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[PR: Ash]

Regis broke the stalemate first. He gave his companions a calm look, soothing their emotions, then he slowly turned to the group of people before him. “We have two paths ahead of us. One, you can summon all your brethren here, while we will summon the blood-drinkers from the wilderness and the night. This place will be turned into a bloody hell, but that will be meaningless, and innocents will be harmed.” Regis looked at the sleeping soldiers. Earnestly, he said, “We have a better choice. We can talk in peace.”

Felix adjusted his sunglasses coolly. “Those sleepyheads have nothing to do with us. We’re immune to that threat.” But he sheathed his blade because Roy gave him a look.

The tension eased up a lot, but then Dettlaff added fuel to the fire. He glared at the witchers, not bothering to hide his fury. “Then come on! What are you waiting for? You’re the ones in the wrong, mutants, and you dare act coy? What makes you think you have the right to do that? Because you have power? Then let me see if you are as strong as you think.”

And he launched into an offensive. Like a gust of wind, he darted at Felix.

A silhouette appeared in the air. Roy stood in front of his companion, knowing where Dettlaff would strike. Lava Quen covered his armor in a crimson barrier. His hands, like red-hot iron, clasped Dettlaff’s claws. With Aerondight’s Guardian, the decoctions, and Yrden’s power, Roy’s strength and speed had surpassed the higher vampire’s.

Dettlaff screeched from the burn and the pain, his scream almost ear-piercing. Everything blurred, and the crowd saw a fiery humanoid creature and a bat flying into the skies, brawling and clashing, hurtling through the air, attacking their enemy.

The gigantic bat flapped its wings, blocking the silver weapon’s attack. It turned into a swarm of bats, evading the flames and air currents coming at it. The monster opened its maw and let loose a soundwave attack. Then it tossed a spear covered in crimson flames and swung its claws, leaving a trail of bloody marks behind.

The witcher swung his sword, deflecting the monster’s claws and fangs. And when he found an opening, he hurled an energy beam back at the monster. With his left hand, he kept pulling his crossbow’s trigger, the bolts bursting into crimson flowers of blood every time it hit the monster.

The Signs rampaging through the air was stirring up the chaos energy floating around. The clash went on. Where sword and claw met, the darkness was torn through, and colorful flames painted the skies of Fen Carn, as if the fighters were putting on a fireworks show.

The witchers and Dettlaff’s companions did not move. They stayed still, keeping this fight just between Roy and Dettlaff. Thirty seconds went by.

Fus!

The ancient Shout ripped the air apart and hurtled through the night skies. Everyone’s hearts stopped for a moment. Bearing the brunt of the Shout’s power, the big bat froze and fell from the skies, as if it had its wing clipped. The moment it fell to the ground, the bat returned to its human form, but the remaining impact sent him sliding a few yards backward.

The higher vampire’s legs and left hand were holding the ground, and half of his right arm was missing. He was like a desert lizard basking under the night with its front legs held up. Dettlaff was covered in sweat, his cheeks burning a shade of sickly red. His hands and torso were charred, covered in bleeding wounds. A few bolts were shuddering, buried in his flesh, though the wounds were healing fast. Even his missing arm was growing back.

Roy landed beside Coral. He gave her a reassuring look and cracked his neck. Aside from the white marks on his armor, he was unhurt. Even without using Fear, he could emerge triumphant from a battle with a higher vampire. “Now am I strong enough to talk?”

Roy stared at the worn-down Dettlaff. Blood and Wine hadn’t opened its curtains at this point in time, but he played the game in his last life, and he knew Dettlaff. He had enough heart to fall in love with a human woman, give all his trust to her, and offer everything he had to her. He had enough fury to lead an army of lower blood-drinkers to slaughter a whole city after he was deceived and abandoned. Dettlaff was an impulsive man who loved and hated with passion, but unless things went to high hell, Dettlaff could listen to advice.

Dettlaff quietly retreated to his companions’ side, his eyes flickering with respect and wariness. Respecting the strong was a tacit agreement across all species. Natanis, Regis, and Orianna were looking at the witchers in a different light. They acknowledged these people as their equals.

“Now let’s talk about culpability.” Roy looked around and loudly said, “If you hadn’t taken Gaetan and Erin away, we wouldn’t have barged into this little gathering of yours.

