Just as he had suspected, Trill didn't take long to find an old ruin. It looked like it had once been an enormous pyramid that inspired awe in anyone passing through the area, but time had left standing only a few structures no taller than three meters.
"And here's where the monster that's scaring everyone lives… Maybe I'm wrong and it's not a vampire, although…" he muttered as he carefully approached the dangerously stacked stones.
The ruins showed no entrance, no portal that could once have been a door. They were more like an obelisk in the middle of the forest, overgrown with vegetation on all sides. However, his instincts told him that this was, without a doubt, the place he was looking for. His super-hunter senses couldn't lie.
He circled the entire complex, inspecting every corner, but found no way in. Not from above, not from below. Frustration began to gnaw at him, and he was about to curse his luck when he heard footsteps in the distance.
Two orcs were walking calmly, carrying a pair of men tied upside down like pigs ready for slaughter. In their free hands, they each carried a strange, glowing cylinder.
"So he told me she wasn't his wife… but a goat. You should've seen his face when he found out!" said one of the orcs, roaring with laughter."I can imagine, though I bet he didn't even notice the difference," replied the other, and both broke into even louder laughter as they approached the ruins.
When they reached the structure, one of the orcs declared confidently:"I come in the name of Lord Minea Cel-Rua!"
Suddenly, the ruin began to move. From the ground, as if operated by some complex pulley system, it slowly rose. Like the froth of beer, it lifted to reveal a small entrance hidden among the foliage. The orcs entered, unaware that the silent hunter was following close behind.
With the precision of a predator, Trill slid his knife across the orcs' throats before they could react, their bodies collapsing at his feet."Thanks, friends," he said while wiping his blade. "Literally, I couldn't have gotten in without you."
The hunter couldn't help but notice the contents of the cylinders the orcs had been carrying. When they hit the ground, they spilled, releasing a fine reddish liquid that, at first glance, looked like wine. But Trill, just from the smell, knew exactly what it was."So the sicko boss has a taste for fine wine… Each cup worth a head, almost literally," he chuckled under his breath. "Too bad, I don't like wine. I prefer something stronger."
He straightened up and watched as, like magic, the ruin sank back into the ground. As soon as there was no sunlight, the candles in the place lit themselves, bathing the dark halls in a sinister glow."Oh, I see… So it is a vampire who lives here."
In the distance, Trill heard the sound of a pulley. A metallic creak signaled that a basket was rising from a dark hole, from which soon emerged a strange orc—much smaller and more hunched than the ones he had fought earlier. He wore a fine suit and sported a neatly trimmed mustache. Stopping before Trill, he stepped out of what looked like a pulley elevator, making way for the young man.
"Welcome, visitor. Lord Cel-Rua is expecting you.""Well, look at that, he's got you wrapped around his finger," Trill said with a smirk. "Alright, take me to this Lord Butt-Wheel guy."
Obediently, the orc pulled a lever, and the elevator began to descend. After a brief ride, it stopped in front of an ostentatious door adorned with pink velvet and oak wood.
"I beg you to step down, visitor. Your merchandise is waiting.""Merchandise? Well, it looks like you know exactly why I'm here. Fine, once I see this 'Lord Sir-Cuke,' I'll ask him why he's got such awful taste in architecture," Trill mocked.
As he stepped out of the basket, the orc closed the elevator door and began to ascend again, leaving him alone before the extravagant entrance. Trill watched as the basket vanished into the tunnel's darkness. The immensity of the cavern beneath the ruins was impossible to gauge at a glance, and his only option was to move forward toward the door.
He took a few steps, but before he could knock, the door swung wide open by itself. Trill clenched his teeth, gripping his case tightly. He brushed aside the pink velvet drapes at the entrance and, with all the bravado of a self-assured hunter, shouted:"Thanks for the welcome! It's time you accepted your des… ti… ny…"
His voice trailed off instantly at the sight before him. In the middle of the room stood a young woman with silver hair so long it reached her waist, and eyes as red as blood. She wore only a nightgown, making it clear she wasn't expecting visitors.
Both froze. She, unable to react to the strange, flamboyant intruder who had barged into her room; and Trill, unprepared to deal with something far more dangerous than a vampire—an actual lady. He swallowed hard; women had never been his strong suit. Trying to dig himself out of the awkwardness, he blurted:"Why do they call a girl 'lord'?"
The young woman fell silent, her pale face turning the deepest crimson before she let out a powerful scream.
That was the last thing Trill saw before feeling the heavy blow to the back of his neck. An orc, who had approached silently from behind, had brought down our brave hunter.
