Danmachi Familia from Hell

17

Belakher may have been quick enough to react to the attack, but not enough to take the proper stance to withstand the vampire’s terrifying strength. He felt his feet lift off the ground as the hilt and claws collided. He flew perfectly between the parted curtains and crashed backwards through the window. He plummeted several meters down into the castle courtyard, steering his body midair so as not to impale himself on one of the spikes. He landed firmly on his feet, but felt the force of the fall in his ankles. Fortunately, they neither broke nor sprained thanks to the falna.
I must go back there! The elf thought. My lord has no chance against this monster without his powers.
Unexpectedly, the bloodsucker followed Landgrave himself. The violet-eyed saw his silhouette in the shattered window, then watched him leap down. He didn’t descend like an ordinary man but drifted slowly, like a leaf gently carried by the wind, until at last his bare feet touched the centuries-cracked cobblestone.

- I see, you’re another one of them - spoke the master of the castle, keeping a bored expression. - At first, I did not believe the gods could truly descend into this world and grant blessings to mortals, but long ago I was convinced there is not a grain of falsehood in it. For centuries mortals perished by my hand before they could so much as blink. Yet some of the soldiers beneath scarlet banners showing a warrior managed to follow me with their eyes, and a rarer few even blocked my first strike. I had hoped that such a long pause in attempts to seize my home meant you had accepted your defeat. As it seems, I was mistaken.

He speaks of the officers and generals of Rakia’s army, the elf thought. His movements are far too fast for the unblessed and for those on the first level. Those of the second have heightened enough senses to perceive them, but only third-level fighters like me could actually react.
Despite knowing that since he hadn’t lost his falna his god hadn’t been sent back to the heavens, he couldn’t help but avert his eyes from the enemy and glance at the broken window, where thankfully he saw Hades leaning against the frame.

- You take your eyes off the enemy in battle? Not very wise. Don’t worry, I’ll deal with your friend later. Unlike you, I don’t sense an ounce of power in him - declared the vampire.

- Wait! We did not come here to fight you! - the violet-eyed elf shouted.

- I’m sorry, but I cannot believe your words. Besides, intrusion into my castle is punished by death regardless - he said calmly, then transformed the claws of his other hand into daggers.

The bloodsucker lunged at Belakher with the ferocity of a beast and the energy of a wild stallion. Strike after strike rained down, which Landgrave blocked with the utmost effort. This time prepared for the attack, he was able to distribute his body’s weight properly, yet each blow still forced him to retreat step by step. The elf strained his sight to the very limit, certain that if he closed his eyelids even for the briefest fraction of a second, he would join his countryman.
The god of death, watching this scene, turned away and began running downstairs.
He’s too focused on Belakher for it to work from this distance. I must get closer, thought Hades.
Meanwhile, the long-eared one was doomed to dance to the vampire’s tune. He was forced into complete defense if he wanted to survive. He had to wait for some mistake, some slip on the opponent’s part. After several seconds, he realized the vampire wasn’t even aiming to strike his body. Instead, he focused on Landgrave’s weapon, intending to render the uninvited guest defenseless before striking for his life. Belakher barely managed to suppress a smile. His skin flushed red like a ripening strawberry from the exertion, and his sweat glands drenched him from head to toe. Yet he patiently allowed his opponent to remain in the illusion of dominance until, after about a minute, the crucial moment came. The master of the fortress swung his claws in a wide arc against the bident, and they finally broke after countless clashes with the divine weapon. Stunned, the vampire froze for only a second, but Landgrave was eager to seize it. Most weapons resembling bident were almost always used for thrusting at vital organs, but Hades’s possession was no mere spear forged by some common smith. By sheer will, Belakher lengthened both prongs, then swung the bident sideways like a sword, intending to cut off the vampire’s head. Yet the foe reacted in time, and as the elf saw him preparing to leap back, he extended the prongs even further. He failed to sever his head, but carved a deep slash along the entire length of his neck.
The vampire staggered back several meters and placed his hand with broken claws over the pierced artery, his eyes filled with shock and incomprehension. He had lived for centuries, yet until now, no elf, man, or beastman had ever managed even to wound him—and this damned spearman had dealt a blow that could have killed any ordinary being!