Bones straightened to his full height, his keen eyes assessing the surroundings. Lavish stone buildings lined the courtyard on all sides, their towering structures shrouded in shadows. Ivy crept up the sides of ornate walls, and marble statues stood as silent guardians, their eyes glinting eerily under the moonlight. It was unmistakably a manor—grand, extravagant, and oppressive in its splendor.

  Mathias staggered to his feet, his breath heavy as he took in the scene. "This... this must be Faas Manor," he murmured, his voice a mixture of awe and trepidation.

  Bones narrowed his eyes. "You recognize this place?"

  Mathias nodded grimly. "Only from a distance. Jeanie's familiar once scanned the western district and..." He trailed off, his gaze shifting uneasily toward the darkened windows that seemed to observe them.

  "We're being watched," Bones noted, and Mathias nodded in agreement. Before either could react, the atmosphere changed. A palpable weight settled over the courtyard, pressing against their chests like an invisible grip. The night grew silent, the faint distant noises ceasing abruptly. Bones felt his instincts scream at him, his body tensing as he scanned the shadows.

  A window overlooking the courtyard creaked open, drawing their attention, and they glimpsed a silhouette briefly disappearing and reappearing moments later in the courtyard.

  I couldn’t track his movements, Bones thought, while Mathias tightened his grip on his daggers, his gaze fixed on the far side of the courtyard, where a figure emerged from the darkness. The silhouette moved with an unnatural grace, its presence radiating an air of dominance and dread.

  As the figure stepped into the moonlight, its features became clear. A man dressed in opulent attire stood before them, his coat embroidered with intricate patterns of gold and crimson. His pale skin glowed faintly in the moonlight, and his piercing eyes, gleaming like molten rubies, locked onto Mathias with an intensity that sent a chill down his spine.

  “The mistress reported there were spies in the prison. I didn’t think you would survive, and here of all places. What of Kalus?” The figure asked.

  “What do you think?” Mathias replied with a slight smirk.

  “A pity. He was a promising asset; one of you will have to replace him then,” the figure remarked ominously, then turned his gaze to Bones, lingering for a moment as if evaluating him. “However, you... you’re not human. A Bonemancer, and undead?”

  Bones instinctively summoned a bone lance into his hand, his grip firm despite the tension coiling in his chest. He couldn’t yet discern what kind of power the count possessed, but it was clear this foe was in an entirely different league. He glanced to the side, assessing the condition of his companion and wondering if he had the strength to confront this new threat.

  “Don’t worry about me.” Mathias declared, meeting Bones' gaze with unwavering eyes but also a look of acceptance, leaving Bones puzzled but somewhat comforted. Mathias then turned to address the figure, “You are... Count Faas? If I’m not mistaken, you were a human thrall just a few months ago.”

  The count's red irises gleaming revealed significant changes had taken place recently. “Oh? Your information is correct, though not entirely current. I wonder what else you know; just how much do you know?” The Count emphasized the last sentence with a menacing undertone.

  Bones, standing next to Mathias, nudged him with an elbow and gave a slight nod towards the exit, the gates leading out of the courtyard.

  “Yes, that is the way out,” the Count confirmed and added, “you are free to leave, Bonemancer, but you Mathias, you will have to stay. We have much to discuss.”

  The offer sounded genuine, but they would be fools to trust a vampire. The shut gates opened with a wave of the count’s hand, and the action unnerved the two. The air of confidence around the count wasn't just him putting on airs. Both could sense they were no match for this adversary.

  “Bones,” Mathias started, but Bones interrupted, not entertaining the idea of accepting the count’s offer. “I’m not leaving without you!" Bones glanced at Mathias, whose face had gone pale. “Get ready,” he muttered under his breath. “We’re fighting our way out!”

  The Count heard them and exhaled, almost in relief, then proclaimed, “well, I don’t care either way. You have until the guards arrive. Now come!" he exclaimed. The air grew colder, and the courtyard darkened as the count’s lips curled into a predatory smile. "Show me how you dealt with Kalus!” he taunted as his body began to emit red mist.

  A desperate battle commenced, with Bones and Mathias making the first move. The spacious courtyard granted them the freedom to maneuver, allowing for grandiose spells and swift strikes. Without hesitation, Bones hurled his summoned golem cores toward the Count, immediately following up with a Bone Storm, unleashing a whirlwind of razor-sharp shards aimed at overwhelming their opponent. His goal was clear: to force the vampire to reveal his abilities while Mathias, a blurred shadow, flanked him for a lethal strike.

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  The disparity in strength became evident in mere moments. The Count's crimson mist coiled around him, forming an impenetrable barrier that halted the golems in their tracks while the bone projectiles veered off-course, repelled as though by an unseen force. Mathias’ assassination attempt, swift and precise, was met with sheer dominance. With terrifying speed, the Count caught the dagger mid-thrust, gripping the blade as it barely pierced through the mist. In the same fluid motion, he seized Mathias by the throat, effortlessly lifting him before driving a knee into his gut. The force of the impact sent Mathias hurtling through the air. He crashed onto the ground, rolling to a stop, his body convulsing as he clutched his stomach, gasping for breath.

