429 Beheadings
Quinn shot toward the three Elder Vampires with magic enhancing his speed and senses. The Vampires, seemingly stunned by the velocity coming from a human, controlled the blood with hemomancy— red liquid flowed out of their containers, and the moment of his sprint towards them, the blood spread into tarps that, even though they appeared flimsy, were nothing but.
Quinn raised his arms, and the daggers glowed in blood red. He was going to rip through the covers of blood and cut down the three Vampires along with it. However, the blood tarp suddenly rippled, and the long spikes of blood emerged from the surface— his momentum carried him forwards as the spikes grew towards him— they were in front of him before he could even blink.
He cursed, casting magic for a blue glow to envelop him, cutting his momentum and speed, rendering him stationary, But the spikes still grew towards him. Quinn breathed out, letting the tug in his navel whisk him away— the next moment, his feet hit the ground where he had started, paces away from the Vampires. Quinn clicked his tongue. . . apparition during fights was never reliable, with a tremendous risk of splinching.
“That didn’t do it,” he heard the boy Vampire— who was undoubtedly multiple tens of times his age.
Quinn slackened his grip on his daggers, and with wind magic propelling the blades, he thrust them forward towards the blood tarps. As if shot by a crossbow, the daggers pierced through the blood tarps, and he heard two distinct screams. Grinning, he called the daggers back, and they flew from behind the crumbling blood tarp, but not without an initial jerk— which told him they were adequately embedded before he pulled them out.
The two daggers stopped in mid-air. Quinn pulled on them but felt an opposing force resisting him. He glanced behind the blood that was now floating in clumps. The boy and the older woman had been hit— the boy was holding his side while the older woman had her gloved hand on her shoulder. The younger woman, untouched, however, was looking at him; she thinned her eyes, and the deadlock between the two pulls began to tilt with the daggers moving away from Quinn.
‘As expected of an Elder Vampire, she can exert more control over my blood than me.’ Quinn thought as he tried to pull back the daggers, but it was akin to fighting a losing battle as his pull was substantially weaker. He switched gears immediately. He stopped pulling and let the daggers fly towards his opponent— instead, he sent small bullets after the daggers that exploded on contact and abruptly increased the speed of the daggers.
‘Greater control doesn’t mean total control,’ Quinn reached out to his blood infused in the conjured dagger, and the red veins flashed brightly and dangerously. Then. . . Boom! The daggers glowed a deep yellowish-red before the silver and blood exploded around the Elder Vampires.
He grinned and conjured silver flowed before his palms, forming a new set of daggers. But as he was about to infuse blood, he noticed that as the dust settled— no blood was floating in the air or splashed across the ground.
When the dust settled, three dark red cacoons stood in place of where the Vampires were. The intense irony stench of blood lingered in the air as the blood swirled menacingly on the surface, forming currents and waves that looked like an ocean and its movements when seen as a whole.
‘This doesn’t look good.’ Quinn readied his blood-infused dagger, putting in a little more blood this time to have a firmer control over them. He eyed the cacoons— should he attack now or wait and watch to see what happens?
‘Attack. . .’ Quinn stepped forth and had only taken a step when the blood cacoons split open to reveal three Elder Vampires with red veins coursing and beating all over their faces— veins extended throughout their bodies covered by their clothes.
The cacoon blood changed forms and assembled themselves into shapes that worried Quinn. The blood around the body formed into a large bloody figure of a knight standing beside him wearing full body armor, a heater shield, and a long sword— the young woman had a dozen dane-axes floating near her back— the older woman had a cloud of needles so large that it formed an almost solid block over her head.
‘Blood constructs.’ Quinn took a step back and observed the three Elder Vampires and their constructs with a cautious eye. The observation didn’t last long as the knight blood construct drew his sword and charged forward, brandishing it over the heater shield.
Quinn glanced at the daggers in his hands and then at the heater shield and longsword. He couldn’t see it working. He clicked his tongue and charged toward the knight. The blood construct and Quinn came into striking distance with each other— the longsword allowed the knight to act first, and he took the initiative to swing the blood blade. Quinn conjured a shield to block the sword— but upon contact, the sword turned liquid, and the blood rushed across the surface towards the edges of the shied. Quinn realized what was happening— the blood would flow behind the shield before reforming into the blade to cut him down.
Quinn’s arms glowed with blood magic as he pushed against the knight— and unlike the pull against the Elder Vampire, Quinn backed the push with his enormous reserves, ignoring the burning sensation in his arms. His reserves were big enough that he could easily overpower his blood magic, but not without consequences— the blood inside would react abnormally if he went over a limit, and he could only put so much blood outside his body without it adversely affecting him. He used the blood inside him as a catalyst and disturbed the connection between the knight and the Elder Vampire.
The knight’s large rippled as the well-defined armor turned into a jelly mush. Quinn disabled his shield, let one of his daggers fall for a second, and thrusts a corrosive explosive into the knight’s body with his empty palm. He summoned the falling dagger and continued toward the Elder Vampires without stopping for a second
Gurgle— Splash! The explosive spell detonated, and the knight went splash. Even without looking back, Quinn knew it would take a moment or two before the knight reformed itself and returned to attempt his slaughter.
‘Need to finish this quick.’ Quinn changed the grips on his daggers before throwing them, one at the boy and the other at the younger woman. That was it: he could only spare a little more without it weakening him, and he needed that for later.
Two of the axes jolted into action and shot towards the daggers. Quinn exploded the daggers, disrupted the two axes, and made a large dust cloud.
