Blood Legacy: New World Of Doom-Novel

"Ladies first." Ikaris said with a falsely gallant flourish once the entrance to the burrow was exposed.

Malia glared at him, but finally went in first with a snort. The boy followed in her wake with his sword in hand.

With no daylight, Ikaris felt the density and number of Dark particles soar around him. Since the sunrise, he had continued to passively absorb this dark elemental energy whenever he had the chance. He didn't know what to do with it, but he knew it would come in handy soon enough.

The darkness of this underground gallery should have made them anxious, but both his Crawling and Nephilim bloodlines granted him the gift of night vision. As for Malia, as a Vampire, seeing in the dark had never been a problem either.

Conversely, it was sunlight that she found inconvenient. She didn't say much about it, but according to Magnus, being half Kitsune wasn't enough to make up for it.

If she stood in the sun for longer than 15 to 20 minutes, she would get sunburned, no matter how tanned she was. Fortunately, thanks to her high Constitution and Vitality, she was also recovering very quickly.

Ikaris had been thinking about all the times he had seen her basking in the sun and he had indeed come to the realization that each of these occurrences were extremely brief. She was comfortable in the forest, thanks in part to the thick canopy, or when the weather was cloudy. She was eager to show herself at dawn or dusk, but when the sky was clear and the sun was high, she stayed in her tent almost all the time.

In the Forsaken Lands, Cursed Races like Vampires or Werevolves saw the symptoms of their Curse worsen with the purity of their lineage. A Vampire Progenitor had immense power from birth, but his bloodlust and vulnerability to the sun was also unmatched.

That's why Magnus had such high hopes for him. His Soul Strength was a chance for him to push his Bloodlines much further than any Sorcerer before him. Likewise, it was also why Malia could stand the sun to some extent. A pure Vampire, even a mere Thrall would have burned after a few minutes.

The duo tiptoed in silence, hearing only their own breath. Because they were both using a Stealth ability, they regularly tended to forget that they were not alone. It was only when their shoulders accidentally brushed or bumped into each other that they remembered.

This underground gallery was not straight as they had anticipated, but tortuous, winding slightly from right to left and up and down and sometimes even branching off into other paths. With Danchun's guidance, however, they had no trouble finding their way.

A few minutes later, the tunnel widened and the faint glimmer of a torch shone at the end of the path, dazzling them like a lighthouse in the dark night. They had found the lycans' lair.

When they were about to emerge from the tunnel, two lycans in human form made their way towards them, chatting unsuspectingly. Alarmed, Ikaris and Malia shared a glance, but by unspoken agreement they backed away, retreating into the darkness to the nearest bend.

Lycans had good eyesight in the dark, but nothing as sharp as a Vampire or a Crawling. Especially in their human form. After Ikaris and Malia hid, they didn't suspect anything, not even noticing the suspicious footprints on the ground.

"Aye... I'm so jealous of that envoy. I'd give anything to taste one of those female prisoners." One of the lycans chuckled lecherously. "Remember that big-breasted elf we captured last month? This fucking emissary ate her alive while raping her. How fucking sick is that? Damn it... At least let us have some fun first if you're gonna kill her anyway..."

"Yeah... But our boss won't let us because we're not animals..." His comrade grumbled resentfully. " Hypocritical prick, yep! In the end, he bends over backwards to the envoy and gives in to all his fucking demands..."

The two men having no idea of what awaited them continued to discuss happily without knowing that what they had just said had sealed their fate. Malia's crimson eyes were aglow with rage, while Ikaris had shed his last misgivings about accidentally killing innocent people.

These two lycans had to die.

The two men waded down the gallery until it began to curve to the right. As they turned the corner, Ikaris and Malia pounced on them.

Malia decapitated her target before he could open his mouth to scream for help, while the teenager impaled the other lycan by thrusting his blade deep into his throat. He activated his Enhanced Strength Spell and in one swift motion slashed sideways to free his sword. The head, now only attached to a flap of flesh, tilted backwards and under the influence of gravity detached itself from what remained of its neck.

