Door creaks open behind him as he steps into moonlight
William:
"The moon looks prettier tonight..."
But something feel not right, like the moon have an eye or maybe something else.
William:
"Strange…
The wind smells like iron-"
Freeze mid-step—eyes darting up.
TWANG
The bolt sings.
William:
"Too slow kiddo!
Even death must chase me.
Come closer! And I'll make you memory"
Mysterious guy with Crossbow:
"You’re fast, swordsman. But let’s see if you’re faster than a bolt."
William steps onto the broken courtyard stones, sword already drawn
William:
"Only one way to find out. Shoot."
Click
TWANG — bolt flies straight for his chest.
Sidesteps with a grunt.
William (chuckle):
"That all you got?"
From the shadowed spire, beneath a blood-drenched moon
Mysterious guy with Crossbow:
"Steel sings when drawn...
But bolts?
They whisper death."
Walking the shattered path, cloak torn by wind, William stand steady but deadly.
William (smirk):
"Let them whisper.
I only answer to screams."
Loads with reverence, like a priest at altar
Mysterious guy with crossbow:
"Your footsteps echo like a funeral drum.
Fate loads the crossbow.
I only pull the trigger."
William's eyes gleam like cold fire
William:
"Then pull it.
Let us see which god catches your prayer."
TWANG—
the bolt sings through the air, hungry for blood
Taking cover, reloading
Mysterious guy with crossbow:
"Give me five seconds."
William starts sprinting toward the tower
William:
"You’ll be dead in three."
William leaps up, kicks off broken stones, grabs edge
Fires another bolt
Misses by an inch
Flips over the ledge mid-air
William (smirk):
"Nice shot."
Mysterious guy with crossbow:
Draws dagger
"You’re too close—"
William:
Slashes in a clean arc
"Exactly where I want to be."
Mysterious guy with crossbow:
Staggers, drops dagger
"H-how…?"
Points blade at his throat
William:
"Speed beats range.
And you blinked."
William cut open the attacker mask making him see the guy's face clearly, he looks familiar thought.
William (confused):
"You feel familiar, do we ever meet?"
Same feeling strikes the mysterious guy too, he feels like meeting someone again, someone very close.
William:
"Name."
Mysterious guy:
"I'll be dead anyway, why would I tell you my name."
Williams relief a slight gasp, embedded his sword on the ground.
William:
"I won't kill someone unless I have a good reason for it dumbass, just answer it."
Mysterious guy:
"Huh... Fine, it's Lucien."
William:
"Wait what? Lucien? Are you ever been with Sparda family?"
Lucien eyes widen up, the wind blows softly making both cloak move dramatically.
Lucien:
"Are you William? William Sparda?"
William nod slowly and confused.
Suddenly Lucien restoring his posture and bow to The Sparda Heir.
Lucien bowed his head lower, his silver hair brushing the broken floor.
Lucien:
“I—I was blinded by time, Master Sparda. The centuries were cruel. Your lineage faded from memory, and I... I mistook you for just another mortal pest.”
William (snorted):
“Mortal pest with a blessed whip, silver blade, and enough attitude to make Lucifer need a drink.”
Lucien (winced):
“Yes. The... the blessed whip should’ve been a clue.”
William stepped closer, boots crunching over old glass.
William:
“You tried to kill me, Lucien.”
Lucien:
“I thought you were a threat!”
William:
“I was a threat. I still am.”
Lucien (nodded rapidly):
“Exactly. I mean—yes, but not in the bad way. I mean, obviously you’re dangerous, Master, but not in the ‘stab me through the heart’ way. More the ‘lead me through damnation’ sort of dangerous, which I now fully support.”
William (narrowed his eyes):
“You grovel well.”
Lucien:
“I have had... practice.”
With a long sigh, William tapped Lucien’s shoulder with the hilt of his sword.
William:
“Fine. Apology accepted. But one more misstep, and I’ll feed you your own ribs.”
And so, with dawn breaking over the ruin, Lucien rose—humbled, bound once more to House Sparda, and absolutely certain he’d never mistake his master again.
Not if he wanted to keep his ribs.
Lucien (smiled faintly):
“As you command, Master Sparda. Shall I ready your horse?”
William:
“There is no horse.”
Lucien:
“Then... shall I pretend to be one?”
A pause.
William (muttered):
“…No,"
Walking away.
William:
“But I’m filing that under ‘possible punishment’.”
......................
William journey to the capital is slow, deliberate. The forests give way to open fields, the air growing thinner as He approach the highlands. The path grows steeper. But even as the hills rise before you, you can feel the pull—the weight of the Valemonts.
They are near.
But now someone is following William.
And he is mad about it
William (glint his teeth):
"For fuck’s sake!
Why are you kept following me dipshit!"
Lucien:
"My bloodline was supposed to protect Sparda Family sir, we once swore an oath to protect Sparda Family no matter what happen, And I was the last heir after that night.
I kept guarding and watch the Manor since ever, until I saw you and thought you were some thieves!"
William:
"Yeah but there is no Sparda anymore, They're all buried with those ruin, now fuck off!"
Lucien:
"But you look alive enough to me Sir William"
William (annoyed):
"Huh whatever, just don't be a death weight."
As they continue towards the capital, Ashendale—the place where the rotting noble family lives—Valemont.
......................
The sun dipped low behind the hills, spilling molten gold across the crumbling road. Birds chirped in tired defiance of the coming night, and the air was thick with the scent of moss, old stone, and something that might’ve been hope. William Sparda walked in silence, armor creaking softly, while beside him strode Lucien—human, sarcastic, and very much not a vampire.
The dirt road stretched through the dying woods like a scar, flanked by skeletal trees and whispering wind. William Sparda trudged forward, his boots caked in the mud of a thousand regrets.
The capital. A sprawling maze of cobbled streets, stone walls, and cold, looming towers. It is a place of power, but not your power. Here, the nobility weave their webs, trading favors and bloodlines.
He knows they wait for Him. The Valemonts are scattered in the highest circles of this place. Power, once held in the shadows, now basks in sunlight.
And finally they both arrived.
Ashendale, Walachia's Capital
William's footsteps echo against the stone streets as He moves deeper into the heart of Ashendale. The whispers are already there, clawing at His ears, speaking in hushed tones.
And then—
He saw them.
A group of nobles stands outside a grand mansion, their clothing fine, their eyes sharp. Among them is a woman—dark eyes, pale skin, lips curved in a smirk. Her presence cracks the air around her, like a wave of ice.
William (smile):
"There they are... the Valemont."
Lucien:
"I've got a bad feeling about this.
What are we on about sir Wil?"
William:
"They're the one who priced our head dumbass, our family died by their sins"
Lucien:
"For fuck's sake, I demand a revenge to them then-"
——
The woman steps forward, her gaze locking onto William with predatory precision. There’s surprise in her eye
Valemont Woman (smiling coldly):
"So, I thought everyone died that night. rises from the ashes I see.
Did you come to reclaim what was never yours, or simply to bury us all with your family’s curse?"
What’s your next move, Sparda? You’ve found the heart of the nest.
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