The woman's fangs gleamed pale in the moonlight. The drunkard just stared, slack-jawed, as if trying to decide whether he was dreaming. His bucket slipped from his hand, striking the stones with a hollow clang that carried through the square like a bell tolling for him.
I didn't wait for the scream.
"System," I whispered in my mind. "Armor select."
Letters of fire bloomed before my eyes—gold and ghostly, hovering in the dark like living embers.
[AVAILABLE ARMOR SETS – 3]
Three silhouettes unfolded in the air, each faintly translucent, flickering with runic lines. The first was Scout's Leathers—light, flexible, built for speed. The second, Reinforced Plate—dense with overlapping steel plates. The third, Obsidian Weave—a dark mesh humming faintly with kinetic runes.
Speed over bulk. Always.
My hand rose, tracing the fire-script until my finger touched the first silhouette. The selection flared. Light surged outward, rippling across my body like a second skin.
The armor materialized over my clothes—no seams, no buckles, just seamless formation. The leather darkened to matte black, fitted to my limbs, layered with thin plating across the chest and forearms. I flexed once; it moved with me like breath.
System link confirmed.
A low hum filled my veins. The night sharpened.
Across the square, two other flares answered—Landon's armor blooming in pale gold, Chloe's in silvery blue. They looked like figures torn out of a myth. We met eyes across the dark, nodded once, and moved.
The vampires leaned closer to the drunkard. He blinked at them, muttering something about fine ladies in the night. The woman smiled. Her tongue passed over her teeth.
And then I broke cover.
The first step was quiet; the second was a blur. By the third, I was already drawing from the System armory—ten weapon slots flared before me in a fan of firelight. I chose the one I trusted most: Silver-Edge Falchion, a curved blade that hissed faintly when drawn, forged for creatures that bled corruption instead of blood.
The sword solidified in my hand with a metallic sigh.
Target acquired.
I hit the square just as the woman lunged for the man's throat. My blade came up in a streak of silver. Metal met flesh. Her snarl split the night.
"Now!" I shouted.
Chloe and Landon exploded from the shadows. Landon's greatsword caught the nearest male vampire mid-charge, cleaving through its shoulder. Chloe spun low, twin daggers flashing—only one weapon drawn, the second phantom shimmering as backup in her off-hand.
The drunkard screamed. Or tried to. Then Landon's fist caught him square in the jaw, knocking him cold before he could get himself killed.
"Thank you," I hissed.
"Don't mention it," Landon grunted, parrying claws that sparked against his blade.
The vampires regrouped fast—faster than I liked. The woman hissed a word in some ancient tongue, and the two males fanned out, eyes burning, movements blur-swift. They weren't human fast; they were nightmare fast, a flicker-and-gone kind of motion that left afterimages in the fog.
Warning: speed differential detected.
Recommendation: anticipate, don't chase.
I ducked as claws sliced where my neck had been. The air sang. I countered with a low slash aimed at knees; the blade bit deep, met bone. The vampire screamed, backhanded me so hard my vision went white.
Pain flared. My armor caught most of it, dispersing the impact like a shiver through the plates. I rolled, came up on one knee, breath hissing.
Damage minimized. Focus maintained.
Across the square, Chloe vaulted over a trough, landing behind another vampire. Her blade slid under its ribs, quick and clean. It shrieked—inhuman and furious—twisting to strike her. She ducked, barely missing a claw that tore through her braid.
"Watch your left!" I yelled.
"I see it!"
Landon moved like a hammer to our knives—every blow of his sword ringing through the air. One vampire lunged; he pivoted, catching its wrist, twisting, and driving his blade through the heart. The creature convulsed.
Then it ignited.
Fire burst from the wound outward, devouring it from inside. The vampire's scream dissolved into smoke, and what was left collapsed into burning ash that scattered across the cobblestones.
"One down!" he called.
"Two to go!" Chloe answered.
The woman vampire hissed, fangs bared. "You dare?" she spat, voice reverberating like two tones at once. "This is our night!"
"Not anymore," I said.
She came for me.
We clashed in the middle of the square, blades and claws sparking in moonlight. She was stronger, her strikes heavier, faster—but predictable in their hunger. I let her overreach, sidestepped, cut across her arm. The silver burned her flesh; black smoke hissed from the wound.
Precision +4%.
Maintain rhythm.
"System," I breathed, "keep the commentary on."
Still active.
Every motion kept thrumming with a pulse—tiny shocks of awareness like second-by-second coaching running under my skin. Strike angle improved. Momentum shift right. Dodge left—three degrees faster next time.
It wasn't language; it was sensation, thought and instinct fused. The System didn't show me words or symbols—it fed me information through feeling, impulses I could sense and understand without ever needing to read. Reading would have been suicide; a Slayer who stops to interpret ends up a corpse. So I let it flow through me, understanding by instinct alone.
The vampire lunged again. I pivoted low, sliced through her thigh. She screamed, caught me across the face with her claws anyway. Fire lanced down my cheek. I tasted iron.
Chloe darted in from behind, her dagger burying itself in the creature's back. "You're welcome!"
"Not yet!" I snapped.
The woman spun, her movement so fast it blurred. Chloe was flung aside, crashing against a wall with a grunt. Landon intercepted, sword flashing, forcing the vampire to retreat. For a heartbeat, all three of us stood squared against her, the last male hovering at her flank.
Then, as if summoned by scent, three more figures dropped from the rooftops.
Five total now. Perfect.
"Of course," Chloe muttered, wiping blood from her lip. "Because things weren't bad enough."
"They like odd numbers," I said grimly.
"Then let's make it even."
We formed a triangle automatically—Landon at the point, Chloe and I flanking. The vampires circled, eyes glowing, steam rising from their mouths though the night wasn't cold enough for it.
