Lower District – Ravenhold Inn
Morning sunlight broke through the gaps in the window of room number nineteen at the Ravenhold Inn. The light fell directly onto the face of a beautiful woman with silver hair and blood-red eyes who was standing in front of the window glass—Diane. Swiftly, she closed the window curtains until her face was no longer visible from the outside.
"It is morning already, Kein. Wake up," said Diane, standing beside the bed with its sturdy teak wood foundation.
"Diane, let me hug you a little longer," mumbled Kein, who had not yet fully awakened from his dream. "I like this, Diane. I didn't expect it to be this soft leaning on you."
"KEIN," Diane called out in a tone that was slightly firmer yet still gentle.
"Diane!" Kein shouted. He suddenly jolted awake and straightened his back, followed by the creaking sound of the wooden bed supports under the weight of his body.
"What were you doing in that strange dream of yours, Kein?" Diane asked while straightening the back of her skirt and sitting on the edge of the bed where Kein had been lying.
"Just a dream of us living together as a couple," Kein answered while turning his face toward the window for a moment, before finally looking back into Diane's eyes and asking, "Diane, did you stay awake all night?"
"Yes. Your bite last night made it hard for me to sleep, Kein," Diane answered softly while her fingers brushed Kein's hand for a fleeting moment. "No, I was just waiting for you to fall asleep. Now I am sleepy. Let me sleep on the bed first, Kein."
With agility, Kein rose from the bed and gave space for Diane.
The woman sat on the edge of the bed, her hands moving behind her head to release her silver clip. Instantly, the twisted crown hairstyle was undone, falling freely to cover her back like a silk curtain. She laid her body down, letting her silver hair spread across the pillow, then pulled the blanket up to her chest.
"Renting a room with two separate beds—what a total waste, Diane," Kein grumbled while standing by the side of the bed with a look of bewilderment.
"I just did not want the old man downstairs to think of anything inappropriate, Kein," Diane replied softly. Her eyes were already closed, but the corners of her lips formed a thin, mischievous smile. "I just want to sleep like an ordinary noblewoman. You stay awake and wait for me to wake up, Kein."
Kein could only nod with a smirking lip. He stood leaning against the wall, folding both arms in front of his chest while gazing at Diane, who was now fast asleep like a sleeping beauty.
Time crawled slowly. The sunlight that was once bright behind the curtains gradually dimmed, replaced by an orange glow peeking through the fabric gaps. It was only when the situation outside turned to twilight that Diane opened her eyes again.
"Kein," Diane called out softly to the young man standing beside her bed.
"You slept very soundly, sleeping beauty. Was your rest enough?" Kein asked in a teasing tone after seeing his master asleep all day.
Diane remained silent and did not answer; she slowly straightened her back and sat on the edge of the bed. Diane closed her eyes for a moment, arranging the thoughts in her head before finally looking toward Kein. "Let us get out of here, that is enough rest."
Kein watched in silence as Diane stood slowly from the bed. With practiced movements, the woman skillfully twisted the hair at her temples again and locked it with the silver clip, before finally putting on her fedora.
Diane's index finger touched the young man's chest. "Erase this endless misery, and dim the pain that tortures me," Diane uttered, which was a magic spell to reduce negative effects—Protection from negative aura. "That sun will not be able to burn you today."
"Thank you, Diane," Kein said. He walked out, leading the way from the room that still held the scent of wood and honey candles. Kein turned the metal key, then pulled the door handle slowly—it did not feel as cold as last night.
Diane stepped out first while Kein held the thick wood, before finally pulling out the metal key resting in the handle. The door was closed silently by Kein as he moved to leave the room. He did not forget to lock the door and handed the key to Diane.
They walked side by side through the corridor, passing the thick wooden stairs that occasionally creaked when stepped on, until they finally arrived downstairs. The old man from last night was still standing behind his reception desk.
"Thank you for the room, it was quite comfortable," Diane complimented, then turned to join Kein who was waiting.
"May milady's journey in this city be pleasant. Ravenhold will always be open for milady's return," the man greeted, slightly bowing his head. The small bell above the exit door chimed, marking the departure of the two guests.
The silence of the Lower District began to be left behind, replaced by a noisy atmosphere after walking several blocks away from Ravenhold. Their footsteps brought Diane and Kein into the hustle and bustle of the Trading District, the heart of Erandel that never truly rests.
The two of them walked side by side along the stone sidewalk that was beginning to grow damp with evening dew. Along the way, red brick buildings and old wooden structures stood tall, emitting the impression of a city caught between tradition and progress. Occasionally, a horse-drawn wagon passed by, competing for space with a group of cloaked wizards and armored knights walking in a hurry.
Among the crowd of neatly dressed people, their sense of smell caught a strange yet alluring blend of aromas—the sweet fragrance of bread fresh from the oven, meeting the sharp scent of hot iron carried by the wind. Erandel was at the peak of its business, preparing to welcome the slowly descending night.
Diane pulled over toward a stone shop; its warm wheat aroma instantly enticed her. On a long, rough wooden table, rows of warm breads that had just been lifted using an iron peel from the stone fireplace in the corner of the kitchen were lined up. Behind the pile of bread, a stout middle-aged man stood with a steady posture. His height did not even pass Diane's shoulder, his arms were muscular, and there was soot on his gloves.
"It seems the bread you baked looks delicious, Dwarf," Diane pointed with her right index finger at a thick long bread. "I want to buy it."