“You seem to be quite forgetful, witcher. A few years ago, you killed Gruffyd in Vizima on a whim. You killed a Southern higher vampire on my turf,” retorted Natanis gently, the air around her filled with seduction. “The Elder of Vicovaro, furious, ordered that I apprehend the murderer, but years went by, and I brought no results. It wasn’t until we, through a stroke of good luck, found the injured Gaetan, did we come up with a compromise to patch up the South’s loss and calm the Elder down. You are the one who started this, witcher.”

A higher vampire died, so they captured a Cat to fill in the hole? How. And then Roy had a guess.

Kiyan raised his head higher, his crimson eyes flickering coldly. “That murderous bastard killed innocents and drank human blood all he wanted. So what if he died? Don’t tell me you agree with how he worked?”

“But you shouldn’t have desecrated his remains.” Regis looked at the potion belt hanging around the witchers’ torso. There were four bottles that had the gleam of blood in them. They have one higher vampire decoction each.

“Hah.” Eskel crossed his arms, snarling. “Gruffyd fed on humans recklessly. He should’ve known the day would come where he would be used as food and components. What happened to him was just the outcome of his actions. His punishment from destiny.”

The higher vampires looked solemn, but they nodded. Including Dettlaff. They were birds of a feather. The males had broken free of their lust for blood. Even though they lived solitary lives, they fed on human food. The ladies would drink on occasion, but they followed the law of equal trade. Natanis took blood from her customers, while Orianna sourced it from the orphanage she ran. What Gruffyd did was opposite to their ideals and the Elder’s law. Death was just right for him.

“I agree, witcher. That’s how things should be, but telling us that is useless. You’ll have to explain it to the Unseen Elder face to face.” A hint of fear flickered in Dettlaff’s eyes. “Even if you refuse to see him, it is too late now. The Elder will soon find the answers through our memories and know that you are Gruffyd’s true killers. In the near future, he will leave his cave and come to you. Along with him comes your destruction.”

Dettlaff paused, and he warned, “You are powerful, witcher, but you are incomparable to the Elder. He has lived for more than two thousand years. Words alone cannot describe the extent of his powers.” Dettlaff clenched his fists, carefully choosing his words. “He is the god of all vampires. One snap of his fingers, and we’d be pulverized.”

Aside from Roy, the witchers and Lytta were shocked. They’d never heard of the Unseen Elder before. Two thousand years old at least. I can’t believe something that ancient exists in this world.

Roy stood up straighter. Without fear, he said, “After this mess is resolved, I will answer to the Elder, but you’ll have to lead the way.”

“I hope you’ll stay true to your word.” Regis gazed at the witcher, trying to see through him. He wanted to know if Roy was truly confident, or if this was just an act.

Curiosity was flowing in Roy’s eyes. The Unseen Elder could defeat Geralt easily, but I wonder if he’s stronger than the Lionhead Spider. That was a literal god. And he had a bold plan hatching in his mind. If it worked, the Elder would become a great help to the brotherhood.

“The Elder’s matter aside, I have something else I want to ask.” Roy paused, staring into the higher vampire’s eyes. “Erin and Gaetan are alive, aren’t they?”

The witchers held their breaths. Their main reason for this trip was to save Erin and Gaetan.

The higher vampires exchanged quiet looks. Orianna pulled her hair back and nodded. “I expected nothing less from sleuths like you, witcher. That is correct, but even if you can calm the Elder’s rage, it is too late now. The ship has sailed. Erin and Gaetan have cut all ties with their old lives. It is impossible for them to return to what was.”

“Make it simple.” Kiyan cocked his eyebrow. “Are they imprisoned? Or are they so badly hurt, they cannot move?”

“I’m afraid that’s not the case.” Roy slowly looked around, and he made a shocking conjecture. “You’re trying to turn Erin and Gaetan into one of you, aren’t you? Through some special ritual, no less.” He was reminded of what Dawo saw in the dream. “They’re lying in the coffins because of their changes, and the process is irreversible, isn’t it?” Roy said confidently, as if he knew that to be the truth. “When a witcher kills a higher vampire, you’ll turn another witcher into one of you. That’s the compensation you meant.”

Another bout of dead silence fell upon the ruins. Eskel, Felix, and Kiyan stopped breathing for a moment, and their eyes went wide in shock. Turning witchers into higher vampires sounded like an absurd joke.

