Chapter Twenty-Four: The Eccentric Young Girl

If I were to fire now, the Divine Sword round could pierce through Vasilisa’s brain. Yet, if the legends about her are true, such a wound wouldn’t be fatal. As long as she fell into a coma, perhaps the rest of the Sword and Shield Society’s warriors would reconsider and retreat for now.

The Divine Sword round could penetrate even the skull of the Red Devil, wreaking havoc within the wound and causing massive blood loss; it was ammunition designed specifically for eliminating single targets.

Steady, steady—I don’t want to kill her. I just don’t want to be drawn into a larger catastrophe. If she falls, all of us can leave safely.

I climbed to a vantage point, aimed at her forehead, focusing all my attention, even forgetting the fishbone still stuck to my hand. I wasn’t far from her; members of the Sword and Shield Society blocked her, but my elevated position gave me a clear shot.

I squeezed the trigger. The bullet left the chamber, becoming visible, but its speed was like a thunderbolt—far beyond the reach of the human eye.

Vasilisa’s eyes shifted slightly. She raised her hand, and the Divine Sword round stopped between her fingers. The bullet continued spinning at high speed, making her armored glove smoke, but advanced no further.

I was nearly so shocked I fell from the rock.

She flicked her fingers. The bullet turned into a silver flash, shooting toward me. My mouth hung open; there wasn’t even time to utter a syllable. I heard a metallic ring—the bullet was deflected. It was the fishbone; by chance, it rose and saved my life.

Vasilisa said, “Longinus, you certainly have courage.”

My drug’s effects faded, and I became visible. Myrce saw me and shouted, “Where did you come from?”

At that moment, the spider demons’ assault grew fiercer. The Sword and Shield Society was under heavy attack, each member fighting with all their might. Lamia ran to my side. She couldn’t speak behind her gas mask but gripped my gun, as if asking, “Why did you fire at her?”

I was thinking of the bigger picture—I wanted everyone to make it back alive.

Some spider demons spotted us. Lamia switched to regular rounds, firing over her shoulder as we ran. Most spider demons were drawn to the Sword and Shield Society, so the pressure on us was less, and compared to the White Devil, these creatures were fragile. Standard rifle bullets were enough to seriously injure them.

We regrouped with the Sword and Shield Society. Vasilisa said, “You must have no fear of death, daring to approach me again?”

Lamia bowed repeatedly, sincerely. Vasilisa replied, “He failed to kill me, and I didn’t kill him. I’ll let it go for now, but there must not be a next time.”

Surprisingly reasonable of her—perhaps out of respect for my ancestors?

Just then, the spider demons changed tactics. I noticed and pointed skyward.

The spider demons descended from above, hanging upside down, spewing webs that ensnared our guns and swords, pulling them upward. Salvador and Betty lost their guns instantly. The moment Lamia’s weapon was ensnared, she drew her sword and slashed the web apart. I used the fishbone to free myself as well, and together we opened fire, shooting the spider demons from the air.

The creatures kept spinning webs—each thread exploding in midair like a grenade. The silk was tough, nearly impossible to break without a blade. The Sword and Shield Society’s formation broke down. The silk stuck to armor, and while a thin layer didn’t hinder movement, a mass of it was stickier than the strongest glue. Many warriors, Vasilisa included, were trapped as if in a swamp, their heavy armor now a burden.

I shouted, “Don’t let the webs entangle you! Keep moving! Dodge them!”

I, Lamia, Betty, Salvador, and the remaining fighters began to evade, but those already trapped faced grave danger. The spider demons pounced, savagely tearing at the joints of their armor. Though the armor was tough and couldn’t be easily removed, with the webs binding them, even if the armor saved their lives, they’d likely suffocate.

Myrce shouted, “Duchess!” He wasn’t trapped but rushed toward the ensnared, clearing a path with his “Stone Pine.” He was too conspicuous and was quickly bound fast by descending webs.

Lamia aimed at the spider demons’ heads, continuing to shoot, and I provided cover. But the creatures came in endless waves, so quickly I didn’t even have time to reload. Some leaped past the Sword and Shield Society, coming straight for us. Good news: they seemed to be running low on webs, firing less frequently. Bad news: there were too many, moving too fast; our guns could only delay the inevitable.

I tore off my mask and shouted, “Commander, we’ll fall back to the second contact zone! I’ll cover you!”

Lamia replied, “We go together—don’t play the hero.”

At that moment, a thunderous explosion rang out. My ears were ringing, buzzing. I saw flames rise like a mushroom cloud; the spider demons were consumed mercilessly.

Vasilisa stood in the flames atop a mountain of charred spider demon corpses. She had discarded her armor, revealing a frail body, her black curls writhing in the hot wind like venomous snakes. Then, a layer of black fur covered her from head to toe, and she became a pitch-black, upright wolf, with red eyes and golden claws larger than a man’s chest.

