Lennix had no idea what emotion he was supposed to be feeling, other than an all-consuming, soul-deep discomfort. He obviously knew about the euphoria mortals felt from a vampire's bite, sure, but he'd been feeding from a woman who literally couldn't feel emotions for so long that he'd forgotten what an actual reaction looked like. And Velastra, an actual Demon Lord, was the last person he expected to respond like this.
*Do I just… keep going? I guess I do. But goddess, I really don't want to…* he thought, stiff as a board while Velastra clutched him tighter, nails scraping lightly across his back.
"Okay~ this has been the most fun I've had in ages~" Velastra breathed, voice melting into a moan—
—then Lennix felt a sharp, stabbing pain explode through his liver.
Her knee drove into him with surgical precision.
He jerked away from her on instinct, fangs ripping free of her neck as he doubled forward, hands clutching his side. A bitter burn spread through his insides as he snapped his gaze up at her. Velastra's expression was relaxed, almost cheerful, a satisfied little smile tugging at her lips.
"What? Were you affected or not? I don't get it…" Lennix muttered, confused and in pain.
Velastra chuckled, a small, amused sound, before brushing a thumb across her still-bleeding neck. "Oh, I was affected. I'm only human, after all. But I could've stepped out of it whenever I wanted."
She blurred forward before he could even blink.
A kick slammed into his left thigh. Another cracked against his chest. A third clipped his jaw and sent him flying backward, right back into one of her light barriers. They were suddenly in the same exact positions as when this whole nightmare started.
"It's like taking a drug without getting addicted," she added casually, adjusting her sunglasses with a shrug.
Lennix groaned, sliding down the barrier. The bone plating he'd been forming over his skin had lessened each blow, but every point of impact still throbbed with white-hot pain. "I drank so much blood from you! How are you still that strong!?" he demanded, voice cracking with a mix of frustration and fear.
"Oh no, I am weaker," Velastra replied lightly. "I can't heal myself, so I can't replenish the blood I lost. But a little lightheadedness isn't going to change much."
She started walking toward him, slow and unhurried.
Lennix scrambled mentally for a plan. Any plan. His mind was nothing but static and panic. He finally resorted to the only thing he could think to do:
*Carver! If you can still hear me—tell me what to do!* he pleaded internally.
*Sorry,* Darek's voice answered immediately, sounding a bit distracted. *Really busy trying to keep the black knight alive.*
Lennix stared at Velastra advancing on him.
And realized, with hollow dread, that he was absolutely screwed.
Then it hit him, *Wait. I just drank a whole lot of blood from a Demon Lord.*
His hand pressed against the light barrier, palm trembling, and in the next instant he pushed off with everything that newly stolen power could give him. Demon Lord blood surged through his veins, supercharging his undead muscles. The world blurred into streaks of color as he blasted past Velastra in a burst of speed far beyond what he had ever reached before.
Velastra blinked at the empty space he'd occupied, her brow twitching. "…For Michael's sake," she muttered, exasperated, and then in a flash she was after him.
Lennix tore across the plain faster then lightning, panic gnawing at what little focus he had. *What should I do? What should I do? Come on, Lennix, think! What can I even do in a situation like this!?*
The thought hit him mid-sprint.
*Maybe… maybe this is a mismatch. Maybe me and the black knight just need to switch opponents.*
It was all he had, the only idea that made sense.
He veered toward the village, pushing the Demon Lord's blood to its limits. Behind him he heard nothing, no footsteps, no breath, no taunt, which meant he was outpacing her. Actually outpacing Velastra. He could do it. He could reach the black knight first. He could see the village clearly now; the rooftops were rushing toward him; he was seconds away—
A sharp snap cracked through the air.
Velastra appeared in front of him mid-stride, materializing from light as if space itself opened a door for her.
Lennix had no time, no space, to react.
Her heel whipped across the side of his head with cataclysmic force. His skin tore. Bone cracked. His left eye ruptured instantly, vision exploding in white pain. Before gravity could even claim him, Velastra struck again, her foot smashing sideways into his left knee. The joint buckled inward like wet clay. Another kick slammed into his right shoulder, bones inside collapsing with a sickening, wet crunch.
Then she slid behind him in one smooth step.
"I think we've had enough fun," she said calmly—
—and her heel crashed into his spine.
The world flipped upside down. His body flew like a ragdoll, launched through the inn wall with explosive force. Wood splintered around him, tables and glasses shattered as he tore through them, momentum unbroken. He crashed out the far wall, then slammed chest-first into the stone well with a shattering impact.
The front of the well caved in.
So did his ribcage.
He landed on the ground in a limp heap, barely conscious. His remaining eye swam in and out of focus as he forced his head up. Everything hurt, everything felt broken. His left eye socket was empty, blood running in a cold stream down his face.
But even with one eye, he could see the scene in front of him:
The black knight was kneeling, right hand pressed tightly against his left side. Blood seeped between his fingers. The demon knight stood over him, longsword angled down, its tip still dripping with fresh red.
Footsteps approached behind Lennix—slow, unhurried, victorious.
Velastra's shadow fell over him.
"Looks like you lost," she said.