Chapter L

  They are lost in the depths of darkness. The only sound Jerome can hear is the breathing of his companions. The mule, which should be close by, remains completely silent, almost as if the creature isn’t there at all.

  The air, on the other hand, is so thick with dust that he feels as if he’s chewing on dirt. For a few moments, this is his main concern—until he realizes they have no way of knowing what happened to Nero.

  Without the mage, returning to the surface could become incredibly dangerous. Since they have no way of knowing how many vampires are left. Or, even more concerning, where they might be. The only certainty is that the three of them are lost in these mines, in utter darkness.

  “We need light,” Jerome says, hoping one of the others might have an idea.

  “Yes, yes. I’m such a fool.” He hears Seres say, somewhere just behind him.

  “The Last Light of Magic,” Seres says, but nothing happens. Only then Jerome remembers. The young blond is also a mage—one who can create light. Although, right now, he’s failed to do so.

  “The Last Light of Magic,” Seres repeats, with the exact same result. This starts to worry Jerome slightly, wondering if something might be blocking the young man from casting his spell. He turns toward Seres’s voice.

  “Alright, a little embarrassing… this doesn’t usually happen. The Last Light of Magic.” Seres tries again. This time a ball of white light appears in the midst of the darkness. Unfortunately, it leaves Jerome temporarily blinded, as he was looking right in the direction where the light suddenly appeared.

  In this condition, he hears someone coughing behind him. Turning, while straining to see the source of the noise, unsure of what’s going on. He goes his knife.

  Finally, he sees a figure walking toward them. For a moment, he doesn’t recognize it—not because of the lingering blindness this time, but rather because Nero is entirely covered in dust. To his great relief, it really is Nero approaching them.

  Jerome pauses, watching Nero walk and cough, surprised by his own feelings. If someone had told him a few hours ago that he’d feel so relieved to see this insufferable mage, he would never have believed it, especially after what happened with Mercy.

  But the reality is that Jerome now has no doubt that their survival depends on the mage.

  Nero reaches them, still coughing. “Dirt,” he comments, spitting on the ground. “Blondie, you took your sweet time turning on the lights.”

  Seres, the one he’s addressing, looks clearly embarrassed before admitting, “Well, the spell wasn’t working.”

  “The spell wasn’t working? Right. You haven’t been practicing, have you?” Nero asks, after another cough.

  While Nero shakes his head to free it from the dirt in his hair, Seres looks even more embarrassed as he hesitantly says, “Well… you know I prefer to save my magic for other spells.”

  “Man, I’ve told you to practice whatever you can. But alright, now’s not the time. Let’s move,” Nero orders, beginning to walk, while still shaking the dirt from his dust-covered clothes.

  Watching this, Jerome remembers how he had found it strange that their group leader would dress like that. But now he thinks he understands a bit better. The destructive potential of Nero’s spells could very well lead to his clothes being destroyed. Perhaps the mage had decided to wear simpler clothes for precisely this reason.

  “Hey!” Sab excims beside him. “What on earth happened back there?”

  It’s a question Jerome shares, and he steps forward as well. “Why did you have to cast your fireball spell twice?”

  Nero coughs again before responding. “I think it’s pretty clear what happened. As for the fireball…” He pauses for another coughing fit. He then resumes walking before speaking again.

  “Those bastards are fast. Sadly, only one of them was foolish enough to come at me. But it was enough to force me to cast the spell.” He stops talking again to cough.

  “I’m sure I got that one. But the other two started to run away, so I cast a second fireball. Unfortunately, I’m not certain I hit them.”

  “They escaped one of your fireballs?” Sab asks, his voice filled with shock—a feeling Jerome shares completely. And judging by the way Seres’s mouth hangs open, he’s also stunned.

  “It’s possible,” Nero says with a shrug. “I don’t know. The tunnel colpsed after that. But, it’s possible they ran fast enough to find some cover on another tunnel. And at least avoid being completely destroyed.”

  The idea is terrifying—that something could be fast enough to evade the effects of a fireball like Nero’s. It shows just how dangerous they might be.

  “What do we do now?” Seres asks.

  “We stick to the pn. Let’s get out of here and back to the surface.” Nero reaffirms the idea he had presented before the vampires showed up.

  “But what do we do if we encounter more vampires? After all, your fireballs could cause more colpses.” Seres crifies, raising a crucial concern. Not that potential colpses worry Jerome too much; he doubts they’d survive being hit by one of those fireballs at close range. And, looking at Sab, it seems he agrees with his concern.

  “I'm counting on the mule to handle them.” Nero’s strange reply leaves Jerome staring at the peculiar creature, which remains calm despite all that’s happened. How is this animal not bolting away? And what could Nero possibly expect a mule to do against vampires?

