After a lengthy wait, the clanking and clinging of armour echoed on the path. Swiftly, I positioned myself to spy on them. Before long, the princess emerged, trailed by her guards, some more loyal than others. I paid close attention to Lucius, Ardent, and the elusive female assassin in her 'circle of friends'. Their skill at concealment proved formidable. Sighing, I trailed them discreetly, prepared to intervene should the assassin strike. Though my vantage point afforded visibility, the challenge lay in the distance. My hope rested on Lucius and Ardent's ability to spot and eliminate the threat in time.
Having shadowed their journey for a considerable time, the assassin maintained a perplexing stillness, unwilling to unveil her sinister intent. The urgency of her impending actions loomed; otherwise, her patient vigil would be in vain. Determined, I traced their every move, leaping from vantage point to vantage point in my pursuit, anticipating the elusive assassin's next move with a heightened sense of vigilance.
Upon reaching the shrine, a peculiar discomfort overcame me as my gaze fell upon a golden statue of the goddess of love. Cloaked in a minimalistic attire that left her exposed, the goddess wore a suggestive smile, a paradox to her supposed divinity. The approach of the princess and her entourage prompted my search for a concealment, forcing me to settle for a distant hiding spot. Determined to showcase my prowess, I resolved to employ my unique ability, the trump card against any mortal adversary. This singular deployment aimed not only to safeguard my existence but to establish a potent reputation within the Ordo Noctis, a gambit with potential dividends for my standing and credit score.
As the princess knelt at the shrine, two peculiar women, likely the mountain's nuns, emerged. I couldn't help but ponder the authenticity of their youthfulness, wondering if something like "make-up" played a role. My skepticism deepened regarding the supposed holiness of the goddess they served. One of the nuns approached the princess, ceremoniously pouring oil over her head. The liquid saturated her garments, revealing the contours of her body and breasts. An uneasy feeling settled in as the other nun, wielding blood-red candles, dribbled molten wax onto the princess's exposed skin, turning the so-called "holy pilgrimage" into an increasingly discomforting spectacle.
Witnessing the sickening "baptism," my attention snapped to a guard sprinting towards the princess, sword unsheathed—a clear sign of the assassin's treachery. The moment had come for me to employ my mysterious ability. I delved into a profound meditative state, the world slowing to a crawl around me. Searching within, I sought the dark essence I had concealed within my being—an unsettling sensation that gripped my very soul... That *awful feeling*...
I unleash the dark, chaotic power within me, losing my mind, but my abilities surge to a level where not even our best knight can thwart me, even if I risk my own demise.
With swiftness beyond mortal perception, I descend upon the assassin, shattering her blade with my fangs. All I perceive is her. I ensured my focus on her before my transformation. The assassin halts, removes her helmet, revealing semi-long blonde hair and blood-red glowing eyes—exposing her as a vampire. Lucius and Ardent charge, but their speed is inadequate. She leaps across the mountain, proclaiming, "Follow me, Morsus. I'll show you the truth!" The humans and Lucius are stunned, yet my sole focus remains on ending her life.
Faster than her vampiric instincts, I leapt, slashing her face, nearly splitting her skull. Her defeat is evident; my 'Ace,' a concealed power, surfaces. A secret ability that I've kept hidden from everyone... I sacrifice mental control, gaining supernatural might surpassing even a vampire. Yet, I devolve into a mindless demon. As the ability fades, memory loss ensues, accompanied by near-death exhaustion, physical and spiritual debilitation, excruciating headaches, and more. Yet, in life-or-death scenarios, this power becomes my salvation.
She laughs, unveiling her healing visage. "I am a disciple of the God of Chaos! And I have come to claim you, his child!" My mind, a void, charges her. With elongated, razor-sharp nails, I pierce through her stomach. She spews forth a fountain of black blood, a grotesque contrast against the bright sun. With a swift motion, I seize her battered form and propel her over the mountain. The warm air whistles in my ears as I descend after her. The assassin's body, now a rag doll of broken limbs, collides with the unyielding stone below, a sickening thud echoing through the mountainous terrain. The impact fractures her back, contorting her into an agonizing position.
Gasping for air, her breaths are desperate and strained. It's all for naught, as my black steel boots descend upon her face, obliterating the fragile remnants of her skull. The mixture of the darkness inside me and sunlight paints a morbid scene as I stand triumphant over the fallen adversary. I cautiously withdraw my boots from her battered face, compelled to ensure the grisly task's completion. As I lean down to check for signs of life, a grotesque tableau unfolds. She coughs up more blood, each convulsion a testament to her impending demise. In a feeble attempt at revelation, she utters my name, "Morsus... Everything you know is false... The gods..."
Yet, I grant her no quarter. Swiftly, mercilessly, I shred her face apart, tearing it into unrecognizable fragments. Despite her vampiric resilience, the healing begins, a futile attempt against the inevitability of her demise. Weakly, she tries to convey a message, her words garbled by blood and desperation. "Ardent. Ardent. Listen to him-im..."
But her voice fades into a gruesome silence, swallowed by the mountain winds, and her life succumbs to the relentless march of death. The sinister hunger within me, an insatiable darkness, reared its head, demanding more than the mere extinguishment of life. It sought the consumption of flesh, an eerie craving that disregarded kinship with my fellow vampires. Kneeling amidst the aftermath, I mercilessly tore through her once-armoured form, rending the metal like fragile parchment to satiate my monstrous appetite. Despite the descent into unconsciousness, a vestige of awareness lingered, haunted by the remorseful desire to weep.
In the wake of this macabre feast, regret and self-loathing coiled within me. The monstrous transformation, the demonic power harnessed at the cost of sanity, had turned me into a true monster. A lament echoed within, a bitter acknowledgement of my wretched state. She, in her beauty, had sought only to aid me—an ill-fated connection that culminated in this terrible scene. This harrowing realization cemented my resolve never to form bonds with others...
Consuming her form in its entirety, the abyss within me momentarily sated, the oppressive darkness lifted. Following this abominable deed, my physical being succumbed to exhaustion, descending to the earth in oblivious surrender to the repercussions of my vile indulgence.