It wasn't long before Trill regained consciousness. In a dark cell deep within the castle, he hung shackled by his arms, wearing barely enough clothing to cover himself. Dazed and aching, he woke to the crackling of candles whose flickering light shone directly into his face.
"When… did it… get to morning…?" he mumbled, slowly opening his eyes, irritated by the brightness.
As his vision returned, Trill made out a towering figure before him: an older man, elegantly dressed, with long silver hair tied into a neat ponytail, a large mustache, and perfectly groomed sideburns. His skin was pale, unwrinkled, but his bloodshot red eyes burned with a dangerous intensity. At his side stood two massive orcs, wearing only rough trousers and holding torture instruments studded with spikes and steel, waiting with unsettling patience.
The man snapped his fingers with elegance, and one of the orcs responded by dumping a bucket of icy water over Trill. The shock brought the hunter fully awake, coughing from the cold and struggling against his chains.
"Welcome to my mansion, young and inexperienced hunter," the man said in a deep, grave voice as he stepped forward. "Tell me—whose brilliant idea was it to enter my home, kill my gatherers, deceive my servants, and worst of all, defile with your presence the most precious treasure of this house?"
The man came right up to Trill, grabbing his chin roughly and forcing him to look him in the eye."No, not just the most precious treasure of this mansion, but of our entire race."
Still dazed but keeping his defiant attitude, Trill returned the stare with disgust."The most precious treasure? Bah… I've seen better. She's a bit flat, don't you think?"
The sarcastic reply sent the man into a rage, and he delivered a heavy slap that split Trill's lip. The chains rattled with the blow, but the hunter didn't make a sound as the man stepped back and the orcs began preparing what was clearly "their play area."
"I'm sorry I can't personally oversee this little 'game,'" the noble continued, pulling a fine pocket watch from his vest. "But I have important matters to attend to in the dining hall. I hope you enjoy your stay here, young fool. Perhaps that glimpse of paradise you had will help you endure the hell that awaits you."
"I stand by what I said: I've seen better," Trill replied with a cynical grin.
The noble gave him one last look, offered an elegant bow, and vanished into the shadows. One of the orcs wasted no time in cracking a whip across Trill's torso. The hunter endured the blow without making a sound—until the other orc interrupted.
"Damn it, brother! I forgot the lockpicks.""You always forget something, Gruk… But now that you mention it, I also forgot the oil. How about we go grab it? I don't think this idiot's going anywhere.""Oh yes, yes, go! You have no idea how much I'm enjoying this," Trill replied with pure sarcasm and a crooked smile."Wait until I come back with the oil, sweetheart," one of the orcs taunted before hurrying out with his brother.
Once alone, Trill began tugging at his chains again. This wasn't the first time he'd been shackled. Memories of the last time—when he'd been chained upside down—made him grateful that at least this time, his head wouldn't feel like it was exploding every other second.
With a cooler head, he assessed the situation. And, unsurprisingly, out of all the things they could have taken from him, they'd left the most important—Skipper. His useless right hand wasn't going to wake up and help him, but those rough, scale-like ridges numbing it would make an excellent improvised lockpick for the shackles.
"Damn hand… just when I need you…" he muttered through gritted teeth, receiving no response from the limb.
"Who are you talking to?" asked a soft, feminine voice that startled him.
Looking down, Trill saw the same silver-haired young woman from before. Now she was wearing an elegant red dress trimmed with black lace, completely out of place in such a grim setting.
"Uh… 'most precious treasure in the world,' don't you think this is the wrong place for someone like you?" Trill quipped bitterly.
The young woman sighed and pulled a leather flask from her side."I never imagined the first man to see me like this would be a filthy hunter… but," she stepped closer to him, "are you thirsty?"
"Like a starving camel," he answered with a tired smile.
"Drink. Don't worry, it's not poisoned."
She brought the flask to his lips and helped him drink. Trill drained it in seconds, and when he finished, she kept staring at him intently. Her red eyes traced every detail of his face—his white hair falling to his shoulders, his skin almost as pale as hers, and the defined lines of a body honed by years of training.
"You're a Nemir, aren't you?" she asked softly.
Trill looked away, uncomfortable, but didn't deny it. The young woman tightened her grip on the empty flask and continued:"So… this is the man who came to save me."
Confused, Trill frowned and swallowed before asking:"Save you? First of all, why are you helping me? I came here to hunt you all, you know. I know you're a vampire too, and I came for your kind."
"I know," she replied with a sweet smile.
"Then… why?"
"Because you don't seem like a bad man. There's something about you that… draws me in. I don't know what it is. Do you?"
"How the hell would I know?" Trill shot back gruffly.
At that moment, he managed to work the shackle open with the scale, dropping to the ground with a loud clang. The young woman watched him, running a hand through her hair as she said:"Besides, I can't let my husband die."