The older woman flicked her wrist and sent a hundred long needles toward Quinn. “Please die quickly,” she said, narrowing her eyes to look beyond the dust. “I don’t want to damage your body—” She looked down and saw a glowing red sword sticking into her chest with a chain attached to the end of its hilt. She looked to the side and saw swords sticking out of the other two Elder Vampires as well.
“What is this?” She yelped when the chain became taut and yanked her forward. She put her hand on the sword to pull it out, a frown surfaced between her brows, but then she froze. “Bloo—”
She couldn’t complete the sentence as her head was decapitated, clean off her body, by a wind blade. It rolled on the floor along with the two other heads.
The dust settled, and Quinn stepped forward with a transparent shield with needles sticking out of it like acupuncture in front of one hand and three Empyrean chains clenched in the other with blood magic veins traveling up his arm. Empyrean could take on any property— magical or physical— blood magic was no exception.
The needles on the shield turned liquid, and Quinn dropped the shield. “As expected, I am no match for Elder Vampires when it comes to blood magic,” Quinn commented when he saw the three Vampires’ eyes on the decapitated heads move to look at him. They were still alive where a normal Vampire would have already been dead — such was the power of Elder Vampires and their control on blood magic that could keep them alive even after being decapitated.
He could only stun them for a moment by using blood magic in the Emperyean chains and use that moment to decapitate them using blades spelled using blood magic.
“H-How?” asked the older woman.
Quinn shrugged. “Vampires are recorded to be one of the most ferocious species out there, and Elder Vampire are said to be capable of ripping through people faster than meat shredders. I have a theory behind it. . . Vampires have a dulled sense of pain, and that’s why I think they don’t care for defense much, focusing much on offense— I mean look at you three— except the bulky armor knight, none of you went for blood constructs that could be used for defense.”
Elder Vampires could form blood into any way they preferred, but usually tend to stick to a default form they were comfortable with. He looked to the boy, “Even you, I think only prefer the knight construct because of something in your past. . . maybe because you were turned so young. . . it must’ve been tough to be plunged into a strange world so young.” The boy growled making Quinn grin behind his mask. “It seems I was right,” he said. “That internal trauma must’ve been stuck with you even when you were a mighty Elder Vampire. . . inner demons can be tough.
“I just had to make sure to end it quickly and get in a good solid strike to defeat you,” Quinn shook his head. The knight had taken an uncomfortable magic, the axes had taken him his blood, while the shield that blocked the needles had drank his magic like nothing.
“You were tough opponents, my body is hot right now— it feels like a bad fever.” He was working on calming that heat down.
“The Dark Lord is going to avenge us,” said the younger woman.
“Not if I kill him first,” Quinn said. “Though, you won’t be there to see it.”
A violet fire erupted from his hand, traveled down the chains, and began turning the Vampire bodies into piles of ash as he did the same to the heads before they could utter a word of negotiation or begging.
“What a waste,” Quinn sighed. Three Elder Vampires would’ve been a great source of knowledge on blood magic.
He waited for everything to turn into ash before stopping the fire and kicking the ash away into the winds for good measure.
Wind magic fluttered his robes as he took to the air and looked around the village. He had pulled three Giants to the ground. . . Fenrir Greyback’s death had put the Werewolves on either surrender or on backfoot. . . he had just purged three Elder Vampires and few normal ones here and there. . . and shot half a dozen Death Eaters half to death.
It was enough. If the Aurors couldn’t handle the rest, they shouldn’t be Aurors. He had done his part promised to Dumbledore. He looked to the part of the town in total destruction, ablaze in the brightest and hottest of flames.
That was his next destination. The final act of the big show. And he was going to be the performing acting on that stage.
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– (Scene Break) –
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The air, the ground, the water, and every broken piece of stone, wood and metal shook and trembled because of the sheer amount of power that emanated from the two men facing each other in the battle of magical dominance.
“Why struggle so much, Dumbledore?” Voldemort said with his hands behind his back. “You know your time has come, so why delay the inevitable end” he flicked his wand behind his back, and the flames all around him rose above his head, converging into a massive ball of fire. “Just surrender. . . and die.”
The ball of flames turned into a snake and slithered its way towards Dumbledore, who stood just as calmly as his opponent. Dumbledore waved his wand, and a giant spiraling vacuum appeared in the middle of the snake, sucking all the flames into one point. The spiral faced Voldemort and spewed the fire in one dense jet stream, forming a tornado ring of flames around the Dark Lord.
“I have been told I’m still very young,” Dumbledore said, watching Voldemort enveloped in flames. “Now is not the time for me to pass onto the next great adventure.”
The fire enveloping Voldemort rose up in the, still holding the tornado ring shape. The flames then converged into the flames that then shot up into the air like fireworks.
“The only reason you’re able to stand in front of me is because of that wand of yours,” Voldemort looked unharmed, not even a singe on his black robes. “Without the fabled Elder Wand, you are no match for me.”
“Without the dark rituals you used on your body, you wouldn’t be brave enough to stand before me,” Dumbledore said unfearingly. “I have already defeated one Dark Lord; you are no different, Tom.”
Voldemort scowled. “We will see about that.”
“We might be a match for each other, Tom. But I have some outstanding help with me,” Dumbledore smiled and turned to look at the sky.
Voldemort followed Dumbledore’s gaze and saw a figure in the sky flying toward them.
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Quinn West – MC – I still have a lot to learn.
FictionOnlyReader – Author – Let’s end the journey.
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