Coral’s eyes were gleaming, and she twirled her hair with her finger. This is a miracle in the field of mutation.

The higher vampires exchanged a look of disbelief. In the end, Regis heaved a long sigh, it almost sounded like a twisted whistle. In disbelief and awe, he stared at Roy. “Roy, tell me the truth. You’re a higher vampire disguised as a witcher, aren’t you? How else did you find out about our plans?”

“You have a good sense of humor, Regis.”

“This is no joke. Your guess is half correct. We do not call this ritual ‘turning.’ Instead, it’s procreation.” Regis sounded resigned, and he touched his missing sideburn. “This is how our tribe extends our bloodline.”

“You’re saying higher vampires cannot procreate through natural means?” Lytta understood the implied meaning right away.

“Sorry, but I can’t share that information.”

Refusing to give up, the sorceress said, “I thought we wanted an honest conversation? If you don’t tell us the truth and convince us, we’re not going to give up on the rescue of a brotherhood’s member.” Lytta touched her beautiful nails.

“You’re powerful, and you stick to your principles. You’ve shown mercy multiple times, so it’s no problem telling you, but it’s a heavy history filled with sorrow,” Natanis said. “You have to swear you’ll never tell anyone of this.”

Orianna put her hands before her belly. Solemnly, she added a heavy price. “Swear that you’ll keep this a secret, or witchers will fall into extinction in the near future.”

That wasn’t enough to quench everyone’s curiosity. They did as they were told.

Winds whispered through the night, and then silence fell to the ruins once more. Until Regis’ deep voice slowly spoke up. “About fifteen hundred years ago, our clan, or at least a thousand higher vampires and an army of lower blood-drinkers, were captured by the power of space-time during the first Conjunction. We were taken from our home and descended upon this world. The three Unseen Elders were filled with ambition when they first landed, thinking their clan would take root in the new world and expand in numbers, but little did they know, this was the beginning of their nightmare.”

Regis paused, and he held Natanis’ hand. “Everything was as usual when they first landed. Males and females could join, birth children, and raise the next generation. They could only have one child once a century, but at least the tribe’s numbers could be maintained. However, as time went by, the water, food, plants, chaos energy, and everything else that was different from our world started affecting us. That affliction was irreversible. First, four out of five newborns would suffer from multiple organ failures and die in the first five years after their birth. One out of five managed to survive, but their mind would slowly twist as they grew. Eventually, they would be nothing but beasts driven by their desire to feed on blood. The Elders tried their best to change the situation, but alas.”

The higher vampires hung their heads low, the look on their faces sad. Natanis, ever a sentimental one, was shaking, and tears glistened in her eyes. If they had no family to walk with them through their long lives, they would eventually fall into loneliness. Orianna at least could play with her orphanage’s kids, but Natanis barely had anyone beside her.

“But that was not the end. Over the next century, even the surviving children died. All higher vampires became sterile and barren, and because some parts of us are different from the locale, we cannot make any children with any sentient life forms in this world. Do you know what that means for a species?”

Roy solemnly answered, “Extinction. Without new blood, any species will eventually face extinction, including higher vampires. Even with your incredibly long lifespan, you cannot escape that.”

Coral held his arm, her face a shade whiter. She could feel for the higher vampires’ situations. They were just like witchers and sorceresses.

“Six hundred years went by. Owing to a lot of circumstances, the tribe’s numbers dwindled from the original thousand to only five hundred. As extinction drew near, fate finally showed us a sliver of kindness. Through trials and tribulations, the Elders, using their power and experience, created a way to create new members of the tribe in this world. You call that process as turning. I, Dettlaff, Orianna, and Natanis are products of the ritual. We used to be regular humans too.”

Regis stopped talking all of a sudden, confusion flickering in his eyes. Roy was shocked. Not even a ‘seer’ like him knew of this. Higher vampires have this kind of history? No wonder the Unseen Elder wants to return to his home so much.

“Can you tell us more about the ritual?” The sorceress wanted to hear more. “Witchers create their own kind through mutations, while higher vampires create offspring through a ritual. Don’t you think they’re similar?” Perhaps this is how the world punishes people who live long lives.

“They are not similar!” Dettlaff scowled angrily.

