There was a crowd outside when they stepped out of the witch's shop, angry glares directed at them.
Ruoxi walked right behind Dulce, ignoring the cold glares he got from both Demons walking behind him. He took in the place that his summoning had brought him to, a lively brightness to his gold eyes.
How many centuries had it been since he left his glided cage, five? six? He glanced down at the Vampire who had rescued him, finding nothing out of the ordinary. He knew that the Vampire couldn't be ordinary, not if his summoning circle was able to get to him, right in the Holy City.
So the most important thing to him right then was keeping the Vampire alive, until he found a way to escape being taken back to his prison when the summoning was undone. There was also a much grimmer consequence lying in wait - he studied the Vampire's pale features - he could only take the option he was presented with.
Kath'tan watched Dulce nervously wave in apology to the silent crowd of people running them out of the alley. The foolish Vampire might have saved him, but he damned him in equal parts by directly summoning his assassin. And now... he couldn't say if he was in danger or not.
The foolish Vampire's situation was no better, despite being immortal, he very effortlessly found ways to put himself in danger that surpassed mortal boundaries. He glanced at the Shadow Demon, despite Dulce's foolishness, a recreant was willing to be loyal because of him - his jaw clenched.
Individual strength was rarely lauded among Fiends because their only battles were with the opposing faction. So Kath'tan's pathetic lack of strength was being thrown in his face for the first time - here, he wasn't going to be given soldiers, no matter how few their numbers were.
Anger burned amidst the purple flames in his eyes, losing track of when his embarrassing lack of strength became less about survival and more about pride. If the shifty Incubus decided to ignore the Vampire's unsteady refusal, the Shadow Demon was perhaps the only one who could stand in his way.
And with how tense Asael had been since they came across the wily Demon, he was beginning to doubt the assassin's advantage if a fight did break out. It was almost like with each ritual, the Demons summoned were increasingly stronger, it was the worst kind of improvement.
Dulce sighed in relief when they stepped out of the dark alley. Time seemed to stop in the strange, hidden corner, because when they came out, the sky was layered in shades of red and orange, the sun setting. They had spent longer than he had thought, but fortunately, the coachman was still waiting for them outside.
The coachman approached, now somewhat familiar with the group he had traveled with across towns. "Done with what you came to do?" He asked expectantly, hoping that he had managed to land a return job as well.
"Not quite," Dulce said sheepishly, "We need to travel to the capital of Alderth."
The coachman stared at him like he couldn't understand a word that was said. "You plan to leave the country?" He repeated, disbelief coating each word.
"Yes, so..."
"I'm afraid I can't do that," The coachman shook his head vigorously, like he was trying to remind himself that no pay was worth such an uncertain journey.
"If it isn't Lord Montesserat." A strange individual inserted themselves into the conversation, he was completely covered up, gloves on his hands, a scarf around his neck, and a mask on his face. With a hat worn underneath his large black umbrella, he cut an incredibly strange figure.
Dulce pretended not to see him, looking away in an obvious manner. "Are you sure you don't have the wrong person?"
"I'm hurt, my Lord. You have forgotten me." The stranger placed a gloved hand over his chest.
"Or perhaps you have the wrong person," Ruoxi invited himself into the conversation, smiling harmlessly, his sharp, slanted eyes crinkling at the corners.
The stranger paused, and through the dark eye holes of his mask, flashes of red could be seen. "You're certainly mouthy for a servant." He stared right through the Demon, not at all surprised by the creature's presence or the sheer number of them around Dulce.
"I overheard you saying you needed to travel to Alderth," The strange Vampire only addressed Dulce, his tone one of veneration tinged with fear. "I would be honored to provide you a spacious carriage to that effect, if you would do me the pleasure of having dinner at my manor." There was a pause after he spoke, and he seemed to lean back like he was about to take a few steps back.
The coachman wisely backed out of the conversation; it seemed a solution to his worries had arrived, but beyond the strange but certainly important individual who had shown up out of nowhere, he could see two expensively made carriages with cloaked and masked individuals staring out of open windows.
Whatever trouble this strange group had gotten itself into, he didn't want to be a part of it. So as soon as he got to the carriage, he rode off, not caring that he could be seen by his employers.
The two Vampires present stopped to watch the carriage hurry off, one completely covered from the last rays of the setting sun, and the other warmed by the gentle illumination.
"I'll be happy to offer you a ride to my manor," The strange Vampire said into the dusty silence that remained, and despite the mask on his face, a smile could be heard in his voice.
Dulce was torn, other Vampires would only serve to draw attention to him. He had lost a substantial part of his memories, but his distrust of Vampires ran deeper than that. He would prefer that they walk to Alderth rather than take the Vampire, which he could most certainly not recognize up on his offer.
He snuck glances at the Demons behind him, despite his intense reluctance, he needed to find the witch as soon as possible. "You really don't have to," He murmured half-heartedly.
"Oh, but I insist," The Vampire applied pressure, taking a step closer.