Free Web NovelIt happened in an instant.
Screams broke out as horses tumbled into one another. Suddenly, over one hundred soldiers were impaled in some way by a hailstorm of crystal needles. The formation came to an abrupt stop, and those who were still riding their horses were suddenly thrown from their backs.
“Stay! Stay! What’s wrong with you!?” One shouted, attempting to rein the horse.
“Stop moving before I kill you!”
“Something’s messing with their minds! Could it be a mental attack!?”
“Impossible! How are we not under its effect then!?”
The horses fought with everything they had, and eventually, they broke free from their masters. The horses that were uninjured suddenly began fleeing en masse from the way they arrived, abandoning the soldiers.
A plume of dust smothered the battlefield. People roamed and crawled, using their limbs to feel where they were going. Emerging from the haze was a scene straight out of a nightmare.
“Holy shit… Holy shit it’s coming out… What do I do!? What the fuck do I do!?” A woman screamed as she hovered her hands over her abdomen, where her entrails were spilling out.
Those who were uninjured did not have the slightest clue as to what to do in this situation. They had never found themselves overwhelmed to such an extent. No, not even that. They had never been put in a situation where even one of them was injured to such an extent.
Death was unheard of among the Redfiends precisely because the people they oppressed were incapable of fighting back. And this was despite their strength. A single Redfiend was as strong as a few dozen humans.
It was a recipe for disaster, because they had never experienced the hardships that came with working as a soldier.
“Head… spinning… Can’t hear… Hello…?” Another clasped their head as blood pooled from their ears.
“His arms are curled in. He’s so stiff! Move him to his feet!” Another began shaking the body of a peer whose arms were curling towards their head: posturing, as it was medically called.
But they did not know this. Nor did they know that by shaking him they had caused him irreversible damage. Of course, nothing was irreversible in a world with Healers.
“C-Can we bring them to the Capital? T-The Healer that’s there…!”
“But what about the red-hooded shooter that’s on the loose!?”
“Stop touching my leg! It burns! Water! Something! Get the grass out of my leg!”
It was the very depiction of hell.
But in reality, this was a common sight in war. If anything, it was rather tame. But they did not know this. To them, this was the most horrific situation.
It could be fixed. They just had to return to the Capital, get healed… and pray that something could be done to bring life back to the fallen.
However, this was only the tip of the hellish iceberg.
Before they knew what was happening, the smokestack disappeared, and the haze that engulfed them dispersed in an instant. Unimaginable pressure suddenly forced them to their palms and knees. It was not a mental attack. Organs that spilled began squelching as they were crushed underneath the invisible weight.
It was only then that they realized that the haze had not vanished. Rather, it was the same pressure that had caused the particles to collapse like bullets. Holes riddled the blades of grass beneath them, and few had their flesh dotted by microscopic holes.
“Can’t… move…”
“Chant… Quick chants… We cannot… Be taken down!”
“Begin casting!”
Chatter broke free among them, and rapid chants were made to counterattack this unknown entity. Blood spilled from their wounds, and the blood of their comrades pooled into floating, fist-sized orbs.
Then, they began spitting crimson needles in the direction of the village. They were certain this was where they were being attacked from. And if not, then they could at least take out the villagers: out of spite.
However, their [Blood Needles] did not hit their intended target. White light erupted from above the village like fireworks. The needles suddenly changed course and attempted to attack these flares, rather than the villagers.
“[Glitter Flare] works the same way as a flare does for heatseeking missiles.” A voice suddenly spoke from behind them in an aloof manner.
Their heads could not turn. The pressure kept them still as their eyes trembled in terror. They could not fathom how this presence had suddenly appeared behind them. But such thoughts were cut short as nothing but survival instincts hijacked any semblance of rationality they had.
Because they knew: instinctively: that they were in the presence of a Vampire of unimaginably pure blood quality. Third Generation? Unlikely. They knew the presence of Mary D’ Grace, and this pressure was several magnitudes more powerful.
A Second? Possibly. A First? Highly likely.
But even so, the First Generation Vampire of the Grace Bloodline had never made an appearance in the last two hundred years. Thus, it was impossible that this person was the Grandmother of the Grace Bloodline.
It brought a terrifying realization.
Because if they were not from their Bloodline, then how were they able to command their bodies?
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“Isn’t this awkward? I’ve never seen soldiers soil themselves after an enemy ambush. And you’re supposed to be the Redfiends of the Larin Empire? Aha? Am I looking at this correctly?”
A boot landed in front of a Vampire’s face. The figure walked past as they held both hands behind their back, wearing a disappointed smile on her face, as though she could not believe what she was seeing.
The Vampire struggled to comprehend how her steps did not leave an impression on the grass. Yet when she stepped on the head of a whispering Vampire–
*Crush*
–“It’s a bit rude to interrupt me.”
The boot rose from that head, and the fragments of skull, the bulging eye, the shattered teeth: it returned as life returned to that Vampire… Only for the boot to come crashing back down.
*Crush*
“When your life flashes before your eyes.”
*Crush*
“I wonder if you feel regret.”
*Crush*
“Remorse?”
*Crush*
“Empathy?”
*Crush*
“Has it ever crossed your mind?”
*Crush*
“As you crushed your own people.”
*Crush*
“Beneath your boots?”
