Henry's legs chafed against the bare back of his horse as it galloped towards the nearest breach. The manic clone out in front of him might have had a head start, and was proving completely undeterred by the gaggle of vampires pouring into the warehouse around him, but ultimately the unthinking, unfeeling steed he rode in on steadily closed that gap.

It hurt like hell, but if he was going to get stuck in with the worst of the fighting they might as well not make the effort piecemeal.

Though, upon closer inspection… it's not looking like nearly as bad of a meat grinder as I anticipated…

Perhaps that reasoning needed some clarification. Certainly, there were plenty of vampire corpses to go around. Not quite enough to literally choke the breaches with their bodies, but certainly approaching that number. The currently living vamps had the luxury of merely stepping around their fallen comrades, rather than over them. Which… didn't matter that much when several of them kept meeting the same fate as those castaways shortly afterwards.

The spellshot being fired at the monsters was a bit of a mixed bag, but generally effective. Weight of fire was a team effort with cumulative effects, after all. Just because a rock to the face only made a vampire dazed and mightily pissed off didn't make the fireball immediately behind it any less effective. Yet another monster fell to the ground limp and lifeless, black scorch marks marring its pale skin.

A handful of tired cheers cried out in response. "Yeah! Take that! Who else wants some?!"

Even through his impromptu earplugs, the shout was familiar enough that it just barely managed to register for Henry. The booming echo of Martin's voice was unmistakable, and it appeared to him that he was doing his best to keep up morale for anyone still left fighting. Undoubtedly leading things recklessly from the front lines, the same way he'd done during the clash with the Knights. While he couldn't make him out from his position near the warehouse's sundered gates… that could be easily remedied.

He seems to be in good spirits… Henry thought. Maybe the situation isn't so bad, then?

Kicking the sides of his horse to spur it back into motion, he decided that the best way to find out would be to ask the man himself.

< -|- -|- >

In any other situation, Martin would have been the first one to admit that they were royally screwed.

It was hard to deny the facts when they were staring you right in the face. Their defenses were nowhere near adequate, their numbers too thin to hold against an incursion of this magnitude for much longer. That they had managed to hold out for this long already – and without a single death – was an achievement in and of itself, honestly. Motivation to try and avoid an even worse fate certainly played a part in it, but if he were a betting man, he'd probably put more stake in the actions he saw playing out around him rather than simple ideas.

"Shit! Ten more coming in from the north!"

"Cover me! I'm recharging!"

"Clear southwest! Get some Earth barriers down!"

Every mage, all thirty-odd of them, were moving in tandem like a well-oiled machine. Accuracy was no issue in such a desperate holdout, there was no shortage of targets to choose from after all. But every other factor was being accounted for at a level that impressed even him, considering they'd only been drilling for a few days to begin with.

It was taking all he had to simply not be outdone in the heat of the moment.

"We've got breathing room here now!" he shouted as he hopped down from his elevated position above the last line of fortifications. "You two, go help the others! I'll seal off the eastern breach while we've got time!"

He got a round of ayes in return, and the two mages standing by his side peeled off to go repel vampires approaching from the other directions. Excellent response times, the both of them. It made his job easier, too, since he needed to make sure nobody got caught in the crossfire for this next part.

"Come on, you freaks! You want us all so bad?! Then show me you can handle the heat!"

Facing the vampires pouring in from a hole in the wall alone, he held out both palms in front of him. Roaring gouts of flame erupted from each hand with a crackle. Before long, every surface within his field of vision was bathed in the stuff, and as the sounds of vampires screeching in pain reached his ears like sickly sweet music. He felt his stores of Fire Domain mana plummet with just a few moments of sustained Fire. Just that one attack ate up nearly half of his freshly restored reserve… but it had been more than worth it.

A wall of white-hot flames blocked off the breach in its entirety. He knew for a fact it would keep burning for a considerable amount of time on its own, licking at the edges of the corrugated sheet metal walls and hot enough that his lips felt chapped just from standing relatively close to it. And even that was a stretch of the definition of 'close'. He was still several dozen meters away from the actual source.

Needless to say, nobody would be coming in from that side anytime soon.

Now, if only I could get that done for all of… Shit!