Then the square became chaos.
Claws, steel, motion.
I slashed, parried, kicked, moved. Landon's sword crashed like thunder, each strike a concussion. Chloe darted through shadows, her daggers flashing like sparks. The vampires attacked in pairs—one feinting, one striking. Their coordination was unnerving.
Defensive efficiency reduced.
Adapt pattern.
I shifted stance, drawing from the training that had been beaten into me for years. Weight on the balls of my feet, elbows tight, never give them a straight line. The System's pulses guided every motion, trimming waste. My body obeyed before I thought.
A vampire lunged—tall, male, eyes sunken. I caught his wrist, drove my elbow into his face, then sliced upward through his chest. The silver bit deep, carved through bone. He howled, staggered, swung wildly. I ducked low, kicked his leg out, and finished it—blade through heart.
He went up in fire, disintegrating before he hit the ground.
Two down.
Landon roared as claws raked his shoulder. Blood flashed scarlet against his armor. He didn't slow. His greatsword whirled, a gold arc in the dark, cleaving through another's torso. The creature split in half, burned, and was gone.
Ally performance: exceptional.
"Show-off!" I shouted.
He grinned through the sweat. "You love it."
Before I could retort, pain tore across my side—another vampire, fast and silent, had slashed from behind. My armor dulled the strike, but it still hurt. I twisted, grabbed its wrist, and drove my sword up beneath its chin.
Fire. Ash. Three down.
Chloe struggled with the fourth—smaller, female, darting and shrill. They moved like mirrored shadows, blades clashing in rapid rhythm. I sprinted to help, but the leader, the dark-haired woman, cut me off.
Behind her, I caught the flicker of motion—Chloe's dagger flashing once, twice, a third time. The shrill one dropped soundlessly, fire blooming under her skin as she fell apart into ash. Four down.
The leader was bleeding from three wounds now, smoke rising off her skin, but she smiled. "You fight well for cattle."
"Thanks," I said. "I practice."
Her eyes blazed red. "Then die proud."
She came at me with both hands—claws extended, speed impossible. I barely blocked the first strike; the second raked my shoulder. My sword clattered aside. Pain burned. I ducked under the next swing, rolled, retrieved the blade mid-motion.
Adrenal spike detected. Combat focus heightened.
I exhaled hard. The world slowed.
Every flicker of her movement became visible—the shift of weight, the twitch before attack. The System had tuned my senses so tight I could feel her next move before it came.
She lunged for my throat.
I sidestepped, turned her own momentum, and drove my blade clean through her heart.
Her eyes widened, red fading to dull gray. Then she laughed, soft and eerie. "You'll see us again," she whispered.
"I'll be waiting."
The fire took her. She burned from within, falling into cinders that drifted like dying snowflakes.
Five down.
The last vampire—one of the males—saw it, hissed, and leapt backward toward the edge of the square.
"Don't let him—!" Chloe started.
Landon was faster. He pulled a small metal ring from his belt—a half-circle of runic steel, humming faintly—and flung it. The ring snapped onto the vampire's wrist mid-air, completed its circle, and vanished.
"Tracker clasp," he said. "Got him."
The vampire snarled, then fled into the night, vaulting over rooftops, gone before we could follow.
We didn't chase.
The square was a ruin—blood on cobblestone, ash floating like gray snow. Smoke curled from the places where the dead had fallen. My lungs burned. My cheek stung. Every breath hurt.
Then the System pulsed again.
Combat complete.
Kill confirmations: 5.
Total XP yield: 257 points.
Fire-script blazed in the air, visible only to me. I knew Landon and Chloe were seeing it too—the System always spoke to every Slayer in their own language of light and thought—but I couldn't glimpse theirs any more than they could glimpse mine. What burned before me was mine alone.
Landon – 102 pts
Ava – 87 pts
Chloe – 68 pts
"Show-off," Chloe muttered, seeing Landon's smug look.
"Skill, not luck," he said.
"Yeah, yeah," I breathed, half laughing, half groaning.
The script shifted again, focusing on me.
Allocating 10 attribute points (2 each to Strength, Agility, Vitality, Intelligence, Wisdom). Remaining 77 added to Slayer Points.
Light rippled through me, a strange, electric warmth flooding my veins. I could feel the increase—not huge, but noticeable. Muscles lighter, vision clearer, mind steadier.
I whispered, "System, display."
Fireletters formed.
[ SYSTEM CODEX – AWAKENED ]
Name: Ava Monroe
Trade: Demon and Beast Slayer
Rank: Field Initiate
Level: 1
Gender: Female
Slayer Points: 112 (↑ from 35)
Health: 650 / 740
Stamina: 534 / 620
Mana: 510 / 510
Attributes
STRENGTH: 78
AGILITY: 90
VITALITY: 63
INTELLIGENCE: 51
WISDOM: 54
LUCK: 45
Achievements
• Seasoned in the Arts of Combat
• Trained in Communion with the System
• Scholar of Arcane and Mortal Knowledge
Equipment Access
Available Armor Sets: 3
Weapons within Armory: 10
Battle Memory Replay: Locked
Healing Elixirs Remaining: 57%
Arcane Storage Vault: 35% of 100% Capacity Used
Night Vision: Deactivated
Focus Zoom: Deactivated
Additional Functions: [Access via Thought or Gesture Command]
[ CODEX POWER DOWN ]
The script dimmed and vanished.
I stood there breathing hard, sword tip dragging across the stones. Chloe limped over, wiping soot from her cheek. Landon checked the unconscious drunk, who was snoring blissfully amid the carnage.
"Still alive," he said.
"Lucky bastard," Chloe muttered.