"What...the hell...?"

Ancaeus, the heavily armoured dwarf, muttered as he stared at the sight barely visible far ahead of him. Though it was difficult to see through the massive army of monsters and all the giant trees blocking the way, he was able to spot several trees simply topple over for no apparent reason, following a large amount of strange sounds and rumbling.

It wasn't difficult to connect many of those events and realize that the monster army had made contact with the enemy.

That in itself wasn't a bad thing, as everyone had grown tired from so many long days of marching through this difficult terrain, stopping only to rest for the night. And every time they stopped, they had to feed the monsters something, which generally came to be parts of their own monster army. So engaging the enemy a little sooner meant that their numbers wouldn't have been as depleted.

But even still, what shocked the dwarf was the realization that a large number of trees were just cut down in an instant.

The only explanation was that it was a result of some attack. And while knocking down some trees couldn't be considered an impressive feat, even for trees as large as the ones that surrounded the dwarf, the sheer number and the speed that had been knocked down that he instinctively extrapolated from the evidence he had suggested an attack far beyond what he was used to dealing with.

"Is this...we're under attack?"

Nearby, a stupefied voice rang out. Ancaeus didn't know his name, but he was the bishop that came as representative of the church. Obviously, the pope didn't come, as it was pointless to bring the head of one of the most important organizations in the world to the front lines of a battle. Especially when he was someone with a low level and virtually no combat experience.

That said, the dwarf didn't even have to look to know that the man was quaking in his boots, quite literally. Even he was feeling quite frightened by such a display of raw power.

"Dammit! Did that fat vampire find us already?"

On the other hand, Idmon recovered almost immediately from the shock. With a bit of a boost from one of her familiar spirits, the elf leapt up onto a low branch. Low, comparatively speaking, though due to the sheer size of the trees in this part of the forest, it was still well out of reach for a normal person.

With her improved vantage point, the spiritualist was able to get a better view of what was going on. But what she saw, only made her bloodshot eyes open even wider.

Even through the huge throng of monsters and trees, the elf could clearly see gaps in the virtually endless stream of monsters. Those gaps were growing, made even clearer by all the body parts and splatters of blood that flew up into the air.

It was impossible to see what was causing all the carnage, but in her mind, there could only be one person.

"It's gotta be that fat bitch! She's in the middle of the monsters! Have them attack her!"

Some of the elves controlling the monsters responded with an affirmation, though none of them needed her to tell them what to do. They had already noticed something was killing the monsters they were controlling, and some had already sent out the attack command.

Though that did little to stop them from cursing. While they had come fully expecting to lose all the monsters they had brought with them, the rate at which they were losing monsters was significantly higher than any estimate they had.

It was clear to those controlling the monsters, that their target had grown stronger.

Much stronger.

Low murmurs could be heard here and there, worries that this plan wasn't going to work. While this plan formulated by the elvish nation of Arcadia was quite radical and unique, it wasn't like they hadn't made predictions as to how the battle would go. And that included things like the rate of losses, taking into consideration the possibility of significant interference by those outside of the primary target.

However, even the worst case scenario they had been briefed on didn't have the monster army they painstakingly built and transported over the last few months be cut down so quickly. And that took into consideration a combined attack between the target and a supporting army. As things stood, all the losses seemed to come from only the target, and even then they weren't even sure if the one doing it was the one they suspected.

There hadn't been any visual confirmation, only that something was slaughtering the monsters they brought at an alarming rate.

It wouldn't take long before they ran out of fodder, and the knights and warriors would have to fight.

And if the target wasn't weakened enough by the time it came to it, the massive price Arcadia had paid, the Alliance of Light had paid, would be crippling for the next war. For when the new Demon Lord went on the offensive.

This had to work. No new hero had been found, as the wars usually didn't flare up like this so quickly in succession. They should have had generations to rebuild and prepare, yet not even a single one had passed this time.

Only once in the past had such a thing happened, and that time the previous hero managed to defeat the second Demon Lord.

This time, he had failed.

So they had grown desperate.

A vampire was a creature that could endlessly grow stronger. They outlived even the long lived elves, but their strength could grow far faster than any other race. It was for this reason that vampire Demon Lords were feared even more than the Dragonkin ones. Not only were they powerful individually, but they could continue to build up their strength for eternity. Any campaign against a vampire Demon Lord had to win. Because if it didn't, it was believed that they would become ground down by the vampire's endless blood thirst.

A dragonkin, or any other Demon Lord would age and die. A vampire Demon Lord grows only stronger over time.

It was believed then, that the holy sword Harpe was gifted from god especially for that reason. The one weapon a vampire couldn't fight. No matter how strong they grew.

So if every attempt to defeat a vampire Demon Lord failed, it would serve as one final, unending ray of hope.

But everyone there knew, if they failed here, all the nations would suffer grievously. They couldn't afford to fail.