"What?" Trill asked, bewildered.
"Well, that's why everyone comes here, isn't it? To bet on my repulsive hand in marriage," she said, her face turning red with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
"I came for the head of the castle's master, nothing more," the hunter replied, rubbing his wrists.
The young woman said nothing right away, but before she could continue, a massive female orc dressed as a maid rushed into the cell.
"Miss, the brothers are coming back! We must leave, or the master will find out about this."
The young woman stepped closer to Trill, tying a silk scarf around his neck.
"What are you doing now?" he asked, confused.
When he looked up again, she was already walking away, wearing an enigmatic smile that pierced right through the perplexed hunter.
"You dropped this in my room, so I wanted to return it to you. Also, I couldn't read your name on it," she said, pointing to the strange silver cross hanging from Trill's neck.
He was stunned—no matter how small the cross was, it should have hurt her to touch it. The most precious treasure to the young man, Trill thought. It didn't surprise him that she couldn't read his name on it, since it was engraved with a woman's name. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the girl covering her hand with the silk scarf, likely to hide light burns.
With a smile that tried to hide his discomfort, he replied while keeping his sharp teeth hidden:"Yeah… thanks. My name's Trill."
"What do you think you're doing here?" —the deep voice of one of the orcs suddenly echoed.The two orcs had returned, carrying a couple of lockpicks and some bottles. The girl startled upon hearing them enter; quickly, Trill leapt onto the still-hanging chain, gripping it in his hands to pretend he was still bound. Before they could advance, a far more imposing figure appeared behind them: a huge orc, much larger than the other two, with a harsh yet clearly feminine voice.
"It's these two idiots' fault for leaving the door open. Hasn't the master told you a million times to close it when you're playing with a prisoner?" the orc scolded. Then, turning to the young woman, she added, "The young lady was so outraged she came running to give them a good thrashing and, at the same time, meet the intruder. Isn't that right, young lady?"
"Yes, that's right. I came because I can't believe you'd disobey my uncle in such a brazen manner," said the young woman, her voice deep and elegant.
"We're sorry, miss. Please, don't tell the master," the orcs apologized, bowing their heads.
"Those pitiful apologies won't save you from punishment. Therefore… I'll take this," the girl said, snatching the lockpicks and other instruments of torture from them. Then, as she passed the heavy objects to the large orc, she added with a sarcastic tone, "As punishment, I'm taking away your toys, naughty boys."
"But, miss! That's not fair, we were just—!" one of the orcs tried to protest, but the young woman shot him such a fierce glare that he fell silent immediately.
"Good. I hope this doesn't happen again," the girl concluded, leaving the room without another word.
The large orc, before leaving, bowed toward the room, leaving the two orcs alone with Trill. One of them, completely discouraged, slumped to the ground and began grumbling.
"It's not fair… we came all the way back to get them!" he growled.
"Brother, don't be discouraged. We still have this," said the other, proudly lifting the hunter's briefcase.
"Yes, I'm sure it's got lots of interesting toys we can play with."
"You're right, brother. You're always so clever…" the first replied, flashing a malicious grin.
Both orcs tried to open the briefcase, but it had no lock or latch in sight. Desperate, they began slamming it against the floor in the hope that it would magically pop open —but of course, that didn't happen. Trill, unable to contain himself any longer, burst out in loud laughter, drawing the orcs' attention as they turned toward him with scowls.
"What's so funny, ugly? Why are you laughing?" one of them growled.
"'Ugly.' Wow, you must have a lot of self-esteem coming from you," Trill replied with a mocking smile. "I'm laughing because it's hilarious how you're trying to open my case, as if it were so hard. Even a two-year-old with two functioning neurons could do it, and you—despite all the years you've been dragging around—haven't even come close. It's so funny I can't help myself."
Offended by his comment, one of the orcs lunged at him, delivering a hard punch to his stomach. However, Trill stopped pretending and slipped free, using the momentum of the blow to climb up the wall behind him without letting go of the chain that had bound him. With a swift movement, he wrapped it around his attacker's neck, leaving him trapped and barely conscious.
The second orc, furious, tried to hit him with the briefcase, but at that moment, Skipper awoke and began to move on its own. With a flash, it stopped the briefcase, then lit up with an intense light that blinded the attacker. With little effort, the large eye on the back of Trill's hand moved his body, delivering a powerful blow to the orc's abdomen, launching him against the wall opposite the cell entrance and leaving him completely incapacitated.
Trill took his briefcase with determination and brushed his hair back from his face. After surveying the scene with satisfaction, he concluded:"Well… one less problem. Now, to find my clothes."