The sun was setting over the horizon, casting a crimson glow over the ruins of the Coeur school. The smell of blood and ashes filled the air, along with the cries of the wounded and the dying. The vampires had attacked without warning, slaughtering the students and teachers who had no idea of the supernatural world that existed beyond their sight.
Only one man had stood against them, a lone hero who had arrived just in time to save a handful of survivors.
He carried the injured principal in his arms, who had tried to protect his students with his own life. He was bleeding from several attacks, and his breathing was shallow.
Away from him, a group of survivors, consisting of the remaining students and staff, compiled together minutes ago when the attack was stopped by the mysterious person wearing red. All of them were bleeding and wounded severely across their bodies and would've been more if not for the bandages that most of them had patched.
The instant they saw him get nearer, they quieted down and withdrew, unsure if he'd terrorize them just as the vampires did. A handful of them saw him finish off the invasion, and while thankful for him, can't help but be cautious of someone powerful like him nearby.
Their eyes are, however, drawn to the person on his arms, blooded and with broken bones, the principal in his vulnerable condition lay with fragile consciousness.
Shirou gave him to his apprentices who laid him down on a stretcher, where they proceeded to treat him. Shirou's eyes pass by the people as he silently counts.
"Stay with me, sir! You're going to make it," One of his students said, trying to sound reassuring.
The principal groaned in pain as he was bandaged up, "Chaldea... are you part of them?" He struggled to even look at him. Shirou nods.
"Thank you, son. Thank you for saving us," The principal said weakly.
"Don't thank me yet. We're not out of the danger. There will be another wave of those vampires coming. We have to get you and the others out of here as soon as possible," Shirou responded as he cautiously glanced at the ruins.
He looked around and saw the other survivors, mostly students, huddled together. Some of them were unconscious, others were wide awake shocked. They looked at him with fear and gratitude in their eyes. He let out a small grunt, knowing that he couldn't save them all.
Just then, he felt the presence of people in Astral Form approaching his location at a fast pace. Turning to where they were, motes of lights came, revealing a person.
Almost instantly, everyone felt a fleeting breeze over them, a gust of wind that came from the presence before them. The scent of trees and leaves trailed from the person, almost like the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy of the forest floor.
Someone who is both tender and resolute. The delicate balance between ferocity and grace.
A huntress came into sight, a curved bow on her hands as she stepped gracefully, light and delicate. She wore a teal and black dress in verdant green, with a golden emblem on her chest and front bodice. Long, armored, black gloves that extend past her elbows, adorned with teal trimmings matching her dress and black thigh-high stockings inside patterned boots attached from the yellow soles-shoes.
Her voluminous green-blonde hair was flowing down her back, long and unkempt. Her eyes were cold, sharp, forest green that glinted beastly. A pair of feline cat-like ears and a lion tail wiggled on her figure.
Her unique appearance made the crowd mutter with stupefaction and wonder as she near them. Everyone stared at her, but no one spoke out or even stood up as she neared them, the murmurs grew louder, more curious.
The Huntress had a powerful yet elegant air about her. Her graceful movements were elegant but controlled. Like the hunter, she walked with an air of grace and power but also of gentleness, giving off this feeling that it would be easy to give up control. This wasn't arrogance or strength. Rather, it seemed she gave off a sense of being able to do anything just by simply standing there.
"Shirou," The Huntress had an almost fond look in her eyes.
Glancing at the unresponsive bodies nearby, she approached him, "How many?" She asked quietly, concern evident in her voice.
This caught Shirou off guard, and he lowered his gaze, "Fifty-eight dead, sixty-two critically hurt. Twenty-nine have already succumbed to blood loss."
An average number, but even a small amount meant everything for the Red Servant.
There was nothing unusual to say. It happened often enough for everyone to know how dangerous it could be. Even the Magi had to be careful when they were dealing with vampires. But there was always that tiny nagging doubt, wondering what kind of trouble was this going to lead him to this time if it would end in disaster... but he pushed these thoughts away and refocused on the task at hand.
He hoped that Atalanta wouldn't question it too deeply. He doesn't want to go into details about how some of the school people died, so he went with a short version, "Some have already collapsed from lack of blood and the rest seem to be holding steady."
Atalanta closed her eyes in consolation, "I'm sorry, for they were innocent souls compelled into this senseless conflict. We shall ensure that those vampires shall receive the end through thy blades and mine arrows."
Jules and those who heard her flinched and bowed their head solemnly. But a few look at her in the confusion of her old-fashioned manners of speech.
She walked calmly towards where the students gathered and nodded politely, holding her bow. "Greetings. My name is Atalanta. I am here to aid thee in the effort of the evacuation." Her tone seemed neutral. But there is kindness hidden.
One of the young students raised her head, "We're grateful. Thank you." She averted her eyes once she looked hard at her animal features. Her mind was still in fright of the earlier occurrence and seeing something unnatural had not surprised her as much.
The students quickly bowed their heads and greeted her and Shirou in turn, "Thank you for saving us."