"Argh! That fat bitch has a weapon now! It looks like a scythe!"

In a small gap of movement, Idmon was able to get a good look on the one who was slaughtering their army.

"Odd choice of weapon." Ancaeus couldn't help but comment on the elf's words. As someone who used melee weapons, he couldn't see the point of a weapon like a scythe. It was a scary looking weapon, but mostly just that. On a battlefield, it was little more than better than nothing. Scythes were heavy and awkward to use.

At most a weapon for conscripts, though only against the weakest of foes. Any decently levelled or equipped foe would easily beat someone who wielded a scythe.

At least, under normal conditions.

"Huh? Is she..." The spiritualist rubbed her bloodshot eyes before concentrating on the battle again. "She...she's not fat anymore?"

"What, like she went on a diet or something?"

"Not possible. Vampires are unable to change their appearance after forming." The nearby bishop firmly refuted Hylas's words. The others could hardly counter him. Information about vampires weren't widely spread due to their rarity as well as how similar they appeared to a normal elf. It was better to only give detailed information to those who needed to know, rather than spread anything but what would normally be passed down through typical stories.

Their appearances for one, wasn't spread through the populace in order for prevent people from accusing innocent elves as being a vampire. As their method of propagation or other details that would scare the layman too much.

Of course, those who came to this battle were informed of much of this information. The bishop that was appointed to this expedition was by far one of the most studied on the subject though. Hense, he was the one chosen to participate, regardless of his personal wishes.

"That bitch was definitely fat last time though!"

"I thought she looked more like she was pregnant though?"

"That's impossible! Vampires can't breed like a normal living being!" The bishop completely refused to acknowledge Hylas's casual thought. There wasn't even a hint of it in his voice, so sure he seemed of this.

"Wasn't there that rumour a few years back about a bunch of women who were raped and bore the babies of some vampire?"

"And you believe such an outrageous story?!" The man was practically frothing at the mouth at such a thought.

"Of course not. It sounded impossible. I figured it must've been something else. It did seem like there really was a vampire, but there were also others that people said were elvish children."

"I hate to think that one of my kind turned traitor and teamed up with a vampire, but it's hard to refute the evidence, even if they never found an adult elf there." Idmon scowled at the thought provoked from Hylas's words, even while keeping her eyes on the battlefield.

"By the way, Sir Ancaeus. Are you ready? The monster army is likely to collapse far sooner than expected."

"Yea, I'm ready." The dwarf looked at the sword container he held by its carrying cord as he answered the bishop.

Strictly speaking, he wasn't, as he hadn't even pulled the weapon from its carrying case. But even then, he was confident that he would able to arm himself fast enough when it was decided he would have to step in.

But until then, he had no desire to bring himself any closer to the weapon than he already had. A weapon which sapped the mana from anything it touched like some greedy endless void. It was bad enough for a martial specialist like himself, even through the protective layers that made up its grip, but most of the people here were magic oriented. Being in close proximity to the weapon was enough to unnerve them.

But the dwarf's greatest concern wasn't the weapon, but whether it would be enough to slay this vampire. Not only had she grown stronger by leaps and bounds, but she was also aware of their trump card. A secret weapon only worked because the enemy wasn't aware of its existence.

He seriously hoped that, against the growing feeling in his chest, they hadn't made a massive mistake.

 

On the other side of the battle, a group of kids were watching the battle unfold from behind the front lines.

"Amazing. She's really taking them all on by herself?" Cassius murmured out loud.

"It's not by herself. Everyone's here to fight to protect what's important, including us!" The leader of the dhampire group called back.

"Yea, I know, but...doesn't it look like the monsters are ignoring us? Look, the ones behind the front row are trying to go where she is." But despite Iaso's words, the boy wasn't deterred.

She didn't want to admit it, but the truth was blatantly staring at them. Just by plunging into the enemy lines, Elder Scarlet had single-handedly drawn the attention of all the enemies. The only kills that anyone else was getting was just easy long range shots against the front row that refused to charge in despite being monsters. They couldn't even defend from the attacks properly and were being one-sidedly slaughtered at no risk to the dragonkin, to Chieftain Harja's obvious and vocal irritation.

"Mom always talked about how strong and kind Elder Scarlet was, but seeing really is believing." Aceso said.

"Considering how strong she is, it's hard to believe that she doesn't ever show it." Machaon added while flicking one of his round ears on top of his head.

"Not at all like those bad people from that village." Livia added. Most of the dhampires within earshot nodded as well, remembering how they and their mothers were treated in the village they spent their first years at.

Even more facts that the young girl couldn't refute.