  “Alone?” Seres asks, showing no sign of doubt in Nero's confidence in the animal. Before he can question this, Nero turns back toward them, to speak again, amusement in his voice, “What? You pnning on helping it?”

  The pause between them is brief, as Nero’s eyes gleam with an intriguing look, and he adds, “You know, that might not be a bad idea.”

  Jerome exchanges gnces with Seres and Sab, all of them wondering what the mage could possibly mean. How could they fight against vampires? Jerome knows that in the end, they’ll do whatever they can to defend themselves, but could they even stand a chance?

  “Give me your weapons!” Nero demands, extending his hands to them.

  Without thinking, Jerome hands over the knife he hadn’t yet put away. Sab, on the other hand, hesitates, not wanting to part with what would be his only line of defense.

  “Look, do you really think I’d need to disarm you if I wanted to attack you?” Nero asks calmly. The silence following the question is broken only by another cough from Nero. It’s this cough, though, that finally convinces Sab to hand over his hunting knife.

  Nero grips the knives firmly, closes his eyes, and whispers, “The Will of the Fme.”

  As soon as the words leave his mouth, fmes appear out of nowhere, igniting along the bdes. This confirms that Nero is, indeed, a powerful pyromancer.

  “If I’m not mistaken, vampires are especially vulnerable to fire,” the mage says as he carefully returns the weapons to them. As they take back their newly enchanted weapons, he shrugs and adds, “If not, at least they’ll help light our way.”

  Jerome feels an almost childish thrill as he stares at the blue fmes dancing along his knife. He’d never imagined he’d possess anything like this in his life. But he doesn’t let Nero fool him; if the power of Nero’s fireballs isn’t enough to handle the vampires. Then these smaller fmes will likely be just as ineffective.

  Still, he feels a little better prepared for what’s ahead. And seeing Sab’s eyes gleaming as he looks at his prized knife, Jerome knows he’s not the only one.

  “And you?” Nero’s voice interrupts Jerome’s thoughts. Looking at the mage, he sees him extending a hand toward Seres.

  “Me, what?” Seres asks, looking confused and curious.

  “Your weapon?” Nero repeats, holding out his hand again to Seres.

  “What weapon? I didn’t bring one,” Seres replies, genuinely surprised, while Nero’s eyes widen.

  “You came here, knowing we’d face a vampire, without a weapon?” Nero says, clearly shocked. “What on earth were you thinking?”

  “You’re here. Why would I need a weapon?” The complete naivety with which Seres says this leaves no doubt of his sincerity. After witnessing Nero’s abilities, Jerome can somewhat understand Seres’s perspective. After all, Mercy hadn’t posed even the slightest threat to the mage. And even those three vampires would’ve easily been destroyed if Nero had had a clear shot.

  Even so, Nero is left speechless by this answer. For a moment, he seems ready to say something, but to Jerome’s surprise, he simply shakes his head, turns away, and resumes walking.

  As they approach a new corner, Nero mutters, “I knew I should’ve brought the other one.”

  Just as Nero rounds the corner and disappears from Jerome’s sight, they hear a noise and then see Nero’s body suddenly reappear, crashing against the opposite wall.

  A shadow appears where Nero had been moments before he turned the corner. With only the light from their knives, Jerome can see a gaunt, pale man approaching them, his mouth open to reveal a set of sharp canines.

  Without hesitation, the vampire prepares to lunge at them. But he disappears as Nero rises and throws himself at the creature. Jerome can hear the two of them grappling further down the tunnel.

  “Let’s go,” Sab says to Jerome, and they begin moving forward to help the mage. After all, who’s ever heard of a mage fighting hand-to-hand? And if Nero loses this battle, they’ll be in big trouble.

  Just then, a woman, also gaunt and pale, appears in front of them. For a moment, Jerome barely recognizes her as a woman. She, too, is about to attack, but Nero’s mule steps in front of her.

  “Out of the way, beast!” the woman yells, baring her fangs.

  Unfortunately for her, the animal doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by the vampire. And when she tries to get around it, the mule lunges at her, even head-butting her, leaving her momentarily stunned.

  Jerome seizes the opportunity to strike. They have to get past these vampires, to get out of here. He brandishes his fme-covered knife, but it’s difficult to nd a hit, as the mule stands between them and the incredibly fast vampire.

  Sab joins him in the fight, but hitting her remains a challenge, leading to a strange struggle in which they’re trying to bypass the mule that’s somehow defending them.

  Finally, Sab gets lucky and nds a cut on her, eliciting a scream of pain—something the mule’s head-butt hadn’t managed. The vampire recoils from the wound, looking almost panicked as she stares at it.