The young woman drooled at the smell of all that blood and breathing in the air Ikaris ordered quickly,

"Let's bury them."

If the stench ended up alerting the other werewolves they would have the entire enemy village on their heels at any moment. Malia understood what was at stake and hurried to cover the spilled blood with dirt while the boy took care of the bodies.

A moment later they reappeared at the exit of the gallery. No lycans walking in their direction this time.

Unaware of how acute the hearing of Werewolves and other lycanthropes was, Ikaris silently mouthed,

"We're just observing."

Malia pouted, but nodded reluctantly.

It turned out that these lycans were far too relaxed. They seemed to believe that their lair would never be attacked because they were mostly sleeping, feasting or fornicating. The stink of sweat, rotten meat, semen and wet dog near some of the tents and huts was sickening and let alone Malia, even Ikaris gagged several times.

Their base was more advanced than Last Saint or Karragin, but at the same time it wasn't very complicated. Most of them lived in large, wooden-framed lodges, more akin to Mongolian yurts than the primitive tents of the Barren Bush. In addition to this, there were also a few thatched cottages and wooden buildings, but the architecture was crude and lacking in elegance.

There was also clearly a problem with the sanitary aspect. They found no toilet or sewage system in this underground shelter and many of the lycans seemed to be indulging in the filth.

Not being able to get too close for fear of being spotted, they caught a glimpse of a much larger and better decorated yurt in the center of the village. The only place that seemed more or less sanitary.

The residence of the chief and probably also of the emissary that the two lycans they had just killed had mentioned, they concluded mentally. The lycan guards posted nearby were also sharper and well-fed.

After getting an overview of the village and meticulously counting the number of yurts and huts, they began to explore its outskirts. They found a warehouse storing dried meat and at a glance Ikaris determined that this village was going through a tough time.

Their food supply was just enough to get a dozen lycans through the winter, but this den had at least ten times that number. Ikaris immediately began to formulate a plan when he saw this.

They continued around the village and soon they saw all the cages lined up, reminiscent of a gigantic kennel. Ikaris' pupils narrowed as he recognized Ling and the other Last Saint ladies in the cages.

Upon seeing them, Malia saw red and wanted to rush to free them, but the teenager's firm grip on the back of her dress held her in place. When he got her attention he shot her a stone cold look and uttered without a sound,

"Not now. They don't have a Stealth Spell."

The Vampire-Kitsune winced, in the grip of an intense dilemma, but eventually calmed down. It was only after she promised not to do it again that Ikaris let go of her dress.

Indeed, even if they only released one or two of them and carried them on their shoulders the lycans would sniff out their release immediately.

The captured men, in contrast, were nowhere in sight. They also found no sign of Kellam and Marvin.

Yet, as they approached the cages where the women were imprisoned, a certain prisoner looked straight at them. Plume Treeglow.

The young Fae's neon green eyes widened in amazement at the sight of them, and Ikaris wondered how she had discovered their presence. Magnus gave him a tentative answer.

"She's a Fae. They can't lie and no falsehood can deceive their sense. Now that she has seen you you must either release her or silence her somehow."

'A Fae?" Ikaris repeated as he realized that it had to be the one who helped Danchun escape.

Suddenly, a melodious female voice echoed in his mind.

"Help me escape and I will be in your debt."

Unable to use telepathy, he communicated as he did with Malia and mouthed distinctly,

"I can't free you in front of the other prisoners. One of them will speak."

As if to prove him wrong, Feather grabbed a handful of shiny sand from one of her pockets and cupping her hands before her lips she blew in all directions. The powdery wind was inhaled by all the other unsuspecting prisoners, including the old lycan guard, and they all dropped like flies, soft snoring replacing their anxious gasps.

"Now you can." Plume smiled as she winked at him.