*Crush*
Fragments of skull and brain matter pilled until it became a small mound. It wasn’t long until the Vampire beneath this person’s boot was drowning in their own bodily fluids. All eyes were on the golden eyed figure. She released a fine, red mist into the air, and the Redfiends were forced to breathe it in.
It further caused them to succumb to the command of this supreme being.
One brave Redfiend could not help but notice their strangely colored hair.
“… Multiple… colored hair…”
*Crush*
The next stomp released a devastating shockwave that instantly crushed the heads of thirty more. Their skull did not even shatter. What remained of their heads was pulverized bone and steaming blood. So sudden was the force that fluids had no choice but to evaporate.
Then, those same figures were brought back to life…
And no one could utter a single word of terror as they were forced to witness this, for they were in the presence of no mere First Generation Vampire.
Their blood boiled as the red mist settled into their lungs.
This being was beyond the hierarchy of the Vampires.
* * *
Frost despised them from the start.
After hearing how the Larin Empire had treated their people, and how the villagers were often given insufficient rations: it gave her an excuse to use them as stress toys.
A box containing vials of urine and blood was another reason why she took pleasure in torturing them. Such an act was inexcusable for a cognizant being.
Thus, she did not see them as cognizant at all, but as monsters.
She repeated the agonizing cycle of releasing a wave of ||Singularity||, only to revive them with the Mastery Skill of [Corporeal Restoration]: [The Sovereign’s Breadth]. So long as they contained her blood, and were within a close proximity of her, they could not truly die.
To test its extent, she grounded another fifteen into the earth until they were indistinguishable from the soil. Unfortunately…
“There is a limit to it. How sad. Now then. You.” She shifted her attention to a particular Vampire. “You seem to recognize me. I hope you haven’t only heard of me.”
She waved a finger in the air, and the Vampire stood on their feet, even though their legs were shattered. The command was absolute. Because of the way [Progenitor Art: Purpose: Commandment] worked, her Commandments had a more profound effect on Fifth Generation Vampires than it did on the villagers, who were Twenty-Eighth Generation Vampires.
The higher the blood purity, the more control she had on said person. Adding her own blood was a way to guarantee her control.
“Y-You’re… supposed to be in the Capital…!”
“Elaborate.”
“The… Healer… that came under the guidance of Mary D’ Grace… The one that can kill. Is that not you?”
“There are plenty of Healers that fit that description nowadays.” Frost shook her head, grinding her boots into the skull of a Vampire. “So one of my Healers are in trouble. That does put me in a problematic spot. And here I thought I could snap my fingers and watch the Larin Empire burn.” ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
“… You would… destroy an entire… Empire…? Like the… wrath of that shooter?”
“Why not? I’m sure this ‘shooter’ also had a reason. Last I heard a portion of the Larin Empire was destroyed by a Phenom of Contempt. Believe me, what they did will be a smidge by comparison.”
The faces of the Redfiends blanched. Taking on an Empire or a Kingdom was a feat that could not be accomplished even by a Color. The reason for this was because of the Gifts the Kingdoms possessed, which could at the very least, damage a Color enough to ward them away.
The only other beings that could eliminate a Kingdom off the map were Moons, Stars, and the Beholders.
Frost was neither of these.
“I asked you a question. Why should I let the Larin Empire continue to exist?”
In fact, she was worse.
Frost put on an innocent smile as she forced another Vampire to stand. She ran a finger along her teeth and then fed the drippings into that Vampire’s mouth, like a mother bird feeding her young.
“You see, my home has been defiled by the Larin Empire. Citizens of my home lost their lives. They had the audacity to enter my home…”
Boils began forming along the skin of the Vampire who consumed her blood.
“Ah… Ahhh…? Aaaahhh!?”
Crystal spines stitched their mouth shut, muffling their screams. The boils became oversized clumps resembling blood clots.
“… After working alongside the Impuritas, requesting a Healer? One of my own children?”
Before long, their body bloated until their face was covered in spiny, black crystals that bored into their head.
At some point, their body froze, and they began drooling on themselves. This was because one of the spines had performed a lobotomy. Their sense of self was contained only in their thoughts, and what became of their body was bloated, clotting mass of bloody crystals that vaguely resembled a heart.
Tendrils formed in its chest as it began weeping blood through pores. Through these pores were an array of needles that resembled a reverse iron maiden. They pushed out and then retracted into itself.
The needles pulsed like cilia. Soon, the body barely resembled the original, aside from their legs. They were now an upright leach with petals hanging from where their neck used to be like flaps of flayed skin.
One of the lesser-known effects of Frost’s blood was that it could inadvertently cause Qliphoth Corrosion. It was togglable thankfully, since this required her to use [Progenitor Art: Despair: Bloodrot].
For a Vampire, Qliphoth Corrosion meant becoming either a Sin or an Impuritas in the form of a Clot. Clots were not part of an Impuritas Group and were highly specific to Vampires.
However, what became of this Vampire was neither a Sin of Wrath nor a Clot in the sense that the Redfiends understood.
Cuddling Thrombosis
Denizen of the Amalgam
< Vampiric Origin >
SIN : Amalgamation | Wrath
LEVEL : 75ORIGIN : SinHP : 37,000
ATT : 100MAG ATT : 0ATT DEF : 250 MAG DEF : 0MP : 100
RESIST : 700AGI : 30
