herself, not knowing what to think.
His presence gave her chills down her spine.
For some kind of reason, she knew she was safe.
Azrael took some steps to get close to her and looked into her eyes.
Lysaria saw two big blue glowing eyes.
A celestial color, a miracle from the heaven.
"Hel-help... me..." She whispered, with a broken voice.
Azrael didn't reply.
He just took some other steps to stand in front of her, in a protective way.
The hunter then moved his gaze at another hunter that was not so distant from Lysaria: Kawara.
He had passed out, and he was without his arms.
Azrael had to be fast.
He wanted to save both Lysaria and Kawara.
After that, he then moved his gaze towards the dark forest in front of him and took a deep breath.
Every single sound died.
The voices coming from the village? Disappeared.
Not even a single cricket.
Only the wind.
Nothing.
Azrael took one single , deep breath and kept looking at the darkness in front of him.
He perfectly know who was there.
Hidden beneath the shadows, the vampires stood in eerie silence.
They no longer smiled.
Their mouths were still stained red, hands and fangs dripping from the recent feast becauuse something had interrupted the banquet.
Azrael.
A single vampire moved.
A small step — and with it, a faint sound. A high, almost imperceptible ting.
Wires.
Invisible threads stretched between trees. Dozens. Hundreds.
Deadly. Razor-sharp. Placed in silence by a master.
They were everywhere.
Azrael didn't move.
But his pupils contracted.
He had seen them.
Not with his eyes — with his instincts.
Every breath mapped the air around him.
Every twitch in the mist told him where not to step.
Then came the voice.
Smooth.
Polite.
And laced with pure, practiced malice.
"You move well… for someone so blind."
An elegant shadow slipped through the fog.
He walked like a noble, like a conductor on stage.
Symmetrical face.
Very tall, like a beast.
Thin lips curved in a knowing smirk, black long hair.
And, most importantly , Eyes of liquid gold, sign of his superiority.
Azrael perfectly knew that gold eyes meant an high grade vampire, someone who has Maria's trust.
His suit was black with embroidered silver.
Gloves, polished boots, a single crimson rose pinned to his chest — positioned to collect the first spray of blood.
"Shandrath," he said, with a sweeping bow. "Shandrath the Gourmand. General of Her Grace. Destroyer of sanctuaries. Collector of human eyes."
Even the fog seemed to bow with him.
Azrael said nothing.
He just threw multiple glances around him, to feel where the wires were.
Shandrath tilted his head, feigning offense.
"Oh, no bow in return? No gratitude for this little… artistic display?"
He gestured to the carnage — the torn limbs, the gutted torsos, the broken faces.
"You see, we vampires are often misunderstood. Some call us beasts. Others, demons. But I — I appreciate the art of death. The sound of cracking bones like flutes. The scent of fear mixed with old wine…"
Azrael finally spoke, voice low, cold.
"These hunters… were... innocent. There was no need to kill... "
Shandrath's smile widened.
"Oh, I perfectly know, but I wanted to reward my soldiers. This whole performance was staged… for you, Azrael Noctis. The legend. The slayer of kings. Our Queen wants to… study you."
"Shandrath... the one who had eaten innocent lives including children... he must die." Azrael repeated in his mind.
A step.
Then another.
Azrael shifted just enough — and a thread snapped in the air near his face, missing him by inches.
Shandrath chuckled.
"Careful now. My wires are very temperamental. They'll peel you apart before your nerves even realize it."
But Azrael wasn't stuck.
He wasn't trapped.
He was analyzing.
Each breath measured the terrain. Each heartbeat sent silent vibrations through the air.
Vampires to the south. Five, maybe six.
Three in the trees above. Two behind.
The wires — spiraled. Layered. A cage.
No. A stage.
Shandrath stepped closer, voice softening.
"Maria wants you alive. But me? I don't mind breaking a few bones first."
And that's when Azrael smirked.
Just slightly. Barely.
But Shandrath saw it — and something inside him froze.
"…What?"
Azrael raised his sword at a speed that not even a vampire could see.
He moved.
As if the threads weren't even there.
TINK.
One wire snapped.
Then another.
Azrael wasn't touching them. He was vibrating the air itself.
He was breathing at the exact frequency needed to undo the trap.
And then—
CRACK.
A single heartbeat pulsed through him.
And the air shattered.
Azrael moved.
He dashed behind the lord in front of him.
Not like a man.
Like judgment given form.
But his target wasn't him... for the moment.
Instead, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving Lysaria behind.
His targets were... the other vampires.
The one who fed on the young hunters.
Azrael didn't speak.
He just acted.
A single slash.
The first vampire in the trees dropped in two clean pieces.
Then, another slash and the second fell, split from shoulder to hip.
The third — impaled through the chest, still gasping for a name to curse.
They couldn't even scream in time.
Azrael acted to kill them as fast as he could, without wasting time.
Shandrath stepped back, panicked. With a snap of his fingers, he triggered the entire web.
Not even he had the time of react against the incarnation of death.
"Not so easy... Hunter." He said, with a nervous voice.
After his snap, thousand threads tightened that were around the area. Closed in.
He cut trough a lot of trees like butter.
But Azrael was gone.
He was inside the web, faster than it could kill.
"This… this isn't possible!""You were trapped!"
"No," said Azrael — now behind him."I was counting how many of you were hiding."
With a single slash, Azrael carved through the forest.
The entire wire trap exploded, even wounding Shandrath, who jumped back.
Invisible threads snapped mid-air, slicing harmlessly through mist and tree — but never Azrael.
A shockwave of light and silence followed.
The remaining vampires fell.
Some still standing, missing limbs. One tried to run — Azrael's sword flew like a harpoon, nailing him through the back into a tree.
Shandrath, panting, looked around.
It had taken no more than thirty seconds.
Azrael turned toward him, calm, deathlike.
Shandrath did the unthinkable for a general of Maria.
He ran.
He had understimated him.
A black blur disappearing into the mist.
Azrael didn't chase him.
"Loyal to Maria. But still a coward."
He turned.
He had decided to spare him.
Otherwise, Lysaria and Kawara would've been in danger, and saving human lives was his priority.
But, he perfectly knew that Shandrath would've come again, very soon.
His ego was too big, and he couldn't accept such a defeat, not from a human.
Behind him, Lysaria watched in disbelief.
"You… you just…"
Azrael walked over, pulling a small vial from beneath his cloak. A silvery healing tonic.
It was something that Freya had created for him.
A special tonic made with elfic magic, perfect to heal a lot of things.
He handed it to her.
To be specific, he threw it on the ground next to her.
"Drink. And forget tonight." He said, with a cold voice.
"Who… what are you?" Lysaria said, with a shocked voice.
She didn't even notice what happened around her.
Azrael looked towards the direction of the village.
Then answered, distant:
"A Human. Nothing more than a human." He said.
Lysaria's eyes widened in shock.
Azrael figure shone in the darkness of the night.
He looked like... a living legend.
Something that wasn't supposed to exist.
"..." Lysaria kept staring at him for some other moments.
"Drink. Or you'll get worse." He said, with a cold voice.
Lysaria snapped back to reality.
"Y-Yes..." She said, while rapidly drinking the tonic.
In an instant, a green light appeared on her, and her wounds completely healed.
"T-There's no more pain..." She said, in a suprised way.
Then, Azrael again after waiting for her to drink, to go check on Kawara.
The forest remained.
But now, it trembled.
Because Azrael had arrived.
And the true hunt had just begun.
He had to go back to the village to help Freya and save the two remaining hunters.
The smell of blood hadn't gone away.