  Bones immediately switched tactics, abandoning brute force in favor of his mastery over soul magic. He unleashed Soul Gaze, pouring his will into shackling the Count’s very essence, layering it with his Bone Manipulation to restrict movement. For a fleeting second, the Count's body tensed under unseen restraints—then, with a mere exertion of power, he shattered them. Yet, the soul attack had a different effect. The vampire’s expression twisted into one of fury, his features contorted in rage. Bones' eyes widened.

  It worked!

  Through sheer willpower, Mathias continued his assault. If his daggers could penetrate the mist, then so could Bones' spells. Realizing his advantage, he quickly summoned four empowered Bone Lances, readying them to strike in tandem with his soul magic. But just as he prepared to launch his attack, he saw a flicker of hesitation cross Mathias’ face. His movements shifted—no longer an aggressive assault, but a calculated defense, his strikes serving to preoccupy the Count rather than subdue him.

  "What are you—"

  Bones’ words were cut off by a sudden, unseen force slamming into him, sending him sprawling. He barely had time to recover before his gaze snapped toward Mathias, who had fallen to one knee, unable to rise. A thin, crimson thread extended from the Count’s hand, piercing Mathias’ ankle like a parasite leeching his vitality. Bones’ stomach dropped as understanding dawned on him. They had been fighting with different goals all along.

  Mathias never intended to leave this battle alive.

  Before Bones could voice his realization, Mathias spoke first. "I knew it ever since we fought Kalus… my condition has been deteriorating. The red mist in the tunnels—I inhaled too much of it. I’ve been burning my lifeforce just to stand."

  Bones clenched his fists. He didn’t need to see the Count’s deranged grin to know it was true.

  Mathias turned his pained gaze to their adversary, fury and despair etched onto his face. "How could you betray humanity?"

  The Count scoffed, his crimson eyes flashing with contempt. “Betray?” he echoed, as though the word itself was an insult. He took a step forward, his presence pressing down on them like a crushing weight. “Do not speak to me of betrayal, Wolford spy.” His voice rose with conviction.

  “I was born and raised in these lands. I watched my grandfather lead a rebellion, only to fail. I saw my father crumble under the weight of defeat, a broken man as reality set in. I swore I wouldn’t follow in their footsteps. The Vampire Lord’s presence is absolute—there was no path to victory, only survival. Eat or be eaten, and I chose to be at the top of the food chain.” His gaze darkened. “Enough talk. Accept your fate. This farce ends now.”

  With those words, the Count unleashed the full extent of his power. Dozens of blood-spears manifested around him, their crimson glow pulsating with lethal energy. They dripped onto the stone pavement, the scent of iron thick in the air. His transformation was almost instantaneous—his features sharpened, his fangs lengthened into deadly daggers, and his dark hair billowed wildly as raw power surged through him. The courtyard itself seemed to recoil under his presence.

  Bones and Mathias reacted with starkly different expressions. Mathias’ eyes widened in disbelief—the Count, only in his second tier, was wielding spells thought to be exclusive to elder vampires. Meanwhile, Bones was left speechless at the sheer number of blood-spears summoned, nearly tripling his own limit. He gritted his teeth in frustration. He chastised himself for not advancing his Bone Lance spell sooner. If he had, maybe—

  No… Our levels are too far apart. The outcome wouldn’t change.

  In that moment of clarity, Bones made a decision. He lunged forward, grabbed Mathias by the wrist, and began dragging him toward the exit. The Count, watching their desperation unfold, didn’t intervene. His smirk deepened, reveling in their futile hope. Mathias weakly resisted, attempting to pull free, to tell Bones to leave him behind—but his strength failed him. Instead, something shifted in his eyes. A spark of hope. A silent plea.

  They burst through the courtyard gates and into the streets. Bones barely had time to think as he asked, "Where next?"

  Mathias' voice was barely a whisper. "Next left. Then straight ahead."

  Bones turned the corner, but before he could take another step, a blur of crimson streaked past him from behind. Dozens of blood projectiles tore through the air, ensnaring Mathias mid-motion, yanking him backward.

  Bones spun around in horror, reaching out—but two guards encroached on his location and stepped into his path, blocking his way. Behind them, bloody tendrils coiled around Mathias, dragging his battered body back toward the Count.

  And then, as Bones stood frozen in helpless rage at his failed attempt at rescue, the vampire smiled. The last Bones saw of Mathias was the look of defiance in his eyes, not resignation, as he was dragged toward his ill-omened fate. Bones’ head sank, but he had no time to process his grief as more guards closed in. Gritting his teeth, he turned and fled in the direction Mathias had pointed.

  His escape from the western district left a trail of mutilated second-tier guards, their bodies torn apart as if he had unleashed all his bubbling frustration upon them.

  Bones reached the well half an hour before dawn, his clothes in tatters, his body marred with deep cracks and wounds. He ignored the persistent dinging of notifications, his mind elsewhere. He saw smoke rising from the direction of the warehouses and felt a wave of relief—Frank and Jeanie had succeeded and likely escaped. Following their path, he slipped into the well, vanishing into the tunnels beyond the city wall.

  Without a single glance back, Bones cut down every vampire spawn that dared cross his path until a familiar figure intercepted him on the way to their prearranged meeting place at the cottage.