Alistair glanced down at the bleeding woman sprawled on the ground. Ren wasn't moving.
"Hey bro," he said casually, nodding toward her. "You asked my type earlier, right? Yeah. She's my type."
Rowan shot him a look sharp enough to cut steel. "I swear, this is not the time for your random thoughts. This is actually serious."
"Can you both shut it for one second?" Ophelia snapped. "She seems like a decent person, and she's literally on the edge right now. If I don't heal her, she's done."
Alaric stood a short distance away, unmoving. Silent. Watching them like this was all mildly entertaining.
Rowan lowered his voice. "Ophelia, you heal her. Me and Alistair will try to hold him off."
"Yeah, I'm in," Alistair said, pulling out a knife.
Rowan blinked. "Wait. You had a knife this whole time?"
"For safety," Alistair replied. "You know. Before entering that school's secret basement."
Ophelia didn't look up. Somewhere deep in her mind, she thanked every god she didn't believe in.
Alaric's patience snapped.
"ARE YOU DONE YAPPING YET?" he roared.
Rowan and Alistair inhaled sharply.
"Just stall him," Ophelia said quickly, breath tight. "One minute. That's all I need."
Rowan didn't answer.
He sprinted forward.
He jumped.
His fist drew back, every muscle tensing as he sucked in a breath and swung with everything he had.
The punch landed.
Alaric didn't move.
Not an inch.
Not even a tremor.
Rowan's stomach dropped.
"Humans," Alaric said calmly, almost bored, "can never defeat a vampire. Especially not me." His lips curled slightly. "Now let me show you what a punch looks like."
Rowan barely had time to react.
A blur.
Impact.
The world flipped.
The next thing Rowan knew, he was in the air.
His body slammed into a dumpster with a sickening crash. His vision went white. Blood spilled from his nose as he collapsed, limp.
Alistair stepped forward at once.
He didn't speak.
He positioned himself between Ophelia and Alaric, knife held low but steady, knuckles white.
Ophelia dropped to her knees beside the wounded woman. A faint glow bloomed from her palms as she pressed them against the torn flesh, forcing herself to breathe evenly.
"Stay with me," she whispered. "Just stay."
Alaric watched them in silence, head slightly tilted, like he was curious how this would end.
A weak, broken sound slipped from the woman's lips.
"…Don't…"
Ophelia froze. "You're awake?"
The woman's eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused. Blood stained the corner of her mouth.
"…He's too strong," she murmured. "You shouldn't be here."
Ophelia swallowed. "Who is he?"
The woman coughed, her body trembling. "Fire Village."
The glow around Ophelia's hands faltered.
"…A commander," the woman added, voice barely holding together.
The air seemed to tighten.
Alistair's grip on the knife hardened, but he still didn't move.
Alaric smiled.
Alistair noticed that Ophelia was now trembling.
"I won't let you heal her."
Alaric's voice tore through the alley.
His power surged again. Dark strands shot outward, snapping through the air and wrapping around Ophelia and the injured woman in a single violent motion. They were yanked upward, suspended helplessly as the pressure tightened.
Alistair moved without thinking.
He rushed in, slashing at the bindings with the knife, but the moment the blade touched them, the strands twisted and snapped back. In an instant, he was caught too, lifted off the ground, his grip on the knife slipping as the force overwhelmed him.
The three of them hung there, trapped.
Ophelia strained forward anyway, reaching for the woman beneath the restraints. Her hands trembled, glowing faintly as she tried to hold her power together, refusing to stop even now.
Nearby, something shifted.
Alistair glanced toward the dumpster.
Rowan was there.
Still unsteady. Still dazed. But standing.
Alistair met his eyes and gave the smallest nod. Then, deliberately, he loosened his fingers.
The knife fell.
Alaric's smile widened. "There's no escape for you now."
Alistair exhaled. "Hey, giant. Quick question."
Alaric's gaze flicked to him.
