Now that he'd set the modest goal of killing that damn vampire, it was time to put the plan into action. Sure, there was still a good chance he could just find a room and teleport back, but, what if he couldn't?
Besides, after suffering such a huge loss, was he really going to just let it slide?
No way. He had to strike back, and hard.
But before carrying out the plan, Allen needed a little help.
They say the biggest difference between humans and animals is the conscious use of tools, which, granted, is a pretty useless thing to say in most situations.
The real issue in front of Allen now was simple: he didn't have the right tools.
Trying to dismantle a Gundam barehanded was a bit much, even for him, which was why the very first place he ran to was the wizards' tool room. Or more accurately, the most important place in the entire castle, the Wizard's Tower.
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
Even though he was on the run, burdened with the responsibility of having pissed off a powerful vampire, Allen still couldn't help feeling a twinge of admiration.
There was no denying it, the previous owner of this tower really knew how to play.
In a way, she could absolutely be compared to a certain famous collector from the East.
That guy built a lavish underground palace for his collection of figurines, while this witch? She dedicated half the Wizard's Tower to preserving her precious memories.
It was a curated treasure trove containing everything from the time she was five up to adulthood, the complete childhood collection of Isolt Sayre, the founding headmistress of Ilvermorny .
Lost strands of hair, worn-out clothes, discarded toys...
All meticulously sorted, categorized, and perfectly preserved, most likely with permanent enchantments.
Only magic that powerful could protect such delicate items from time, wear, and fury.
Allen suspected he was the only one who'd even bothered to ask what was inside. The others probably made a beeline straight for the lab. He could only imagine their faces when they opened the room, expecting treasure, and instead found this. Hilarious, probably. Maybe even tragic.
May Merlin bless their poor hearts, they'll need it.
Allen raced upstairs. Thankfully, despite being a weirdo, the witch had kept her lab in perfect order. He quickly found the materials he needed.
Now then, everything was ready, all that was left was the "eastern wind."
But this time, he didn't need to call the wind. It wasn't some shy beauty to coax out with poetry, nor was it a weapon to bring peace through nuclear force.
No, this "wind"... was the madman chasing him.
Allen had once again managed to shake him off temporarily, just long enough to finish his makeshift tools.
Now he was in position, just waiting for his lunatic pursuer to catch up.
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
"You're pretty fast for a brat," the vampire sneered, panting slightly. "But all that running was useless. This lab, my lab, is warded against Apparition. I don't know what kind of trick you used to jump through short distances, but it won't help you anymore. This time, you're not getting away."
The long chase had clearly worn the vampire out, though his pride still blazed. Even for a vampire, age took its toll. His magical power vastly exceeded that of most others, but his stamina was no longer what it once was.
That's why he was willing to take such a big risk. Once they grew old, without a new generation of quality blood to replenish the clan, who would uphold their legacy?
Unfortunately for him, the little wizard standing in front of him, so gifted and full of potential, had shown not a hint of compromise. The boy dashed straight toward another room.
And of course, the vampire couldn't just let his prey escape, especially not a genius with such promising blood.
Yes, such a gifted individual had to receive the blood of Slytherin. That was what William took the most pride in during his long years as a vampire, that no matter how brilliant a person might be, once they became his progeny, all glory ultimately belonged to Slytherin.
It was the name he chose after abandoning his own.
Fresh prey. For Allen, William had called off the search for the other rats, sending every vampire to scour every corner of the castle.
He was willing to sacrifice all other gains, even his own legacy, for this boy. After all, what use is a legacy without someone to inherit it? They had more than enough; one more would only be the cherry on top.
But the moment William turned the corner and caught up with the boy, he completely abandoned his earlier conclusions.
It was a slap to the face at the speed of light, but he didn't feel even a hint of shame.
Instead, surprise, delight, flooded his expression as he read the runes on the wall. Each word spoke directly to his soul, as if he were born understanding them.
Parseltongue. Or rather, Serpent Speech.
The runes told a single, unmistakable truth: this place, this massive inheritance, originated from Salazar Slytherin himself.
And if he could pass the trials, he would receive that very inheritance.
Praise be to Cain!
Then suddenly, the force he hated most in this world struck him from behind.
Because of course, why else would Allen bring him here?
A sneak attack never goes out of style. It might as well be the MVP of every desperate fight.
Stunned, silenced, paralyzed, William was hit with a cascade of disabling spells. For a full three seconds, the mighty vampire was completely immobilized.
Three seconds is a long time, long enough to do a lot, even against a transformed vampire.
Even if Allen didn't have the power to instantly kill him, it didn't matter. What mattered was the magical array glowing on the ground beneath him.
As Allen tossed his final tool into place, William's expression twisted with a mix of emotions: regret, shock, hatred, despair…
Protective arrays often doubled as destructive arrays. The highest-tier protection spells had a hidden rule: if the intruder lacked the proper clearance, the magic would obliterate the contents, rather than let them fall into the wrong hands.
But Allen had never intended to take anything.
On the contrary, he wanted to help the array obliterate its contents, along with the thieves trying to steal them.
Destruction was never hard, especially for someone trained by that teacher.
In the final moments, William broke free of the spell's grip. His first instinct was to charge at Allen, who was already standing in the middle of the now-activated teleportation array.
He didn't know how the kid pulled it off, but he knew that array. It was for teleportation.
As he stepped into it and unleashed a spell powerful enough to kill the boy...
...he clearly saw Allen mouth a single word:
"Goodbye."••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
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