  With her retreat, they’re able to move forward and round the corner. Where they can still hear Nero and the vampire scuffling on the ground. Realizing it’s hard to see with just the knives, Jerome turns to Seres. “We need light!”

  Immediately, the young blond shouts, “The Last Light of Magic.” This time, the orb of light appears at once, illuminating the extent of the tunnel. The vampire woman, rather than helping her companion in his fight with Nero, continues to back away, having passed them completely. She seems utterly shocked by the wound she received from Sab’s knife.

  This brings a smile to Jerome’s face, as it confirms Nero was right about the usefulness of his spell on their bdes.

  “They don’t know how to fight,” Jerome hears Sab say. Following his gaze, Jerome watches the fight on the ground. The vampire keeps trying to bite Nero, while the mage struggles to nd punches.

  And Jerome has to agree with Sab. Nero is awkwardly throwing punches with no real force, rather than trying to grab and control the vampire. The vampire, on the other hand, seems fixated only on biting.

  With Nero, Jerome isn’t exactly surprised; to be such a powerful mage at a young age. He must have spent most of his life studying magic, likely with no experience in actual combat.

  Most striking is that the vampire, fighting an opponent who is invulnerable to his bites, seems at a loss of what else to do.

  Watching the almost comical scene, Jerome understands the vampires’ strategy. They pnned to attack from the front and rear, using their speed. To attack and then retreat. It would’ve worked, the panic in the darkness would guarantee it—if not for Nero.

  Just then, Nero manages to kick the vampire away.

  “Meton, let’s go. We should get help,” the vampire woman calls to her companion.

  And with that, they start to flee. For a moment, Jerome can hardly believe his eyes—the vampires, whom he had been almost terrified of, are in retreat.

  Nero stands and shouts, “Find cover!”

  Jerome stares at Nero, then realizes the mage’s pn: he’s going to incinerate them. And if they stay in the tunnel, they risk being burned as well.

  So, Jerome, Sab, and Seres dash into the adjoining tunnel, finding some shelter from the spell’s fire. As Jerome rounds the corner, he hears Nero’s behind him, “Fmes of Draco.”

  Soon after, Jerome feels again the intense heat of the spell’s bst behind him. They stop, gncing at each other, realizing the battle has ended. There’s no way those two vampires could have survived that. Not long after, Nero reappears, motioning for them to return, and they comply immediately.

  “Let’s go,” Nero gestures for them to continue. “Blondie, keep our path lit.”

  For a moment, Jerome is caught off guard, feeling triumphant and almost invincible after defeating the vampires. They’d all helped in the fight; it wasn’t just Nero’s power alone. But as Nero speaks with Seres, Jerome notices something amiss. “Nero, your hand.”

  As Nero raises his indicated hand, they can all see it—blood glistening in the light from Seres’s spell. The mage, usually so invulnerable, is bleeding.

  “Well, seems the bastard did manage to hurt me,” Nero says with frustration, inspecting his hand. Jerome feels a surge of concern. The fight had been more intense than they realized. If they’d lost Nero, their survival would be hard.

  Seeing their worried expressions, Nero turns away resuming his pace. “The spell protecting me ended, letting him nd a lucky strike. But I recast it as soon as I felt pain in my hand. So his luck ended.” he says, his voice calm.

  “We’ve got potions,” Sab interjects in his straightforward manner. “I mean, the mule’s carrying potions for healing as part of its load. You should use one.”

  Sab’s reminder was important; they’d stocked potions for Mercy’s group, which the mule was now carrying. Nero pauses and gnces seriously at the mule.

  “Sab’s right. Right now, the best use for those potions is keeping us in shape to make it out of here. Take one,” Jerome agrees, seeing Nero’s strange hesitation.

  Nero ponders for a moment longer, before reaching out his uninjured hand to accept a potion.

  “Are you sure?” asks a visibly concerned Seres, and Nero gives him a nod. Seres goes to retrieve one of the potions, while Jerome and Sab are left bewildered at Nero and Seres’s hesitance.

  Nero considers their expressions, to then speak again, “I had a recent fight where I had to use a lot of potions. Only a day or two ago did I fully recover from the toxicity.”

  This is all difficult for Jerome to grasp. What kind of battle would push someone like Nero to need so many healing potions? Seeing the mage’s power, the idea of him being in such a situation seems almost absurd.

  But looking at Nero’s bloodied hand, Jerome realizes just how important luck is in battle. Only minutes earlier, their battle could have ended very differently.

  Seres approaches, handing Nero the potion, saying, “Wouldn’t it be better to…”

  But Nero interrupts, shaking his head. “Better to conserve my magic, for now.”