Betty asked in a trembling voice, “What did she do?”

I guessed she’d detonated everyone’s armor, slaughtering the massed spider demons, but she herself was unharmed—she’d planned it all along.

Salvador asked, “But why is she fine?”

Of course she was—she’s a supernatural banshee. From a young age, she was already a killer. Afterward, the demon who saved her fashioned her into a weapon of slaughter.

Vasilisa hunted the remaining spider demons, moving with impossible speed. None survived more than a second under her claws, and none of their webs could bind her. She was like a raging typhoon, annihilating everything in her path—unstoppable.

Myrce was still alive, not killed by the blast. He was badly burned but merely unconscious. I was the first to reach him, panicked by the severity of his injuries. Lamia handed me a medical syringe. “I found it in the control room,” she said. I thanked her and injected Myrce. The medicine worked quickly—I could see improvement.

I thought we should fall back to the second contact zone, but when I turned, our retreat was blocked by spider webs.

A massive shadow crawled above us—another spider demon, twenty meters tall, even more shocking than Yune. It landed before Vasilisa.

It hissed, then spoke in the voice of an ancient crone: “Who are you? Why did you kill my children?”

Vasilisa answered, “Because they stood in my way. Are you the mother of these demons?”

“I am,” the spider demon replied.

Vasilisa said, “My patience is thin. Move aside.”

The spider demon declared, “I made a pact with a mortal. He allows me to dwell here, to seal those inside, to fend off those outside.”

Vasilisa asked, “Who made the pact with you?”

The spider demon replied, “A scholar named Longinus. He foresaw that the ill-intentioned would come, seeking to release the disaster behind that door.”

Vasilisa retorted, “To hear such lofty declarations from a usurping demon is a bitter irony.”

The spider demon hissed, “I know your purpose. Longinus warned me about your kind. You are of the bloodline—you smell the ancestral blood inside.”

Vasilisa smiled, a wild and savage look.

The spider demon continued, “Among vampires, there is a dreadful custom—they can consume the blood of their ancestors to gain greater power. They call it ‘Ancestor Feast,’ and it is a grave crime among the bloodline. But within them lurks a beast of savage hunger, uncontrollable appetite, and ambition.”

Vasilisa replied, “You know a lot for a pitiful prisoner.”

The spider demon said, “But you know nothing of who is behind that door—you know only that he is an ancestor, but his name and line are a mystery to you.”

Vasilisa said, “There’s a legend among the bloodline that claims Cain from the Bible was the origin of the blood curse—the first of our kind.” She turned her gaze to the massive, pitch-black, seemingly unbreakable prison door, and laughed. “And the prisoner within bears the codename Cain.”

I cared nothing for these ancient, absurd tales. This should have been our chance to escape, but the spider demon mother, in her madness, had sealed off our retreat. Lamia slashed at the webs with her longsword, but it only cut deep and stuck fast; she struggled to pull it out, but the web remained undamaged.

“So you were lured here by this rumored ancestral blood,” the spider demon hissed, “seeking to claim this ancient power, thinking you’ll become the mightiest vampire.”

Vasilisa replied, “To tell you the truth, I couldn’t care less about the bloodline’s genealogy or the fables of the Bible. Whether the one inside is my ancestor or my father—it’s all fantasy. The only thing I care about is this: his blood is valuable to me; he’s weak; he’s an easy prey; his power can be mine.”

The spider demon said, “Longinus told me about you—you are the witch from Eastern Europe, a butcher far crueler than we demons.”

Vasilisa’s bearing was proud and noble. “Not anymore. Now I am a guardian of humanity, a shepherd to the flock. The will of the Sword and Shield Society lives in me; I am bathed in its light and learn from its virtues. I have shed my wickedness, purged my malice. I—Vasilisa Genova—Duchess of the Sword and Shield Society, one of the Nine Hermits, adopted daughter of Anastasia Genova, have inherited her will. With my own hands, I will set the world right and restore the glory of human civilization to Earth.”

At first, I thought Vasilisa was spouting nonsense, but her voice was unexpectedly sincere, making it hard to associate her with the cruel banshee of antiquity. I looked at the duchess—she no longer seemed evil or monstrous; her slight figure radiated nobility and grandeur.

And yet, she was still so melodramatic.

“You are of the bloodline—not human!” hissed the spider demon.

Vasilisa replied, “The bloodline comes from humanity. I am better than you demons—you are the ones responsible for the world’s ruin!”

“Not us—not me, at least. I have never left this place. I know nothing of what has transpired outside,” the spider demon answered.

“Then move aside! Let me claim the power I deserve. Let me be the sharp sword and strong shield of humanity. Otherwise, I will see you as evil and destroy you in an instant,” Vasilisa declared.