So much for breathing room. Even more began pouring in from the other avenues of attack just as he turned around to help the others. As effective as their final, desperate killbox was proving to be, they were still on the verge of buckling under the pressure. Just from slightly different angles, now.

"Headcount!" he bellowed over the sound of him firing finger-width jets of superheated air at the oncoming tide of monsters. "Who's left on the lines?!"

Responses slowly trickled in one by one. Twelve, thirteen… About half, it would seem. The other half consisted of those who had burnt themselves out earlier in the fight, or had been unfortunate enough to have been bitten and only narrowly avoid demise.

He'd have to think up some proper rewards for the brave men and women who had pulled them back to safety before they could be fully drained… if they made it out alive. Every rescue effort had cost them ground that they couldn't really afford to be giving up, but he'd be damned if he wanted to see anyone die here today.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't…

They were boxed in, with no escape left. If the pressure didn't let up soon, they'd start running out of Domain crystals, and then-

"Holy shit, MARTIN! Friendly faces coming in from the north side! Henry's back!"

"HENRY?!" Martin blurted out with an uncharacteristic display of surprise. "Where the hell has he been-"

He didn't get a chance to finish that train of thought as he nearly died right then and there. A part of the bloody roof caved in above him, just narrowly avoiding taking his head off as a fresh batch of vampires dropped down from above. They were coming down quickly, far too quickly for him to be able to take them all out before they landed.

He made a solid effort regardless, flash-boiling the innards of one from afar in the short window of time he had. The rest managed to slip in past the defenses unmolested, smiling disturbingly past their sharpened canines as they landed directly in front of him.

For a split second, it occurred to him that he might be the first one out of the fight for good. They managed to fall nearly all the way to him… before a crisscrossing tangle of sharpened roots skewered the lot of them.

The sudden turnabout left him stunned speechless. But, he was at least able to give a gracious nod of approval to the one responsible for saving his life.

Claire, the single Flora mage they had with them, was a sight for sore eyes right this moment. In multiple senses of the phrase. Her hollow gaze watched the impaled monsters writhe on their wooden stakes, eyes red and puffy from a mix of frustration and catharsis. Her teeth ground against each other in a near-constant look of pent-up fury. It was hard to tell if it was a sneer, a grimace, or perhaps a mixture of both, but one thing was for certain.

It was complicated.

To tell the truth, she was acting almost like an entirely different person right now. So much so that he couldn't not be concerned about it, especially once he factored in the way she was staring down the batch of fresh kills.

She was looking at them like she was hoping one would mark the point of enough. That past a point, she could say that her dead son was avenged and he could rest easy. He could tell she was really getting desperate for that sign, or anything in a similar vein for that matter.

But something that wasn't there couldn't really be found.

"...You alright?" Martin asked.

She spat at the feet of the suspended corpses, roots retracting back beneath the earth as she watery glob sizzled against the steaming pile of black guts that spilled from the disemboweled vampires.

"Fuck off and kill something already," was the only response he got out of her.

She turned back to the other beleaguered defenses, holding a Flora crystal in her hand and draining the contents dry in less than a second.

He really wished she'd take better care of herself. As effective as her methods were short-term, her method of quickly dumping and recharging ran a serious risk of burning her out, too. It would fix itself with time, sure… but they didn't have all that much of that to go around right now.

He returned his attention to the battle around them, just as a cry of alarm rose from one of the other mages.

"Jesus! Three contacts, south side!!"

Panicked shouts rang out all along the primary defenses, and the ambient temperature raised by several degrees as an inordinate amount of spellshot was unloaded in that direction.

At first, he thought nothing of it. That many combat spells on just three vampires? Seemed like overkill, but since he was tied up keeping vamps off the other sides he could see merit in the decision. Considering how it looked like the numbers might be starting to stagnate, there was now a slight chance of them being able to clear out the smallest front and snowball their forces until only mop-up shots were left.

Then he noticed that the vampires he was shooting at were retreating away from that direction, and suddenly he got a lot more concerned.

He spun around just a second too late. Halfway through the process of pivoting to check on the south side, a burst of gale-force wind sent nearly every mage in the vicinity toppling to the ground. Martin himself only barely managed to stay upright due to being in the very rear of the formation relative to the attack. Besides him, only Claire managed to stay upright out of spite, and Henry reached their positions from the north just in time to encounter the newcomers alongside them.