Back in Parietina Village, where most of them were born and they had all grown up, was not a pleasant place for this group of children, nor their mothers. Originally, the village had been nothing but a ghost town, having all of its inhabitants kidnapped or killed. Though many of the pregnant women who came to live there had been the original occupants, they only amounted to a small fraction of the original population. Even adding the newly freed women to their numbers, they couldn't even occupy even a third of the houses that stood there. Of course, needing to rely on each other due to their weakened state, they lived in larger groups, using only a fraction of the houses allotted to them. Effectively giving up control over the unoccupied buildings that ended up being taken advantage of by others.

The vast majority of the village's population, once the local lord set upon resettling the village, were outsiders, unified in the idea of reestablishing a foothold at the edge of civilization. A vastly different mentality to those who just wanted to put their lives back together.

Made even worse, was that due to their circumstances, all of these newly freed women were either pregnant or recently haven given birth. Such people could not be an effective work force for some time, and was little more than a burden on a newly reestablished settlement.

Though no fault of their own, the first impressions these women gave to the new immigrants were amongst the worst, causing them to be isolated from the rest of the community. This isolation hadn't done any favours to improve the situation over time either. And as their children grew old enough to become aware of their surroundings, they came to take this status as outcasts as normal.

To identify with it, and even place value with it.

An identity, that didn't go away when their mothers collectively decided to escape from their impoverished situation and find a new life.

And of course, when their mothers did find that escape and settle down where they were all accepted, these children weren't able to recognize this change. This denial of the image that had been ingrained into them by those in power where they had spent their earliest years.

Of course, by those in power, effectively meant everyone. Those of the in-group were able to leverage their social position no matter how low their personal position was. The outcast children were even lower than the other children, though the ones they suffered from the most were those with real authority. The village's guards, and especially those in leadership positions.

While their mothers had quickly accepted their new positions upon arriving at the Hourai Commonwealth, their children were unable to reconcile with the changes so well. By losing their position as outcasts and becoming protected members of society, they also lost their unmitigated freedom. A trade off they had trouble accepting, having not known any other way.

And the frustration of this trade off being forced upon them, they placed on the laps of those they habitually saw as the source of their misery: those in positions of authority.

Though, over time the edge had been worn away and they were able to accept that these authority figures had their best interests in mind, that only applied to those they could witness acting in such a way.

The issue, was the authority figure that they usually couldn't see directly when she acted. For these sorts of children, the words and assurances of others wasn't nearly enough to convince them of a person's nature. Especially when they felt that those they cared most for, their mothers, were being manipulated by that authority figure.

Not like they had any evidence for it.

But being told all their lives about someone they've never seen before, those children tended to either become fanatical worshippers, or their greatest skeptics. The latter, in the case of these specific children.

And it was hardly a surprise. The ones they cared about the most pooling so much attention towards someone they have never met before, who had done nothing for them. Though they admitted that it was admirable that she had saved their mothers' lives, having left them to fend for themselves afterwards though, to them, showed how much she actually cared.

"None of the adults would say so, but wasn't she the one who made those chances to school so we could do what we wanted more?"

"Technically, she owns the school. Anything big chances, she probably ordered it." Machaon, the bearkin dhampire boy responded to his half-human friend, Podalirius.

"It kinda feels like she really cares about us." Aceso added.

"That doesn't...!" Iaso started before catching herself. She didn't want to yell at her friends who were almost as close as family to her. Second only to her own mother. After all, she knew they were right. She was the one who was being stubborn.

"Maybe it's time to let it go, Iaso. We all know you only suggested we come to see the truth for ourselves. There's no way us being here would have much impact in this fight. And Elder Scarlet is strong. Really strong. But she didn't have to take on all the monsters on her own, yet she did." Podalirius looked the girl in the eye.

"You're our big sis, to all of us. But...that doesn't mean you have to take care of everything by yourself." Aceso put a hand on the older girl's back.

"It's not like back in the village. There's no bad adults you need to stand up against here." Machaon added.

"I...I..." Tears welled up in Iaso's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She turned from her closest friends and looked out at the battle in the distance once again.

But slowly, after a few silent moments, she lowered her body and hugged her knees.

"Maybe..." she sniffled. "Maybe...you're right."

The other children huddled around Iaso, those closest hugging her small body. But she kept her eyes open, watching the battle. Searing the image of their elder fighting for their sake. Eyes moistened, yet not allowing even a drop to fall even as she continued to sniffle.

 

In between the dhampire children and the monster army, stood one woman who impatiently tapped her foot.

The dragonkin chieftain glared at the wall of monsters as they slowly retreated, both from the losses they were taking from the dragonkin warriors that fired potshots at them, and the gaping holes made within their central mass by the vampire elder.

But despite all the complaining, the chieftain refused to allow her warriors to charge into the enemy lines.

Because she made a promise. A promise to protect those behind her. And she wasn't about to let her hotheadedness get in the way of keeping that promise.

Even still...

"Dammit, stop taking all the fun."

It didn't make things any less frustrating for the woman.