The corridor stretched endlessly before Lucy, its walls engraved with forgotten tongues. The air vibrated with ancient energy, and the torches burned in shades of green and blue, casting trembling light upon the corroded metal and cracked stone.
The vampire advanced in her demonic form — wings unfurled, eyes burning like molten suns, the echo of her boots reverberating like thunder through the hall.
Then, the ground began to tremble. Figures wrapped in ancient linens crawled out from the walls — mummified corpses, their brittle flesh covered in torn bandages, strange symbols from the underworld seared into their chests. Their hollow eyes burned with ghostly green light as they shambled toward her.
Lucy cracked her neck and smirked.
"Oh, great… mummies. I almost missed the smell of mildew."
One leapt toward her. Lucy turned, swinging Dracallion in a single, blazing arc that split the creature in two — sending rags and dust spiraling through the air.
More emerged, crawling from every direction. Lucy opened her wings and launched upward, hurling crimson bolts of energy from her palms. The mummies erupted one after another, the air thick with ash and smoke.
One clutched at her leg — she spun the sword downward, slashing through the floor, releasing a shockwave that disintegrated it completely.
Another lunged at her throat — Lucy caught it by the face and, with a sharp twist, tore its head clean off.
Silence returned. The hall reeked of old blood and burnt decay.
Lucy drew a long breath. Her skin began to lose its crimson hue as her wings folded and vanished. She returned to her usual form, wiping the blood from her lip.
"Well," she murmured,
"that was fun… Time to move on with the sightseeing."
Ahead lay a long, twisted bridge suspended over an abyss of green fire. The chains holding it creaked under their own weight, and the heat made the air ripple like a mirage. Lucy stepped forward, each footfall echoing like a drumbeat in the void.
Then came another sound — metal striking metal.
Tok… tok… tok…
Like a horse trotting in the dark.
She stopped, raising her blade.
From the shadows at the far end of the bridge, a carriage emerged — wreathed in green flames, pulled by a headless horse whose mane was pure spectral fire. Its wheels scorched the ground as it drew near, shrieking like lost souls.
Lucy laughed.
"Speak of the devil… a horse."
The beast halted before her, the inferno where its head should've been flaring wildly.
"A horse race, huh?" she said, rolling her wrists, taking stance.
"Fair enough…"
The horse screamed, and in the next instant charged forward, dragging the flaming carriage behind it. Lucy dashed in the opposite direction, her boots skidding across the molten bridge as chains snapped and sparks flew.
She dodged falling debris, vaulted over fissures, firing her pistols to slow the creature down.
The horse leapt overhead and landed before her, blocking the path. Lucy slid beneath its burning legs, spinning as she slashed — her blade severed one of the carriage wheels.
The vehicle exploded in green fire. The blast shattered a portion of the bridge, sending Lucy and the horse plummeting into the crimson abyss below.
When the dust cleared, Lucy stood upon a slab of broken stone — a ruined underground coliseum surrounded by shattered pillars and ghostly torches.
The horse rose amid the flames, letting out a hollow, deafening scream, its hooves cracking the ground beneath it.
Lucy stretched her neck and grinned.
"First a horse, now a gladiator arena? This day just keeps getting better. Shame there's no audience for my performance."
The beast charged, and the battle began.
It struck like a comet, hooves blazing. Lucy dodged to the side, slicing one of its front legs clean off. The creature shrieked but twisted mid-motion, its hind legs striking her squarely in the chest — sending her crashing into a pillar.
She coughed, blood spilling from her mouth.
"Nice kick… You'd kill at the Kentucky Derby."
The horse charged again. Lucy opened fire —bullets ricocheted, but a few pierced through the burning flesh, releasing bursts of emerald smoke.
She ran straight toward it, sprinting up its body, plunging Dracallion where its neck should've been, twisting the blade until it unleashed a crimson burst.
The horse thrashed, throwing her off. Flames engulfed the coliseum.
Lucy rolled, grabbed her Demonic Staff, and in a spinning strike, shattered the creature's hind legs. A dry crack resounded. The horse collapsed, panting, its body fracturing into arcs of green light.
Lucy, bloodied and breathless, approached slowly.
"Easy there, stallion… The show's over."
She drove her sword into its chest. The beast let out one final spectral scream before erupting into green fire, its body dissolving into a floating trail of energy that formed a shining path toward a stone archway — the exit.
Lucy exhaled, resting the sword on her shoulder.
"A performance worthy of applause… Too bad the crowd sucked."
She followed the glowing path, fading into the darkness beyond.
Elsewhere, Nyra walked through the castle's inner chambers, her boots echoing against the metal floor. She reached a vast circular hall. In its center glowed a magic circle, carved with ancient runes that shimmered faint blue.
She approached slowly, her katana resting on her shoulder, her sapphire eyes locked on the floor.
Then came a sound from behind — heavy steps, claws scraping steel.
She turned.
From the portal of shadows crawled Fenroth, the giant wolf Lucy had faced. His body was shredded with wounds, dripping blood. Both eyes were gone, yet they still burned with pure rage.
"I found you… seed of Ulisses," he growled. "I told you I'd smell your blood! No matter where you run, you can't escape me!"
Nyra said nothing. She leapt, landing gracefully atop his neck. Her katana slid silently from its sheath.
The wolf snarled, trying to turn.
"You're not the one I fought before… but that scent — there are two of you. So the wretched Ulisses had two daughters —"
Shing!
A clean, cutting sound split the air.
Nyra sheathed her blade. The wolf's head fell, rolling across the floor. His blood evaporated into blue mist as the massive body collapsed.
Nyra stared down at the corpse with icy calm. Then she extended her hand. From the body rose streams of silver and blue energy, wrapping around her arms and legs, forming magical gauntlets and greaves that gleamed like polished steel.
She examined the new armor, her eyes glinting with silver light.
Then she jumped — her kick struck the corpse, hurling it against the ceiling. When it fell, she slashed the air, releasing a wave of energy that disintegrated the remains completely.
Nyra turned back toward the glowing magic circle.
The runes burned brighter.
She smiled.
"The seal... is almost open."