  Another exchange Jerome and Sab don’t fully understand. But the mage’s caution makes sense, preserving his strength for whatever else they might face. Gncing at Sab, Jerome sees he’s equally unsettled by what they’ve just heard.

  “Maybe I should take a potion too,” Sab begins, trying to ease the tension, smiling a bit. “Feeling a bit worn out.” Now that Sab mentions it, Jerome realizes he’s also starting to feel tired, each breath growing heavier.

  Hearing this, Nero looks at them with a serious expression. To then gnce around. Seeing the dying fires his spell had caused in the wood around. He begins muttering, “Well, perfect. Just perfect.”

  Jerome doesn’t understand what’s gotten into the mage, but Nero turns on his heel, quickening his pace. “The damn fire’s been burning up the oxygen. That’s why you’re tired.”

  “Oxygen?” Jerome repeats, unsure of the term. He looks to the others for an expnation, but they seem equally puzzled. It must be some kind of magic.

  Without turning back, Nero answers, “Doesn’t matter. It just means we need to move faster, You guys should feel better in the next tunnel. The further from the fire, the better.” Jerome takes his word for it; it must be beyond a non-mage’s understanding. Even Seres seems just as lost.

  “If anyone faints, start to drag them out,” Nero instructs, his command seemingly directed at the mule, who follows behind them. At this time Jerome doesn't even care anymore, about Nero and his mule.

  They continue their trek out of the mines, and, as Nero had said. Jerome feels his breathing easing with each step.

  At a crossroads, Nero hesitates over which direction to take until Sab steps up, pointing. “That way.”

  Seres lights the tunnel with his magic, and they proceed. Fortunately, no more vampires appear, and they press on undisturbed.

  “It’s the tunnel with the strange beams,” Nero suddenly excims.

  “What?” Jerome and Sab ask in near unison. They’ve come to accept that Nero is a bit strange, but this comment is odd even for him.

  “Well, ever since we entered these mines, I’ve been studying the beams,” he expins. “You know, to make sure they wouldn’t colpse and bury us all alive when…” He chose to fight Mercy. Are the words he meant to say. But Jerome decides not to think in that.

  Focusing instead on the unpleasant thought of a tunnel colpse. But so far, the beams have withstood two of Nero’s spells, so it’s not particurly concerning—just an interesting bit of information.

  “So when we passed through here, I noticed these beams are unusual,” he continues, pointing to one side of the tunnel.

  This prompts Jerome, followed closely by Sab, to come closer. Even Seres starts examining the wooden beams supporting the mine.

  It doesn’t take long for Jerome to notice what Nero is talking about. The beams seem to have two colors—one side darker than the other.

  “They’ve been moved here from another part of the mine,” Sab excims. Jerome understands what he means: one side of the beam pressed against the wall would be a different color than the side exposed to air. If someone had taken this beam and pced it sideways here, it would look just like that.

  “But…why…” Jerome begins to ask, and as he speaks, the answer hits him: it’s a trap.

  As he realizes this, the ground beneath his feet shifts. The entire side of the tunnel they’d been examining disappears, and they’re dragged into the darkness.

  As they fall, Jerome can hear himself and the others screaming, but he can’t see them—not even the faint glow of his dagger provides enough light to make out his surroundings.

  When he feels the solid ground beneath him again, he wastes no time getting to his feet, readying himself for whatever comes next.

  “Are you okay? Is everyone okay?” Jerome shouts around him, hoping to hear the others so they can regroup.

  “Jerome,” Sab’s voice calls out, and looking in his friend’s voice direction, Jerome sees the faint glow of another dagger. Relief and joy fill his heart. Both of them made it, and they’re armed, ready for whatever’s coming.

  But just then, the blue fme on his dagger extinguishes, plunging him into a darkness as deep as the despair that overtakes him.

  Thankfully, the darkness is brief, as a new voice rings out, one that seems to banish the fear, the despair, and the shadows all at once.

  “The st light of magic!” Seres shouts, and light appears once more.

  They can see again. The tunnel had colpsed, leaving them in an enormous cavern. Only a steep, dirt ramp remains, too steep for them to climb. At the top of it, two new figures appear.

  “It's really a mage! So that’s why you’ve been such a nuisance. But now, it’s over,” decres a malevolent voice from above.

  Looking around, Jerome understands what he means. Bodies surround them, easily dozens—this was a trap where they’d ensnared so many. Some of the remains are just bones while others have turned into mummies, suggesting this has been happening for years.

  How are they going to escape this? As despair begins to take hold of him once again, another voice rises. Strangely, his voice sounds cheerful. Jerome turns toward Nero. Who’s seated on the ground next to his mule and two skeletons.

  “Finally! Something’s working in my favor!”