"What hair conditioner do you use?" Alistair said. "Because that control is insane."
Silence.
"I'm serious," Alistair went on, forcing a grin. "You ever hear the phrase 'don't look back'? Terrible advice. Sometimes you really should."
Alaric's brow creased.
He followed the thought.
The knife wasn't on the ground.
And the boy he had thrown aside—
His head turned.
Pain exploded across his back.
Rowan stood there, breathing hard, both hands on the knife as he drove it in. Not deep enough. Not fatal. But enough.
The bindings slackened.
Alistair, Ophelia, and the woman dropped to the ground. Ophelia scrambled immediately, steadying the wounded body as her power surged properly this time.
Alaric staggered, snarling. He twisted, fury blazing, and struck.
Alistair moved without hesitation.
The blow hit him instead.
He was thrown back, hitting the ground hard. Rowan rushed to him, panic flashing across his face.
Alaric wrenched the knife free. The wound closed quickly, irritation replacing pain.
Ophelia was already there, kneeling, hands pressed to both boys, her focus split but unbroken.
Behind them, the woman stood.
Her strength had returned.
She moved fast.
Alaric didn't notice until it was too late.
A sharp line crossed him, cutting cleanly across his body. Not deep enough to kill. Deep enough to matter.
This time, the wound didn't close.
Alaric hissed, rage boiling over. His power surged again, snapping around her, lifting her off her feet.
"What was your name again?" he growled. "Ren."
The pressure tightened.
"I should have ended this earlier."
Ren struggled, her strength fading as the world narrowed.
Ophelia looked up, fear cutting through her focus.
She couldn't reach her.
Ren's vision dimmed.
And then—
"It seems I arrived at an… interesting moment."
The voice was calm. Too calm.
The alley felt heavier all at once, as if the air itself had been pressed downward.
Alaric stiffened.
He turned slowly.
The man stood a short distance away, posture relaxed, hands at his sides. He looked like a noble who had wandered off the main road by mistake.
But the moment Ren saw him, her breath stopped.
Ophelia's eyes widened in pure disbelief.
"…No," Ophelia whispered. "It can't be."
Alaric's control shattered.
His grip loosened instantly as he staggered back, then dropped to one knee, head bowed so low it almost touched the ground.
"T—the Prince…" his voice shook. "The Prince of Vampires…"
Rowan felt it then.
Not recognition.
Pressure.
Something ancient, something that didn't belong in a place like this. His instincts screamed, even if his mind didn't understand why.
The man sighed, faintly amused.
"I suppose introductions are unavoidable," he said. "Though I didn't expect to find a Commander of the Village of Fire so far from his assigned ground."
"I—I'm sorry, mas—"
Alaric never finished.
There was no warning. No buildup.
One moment he was kneeling.
The next, he collapsed forward, lifeless, his presence erased as if it had never mattered.
Silence swallowed the alley.
Ren swallowed hard. "So this…" she muttered, voice barely steady, "is the power of high rank vampire, especially a prince."
The man glanced down at his hand.
Blood clung to his fingers, dark and warm. He frowned slightly, as if noticing dust on a sleeve. With his other hand, he adjusted his glasses, the motion unhurried, almost polite.
Then he stepped forward.
Ophelia froze. Ren's muscles tensed, every instinct screaming at her to move, to strike, to run. None of them did.
The gentleman stopped in front of Rowan.
Rowan didn't know why his chest felt tight. He didn't know why the air itself felt heavier now. He only knew one thing.
This man hadn't come for them.
The gentleman extended his bloodstained hand, palm open, as if offering a greeting.
His smile was warm. Genuine. Almost kind.
"Pardon the state of my hands," he said lightly. "That was… unavoidable."
His eyes settled on Rowan.
"I came here for you," he continued, voice calm, almost friendly. "It would be rude not to say hello properly."
He tilted his head, smile widening just a fraction.
"My name is Van Albercht," he said.
"It's very nice to meet you... again."