Three beings approached from the warehouse's demolished back entrance. That was the best he could describe them as for now. Beings. Definitely not the friendly kind, either. The wind had dispersed the fog around them momentarily, allowing him a good look at the three, and what he saw he didn't want to believe was possible.

They looked like vampires, just… more so.

If they were indeed vamps, then this group was most definitely cut from a different cloth. Their skin was a pallid, ashen grey, rather than the smooth pale whiteness that every other vampire he'd laid eyes on bore. Arching, leathery black wings like bats trailed behind each of them like royal capes, and they had to be standing at least a head taller than the already imposing stature of their bloodsucking brethren. A malicious hint of red shone in the beady black orbs of their eyes, and their fangs were so long, they could no longer be concealed within their mouths.

Martin looked up at Henry for answers, not even clocking that he'd arrived on a skeleton horse of all things. It just seemed totally mundane in comparison, almost expected even.

"What the hell are those?" he asked.

Henry's answer came rushed, as if he was short on breath. More likely due to fear than shortness of breath from exertion.

"What we were hiding from. We need to get everyone out of here now-"

"Hmmm…" rumbled the sonorous voice of one of the interlopers. "It would appear that your underlings weren't as efficacious as you might have hoped for, Bishop Noapte. Perhaps a minor cut to your camp's division of spoils might entice your brood to do better next time?"

"The effectiveness of my kin would not be the first question on my mind, merchant." The one who had been named 'bishop' nearly spat that last word out, like it somehow triggered a gag reflex by merely sitting on the end of his tongue. "I seem to notice a distinct lack of contribution on your own part in this excursion. Surely, you of all people would understand that he who does not work, does not get paid?"

"Ah, but my brood has yet to be given a chance to prove its true value. Fighting is not our strongest suit, I will readily admit, but surely you understand how effectively we can wring the local… supply? Even old Măcel here can attest to that!"

"Hmph," grumbled the most martially dressed of the three. "I see only weakness before me in every direction. There is blood in front of us, ripe for the harvest! That you two only see a chance for new thralls betrays your own spinelessness."

"Now, now, Măcel," chided Noapte. "One must consider the future for our kind, as recent events have forced us to realize. There will be time for bloodshed later, but for now, we must secure a strong stock to build our foundations on."

"Bah! Farmers, the lot of you! Spineless, cowardly farmers who hide from your own heritage! Especially the likes of you, Carte Mare!"

The merchant sniffed in displeasure. "Someone's not much of a long-term thinker, are they?"

"Silence," the bishop interrupted. "There will be time for this prattle later. Right now, there is work to be done."

Pure revulsion welled in Martin's stomach as they began their approach once more. As the rest of the group that was still in fighting shape rose to their feet groggily, he stepped forward to plant himself in between the newcomers and the defenseless, alongside Claire and Henry.

"Be honest," he asked. "Who are they, and how far beyond saving are we right now?"

Henry's face soured. "Those are the vamps that control the thrall-camps in this area," he responded. "And, as for that second part, it depends. If they're totally devoted to working together? We never stood a chance to begin with. But if they're all as greedy as their reputation makes them out to be…"

From behind a few collapsed shelves a scream of bloody murder rang out, wielding a knife in each hand. One of Henry's copies had somehow managed to sneak up on the arch-vampires, and for some reason began spouting… absolute nonsense?

"The noose tightens, unknowing of the gallows it hangs from or the executioner who gave it form! Wiser are those who never dream of painless operations, and they who know the notion of man endeavor towards the enigma-"

An endless stream of babble poured out of the duplicate's mouth, his movements matching the deranged nature of his words as he lunged for the monster closest to him. The eyes of the one who had prided himself on being a warrior before now glinted in excitement. Whether brave or foolhardy was yet to be seen, but the other two definitely seemed to find this development unexpected.

Martin was right there with them on that one.

"Take the table scraps you came here for," Măcel told the other two with a sadistic grin. "I've found everything I need right here."

The pair of arch-vampires were more than happy to oblige, and the battlefield erupted once more.

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