Regis patted his shoulder. “We can tell you. You’ll know it’s futile to do anything then. First, there are a few rules to follow for the ritual.” Regis circled around a jutting rock. “Every member can only make one new member every century. The reason for that? Once the required components to turn someone into one of us is used up, it will only be replenished after a hundred years have elapsed. Second rule, the target must be someone with debilitating diseases or those who are heavily injured and dying.”

Oh, so that’s why they took Erin and Gaetan away. One’s terminal, and the other was badly hurt, Roy thought. “Can’t you take a regular guy?”

“Unless the target is grateful for the change and accepts it fully, they might not make it through the ritual. It’s something the Elders concluded through many experiments. Three, two higher vampires must work together for the ritual, and their blood can only turn one target into another higher vampire. As you guessed, the main process for the ritual is the transfusion of blood. We change the target’s blood out for ours. Four of us have enough blood for just two new members.”

I see. Roy slowly looked at the pale higher vampires. No wonder they’re suffering from blood loss.

“How does the blood transfusion work?” Lytta asked.

“First, we drain the targets of their blood. All of it.” Orianna showed the witchers her fingers. All fingertips had a cross-shaped scar on them. “Then we press our fingertips against theirs, guiding our blood into their bodies at a gentle speed.”

The witchers thought this was new. They’d never heard of any blood transfusion process of that level. Only higher vampires could do that.

“Once the transfusion is complete, they need a month to change. Our blood will modify their bodies from the inside out, and then they will be reborn.” A hint of excitement flared in Dettlaff’s eyes. “To be honest, this is my first time making an offspring.”

“So Gaetan and Erin have started their transformation?”

“That is correct, and they did it willingly. If you take them away now, their transformation might fail, leaving you with nothing but a pair of lifeless corpses. Erin’s transformation will be complete soon.” Regis turned around, looking at the sky. Midnight was fast approaching. He turned to the tomb far away, his eyes glinting with love, like a father thinking about his daughter. “After tonight, one month will have elapsed. She will bid farewell to her disease and gain a new lease on life.”

Kiyan cocked his eyebrow in disbelief. “A regular human is turned into a higher vampire just like that. Our mutations are fraught with risks and pain. Doesn’t your transformation come with any sort of complication or price to pay?”

The witchers stared at the higher vampires, and the higher vampires fell silent.

“Of course there’s a price to pay.” Regis shook his head, and he said, “Everything comes with a price. Think about it. You’re terminal or dying from your injuries. Death is coming for you, and you’re trapped in weakness and agony, but then a chance presents itself to you. Accept it, and you will become a new person. You will possess immunity, recovery, speed, and strength on par with gods. You will have the power to turn into bats, to summon monsters, to teleport, to turn invisible, and so much more. You will have near immortality. But this chance comes with a price.”

An adamant voice spoke through the dark. “The price you pay is equal to the power you gain.”

The witchers stopped breathing for a moment. An ominous feeling crept up their spines.

“First, the target’s human blood will be drained. All of it. Their consciousness will only be kept alive through the blood we pump into their veins. They will be having a close brush with death and enter a special state. For a month after that, they can only spend their days in a coffin as their bodies are modified. The process is so painful, it will feel like their flesh is getting scraped off their bones inch by inch.”

Regis took a deep breath, and he shivered. “But that’s not the heaviest price to pay. As the transformation happens in totality, the brain will be affected as well. In other words, the transformation will rob the target of all their memories, cutting off their old life. They will be born as something akin to a baby, chasing sweet blood as their instinct tells them to.”

Dettlaff continued, “For the first year, the newbies are victims of their lust for blood. They have no memories and do not know what they’re doing. Without an elder’s guidance, they will tear apart every human they come across and suck them dry. And as if they’re cursed, they go after the blood of their old self’s family. Even a sliver of their scent drives the newbies crazy. Without their memories and self-control, the newbies will kill their family without mercy or hesitation.”

Everyone felt chills going down their spines. They were starting to wonder if this rebirth was a blessing or a curse.

Regis let out a long sigh. “Once all their old family members are dead, they will step into a new life.”

***

Aiden and Coen quietly took Dawo through the traps and sleeping bruxae in the tomb. Finally, they came to the resplendent burial chamber in the center, standing before two marble coffins.