"Good taste, Lady. This is a bread with melted cheese inside when split in two," the Dwarf nodded, while his fingers gently pulled his long white beard.
"Give me one of those warm breads, and cut it into two parts," Diane requested while placing a single gold coin. With agility, the Dwarf's muscular hand swung a large knife, splitting the bread until liquid cheese seeped out from behind the crisp wheat crust. He wrapped it in a sheet of coarse paper, which was immediately taken by Kein.
"Keep the change for yourself as a tip for serving such delicious food," Diane said without looking back. Her steps had already begun to distance themselves from the bakery. "Kein, hurry up."
The Dwarf was stunned, staring at the gold coin shimmering on his table; its value far exceeded the price of a single bread. Meanwhile, Kein, still holding the two pieces of warm bread, immediately looked over. He managed to nod respectfully once more to the still-stunned Dwarf, before finally jogging to catch up with Diane's shadow which was beginning to be swallowed by the crowd.
The young man gave one of the breads he carried; with a small bite, Diane chewed the dense wheat filled with cheese. "It tastes sweet, like the pancake yesterday," Diane praised, while wiping her thumb across her red lips that were left with a smear of cheese. "Try it, Kein."
"You really like human food, Diane. Even though the taste is just ordinary compared to the nutrition you gave last night," said Kein, looking toward the woman walking gracefully beside him.
They continued to step through the heart of Erandel, leaving the market's noise behind them. The further they walked toward the outskirts of the city, the noise gradually subsided, replaced by a biting silence. The neat stone streets now changed into damp and uneven dirt roads as they entered the suburban area.
Diane stopped right in front of a rusted old iron gate—the entrance to a forgotten cemetery area.
"Kein, there are many vampires here," Diane whispered. Her voice was barely audible, yet capable of making one's hair stand on end. Along with her words, a thick white fog began to crawl up from the gaps in the mounds of earth, swallowing their vision in an instant. Kein immediately tightened his grip, taking a stance by Diane's side.
From behind the suffocating fog, several winged human silhouettes appeared strangely. Without warning, one of the red-eyed female figures darted quickly toward him, cleaving the fog like a bullet. As the distance closed, her arms were clearly visible, throbbing with a pale red color—like skinless meat—and long black claws, ready to rip.
A moment before those claws could tear Kein's face, the sound of hissing air was heard followed by the appearance of a transparent pink whip made of pulsing pure energy—Psionic Whip.
CRACK!
The whip struck the creature's chest with a force capable of splitting the air. A piercing scream broke out as the attacker was thrown violently, her body dragged across the damp grave soil until it crashed into an old headstone, shattering it.
"Kein, do not be careless!" Diane shouted. Her voice split the silence of the night, jolting Kein from his state of being transfixed.
The second wave came without mercy. This time, four monster silhouettes darted simultaneously from different directions, breaking the fog with terrifying speed. Kein immediately raised his weapon, his thumb agilely cocking the flintlock. Once the trigger was pulled, the muzzle of the pistol barked, spitting out a silver projectile that shimmered behind the fog.
BANG!
The bullet plunged right into the heart of one of the creatures, making it slump down before it could even touch the ground. The sharp smell of sulfur and gunpowder immediately wafted out, fighting with the scent of wet earth. With one snapping motion, Kein broke his metal barrel, inserting a new bullet from the gaps in his belt, while Diane flicked her whip calmly and elegantly toward the remaining targets.
"That strange weapon of yours is truly impractical, Kein. You should have brought your scimitar on this journey," the woman beside him snapped in a flat but smooth tone.
The four winged creatures slumped on the ground slowly began to crawl back up. Without giving them a pause, they darted together. Kein fired his weapon again into the heart of one of the creatures, while the rest were too close for Diane to strike.
CLANG!
The sharp claws struck a transparent pink dome—Psionic Shield—that suddenly enveloped them. Sparks of energy flew as the impact occurred, but Diane remained standing firm without budging. Kein was momentarily transfixed staring at Diane's face, which was so calm facing this situation.
Diane's right hand reached out, her blouse sleeve sliding down slightly to reveal smooth white skin. With one thrust of her hand to the side, the shield exploded in a wave of energy that blew back their enemies. Before the two monsters could even regain their footing, her Psionic Whip was already dancing again, decapitating them in one elegant motion. The thick red blood of the monsters flooded the grave soil, clashing with the scent of gunpowder that still hung in the air.
"Thank you, Diane," said the young man who had just finished reloading his weapon's bullet.
"It seems they are spawn using their Master's Legacy," Diane explained, her eyes watching the monster corpses change into female forms. "Soon their Master will arrive. Do not be reckless, Kein."
The atmosphere around the grave suddenly turned silent; the aroma of gunpowder slowly faded, replaced by the fresh, quiet air as the full moon reached its peak.
Amidst the thinning fog, the sound of rhythmic clapping echoed through the headstones. A man emerged from the darkness, the sound of his leather shoes steady on the wet ground. He wore a very neat black suit, contrasting with the chaotic blood around him.
His face looked to be about the same age as Kein, but his blood-red eyes radiated a natural cunning. He ran a hand through his neat, straight black hair, then threw a thin smile that did not reach his eyes.
"Good, very good," his voice sounded melodious yet cold. "Very elegant. You finished off my pets without breaking a sweat. It is an honor to meet someone as strong as you in a slum like this."