"Please, what can we do for you?" Another student asked, his brows knitted in confusion and worry. His face is pale along with the rest of his friends.
Shirou opened his mouth, but Atalanta turned toward him and smiled softly, "There are many injured who are unable to walk and who need help in transporting them. I request that thou assist in escorting them. There is a teleportation circle prepared outside for everyone to be transported to safety."
The students began to murmur among themselves. The ones that remained silent immediately complied with her orders, and within moments, the survivors began to walk and move slowly toward the exit of what remains of the Coeur School. Their footsteps were heavy and tired with fatigue. Most were injured and limping. A few stumbled and fell on their way, which caused some of the injured students to cry out in pain, their faces scrunched up with tears.
As they prepared to leave, the principal called out to Shirou. When all of them turned to face him, he smiled warmly, "You saved our lives today. I want you to know that we won't forget what you've done for us, nor will we forget your kindness." He paused, his eyes falling on Shirou, deep appreciation in his eyes.
Servants in Astral Form followed closely behind them, silently assessing the situation. Their eyes scanned the students and teachers, observing every face they glanced at until they reached the end.
Once they are out of sight and the magic circle transporting them. Once the teleportation spell ended, and the area became eerily silent, Shirou and Atalanta remained where they were.
It won't be long now, the last invasion of the vampires will be here any minute. This time, they do more than just send one of their own like Lucien; they've mobilized everyone from their clan to find and plunder the killer of their heir and prince.
"The one that Jeanne killed must been special for a prince just for his entire clan to rally together to avenge him," Shirou commented. "Surely, there should be other heirs the monarch produced in a clan? I'm not really familiar with the functions of united households."
"Thou art right, but it appears that their ruler was either the sole inheritor or else a childless one and adopted. Either way, he has an heir," Atalanta responded with an explanation. "In any case, Jeanne's actions had bound to cause great trouble. When the vampires attack, the rest of the clan will surely come in full force as well as their chiefs."
Shirou agreed. Their ruler, whether it be king or queen, must be livid. They must have thought that it was the school-inhabiting magi who had killed their son, when it was actually the woman he sought in power, Jeanne.
Atalanta answered. "Though, I know not of their significance to the matter, nor do I care for such trivial matters. I merely see them as my prey." As if to coincide with her words, her eyes narrow to slits, showing her feral nature once more as her eyes flashed fiercely, her expression menacing and predatory, "They shall die a suffering death. It matters not if they are cursed creatures of the night. Or if they are as powerful as demigods. Or if they are in numbers far exceeding us. They are all the same to me: prey that must be hunted."
"And we shall tear them apart."
She takes a step forward and reaches out towards the sky of the setting sun. An eerie, silver glow emits from her body.
The hunters of the Moon Goddess were born adventitious and had been trained since serendipitous recruits to be strong and ruthless. The huntress Atalanta, as well as many other Huntresses that fought for the Moon Goddess, had adapted to the harshness of the wilderness thousands of years ago. To prey as animals, they learned to blend, to track, and to strike mercilessly with deadly precision to those who crossed their path. They lived for the thrill of the hunt, the glory of the hunt, and the honor of serving their patroness.
They were born and trained by nature to become deadly. To be the daughters of the moon.
They were predators.
As the moon continued its slow ascend upward in the sky, the only sound that could be heard was the rustle of leaves in the forests nearby. Occasional snarls from the dark sounded.
Wolves of the wild moved silently toward the pair. Their paws and claws make no sound whatsoever. Their jaws were wide open, exposing razor-sharp canines and glowing white teeth. They stalked closer, as their bodies glowed faintly. The glow of the moon, silver.
France is not the domain of the Olympians. Their blessings should not have affected a foreign land that was already marked by the God of the Bible. But, Atalanta's influence as a Servant whose affinity is nature spread through the land a year ago. The wolves nearby scented the aura of the goddess of the hunt and heeded her conviction. The belief of her patroness and her hunt had converted them to lower-tier Magical Beasts of the Phantasmal Species.
She turned and started to stride across the clearing, her feet lightly stepping over the fallen debris and broken pieces that litter the path.
Shirou took one step after her before he shook his head lightly to clear his thoughts and glance up. He stood still for a moment before walking to catch up with her, hands ready to trace.
The sound of wings beats reached across their ears.
Lashing snarls and wild growls echoed in the night sky.
The light of the moon was blocked for a moment.
And again and again. The shadows grew in numbers, drifting from the sky like an unnatural flock of giant bats. Tens of thousands and counting.
An enormous cloud appeared over their heads. As if they were floating up against a black ceiling, with darkness surrounding them, they descended upon the ground.
Their forms silhouetted against the moonlit sky, gracefully descended upon the desolation like a shadowy avalanche. Their descent was an orchestrated ballet as if guided by a macabre symphony only they could hear. Each vampire, cloaked in darkness, bore an air of timeless elegance as they glided down, accompanied by the whisper of nocturnal winds and the flutter of their inky wings.
Their eyes, pools of crimson, gleamed with a hunger that transcended centuries.
Leading them, amidst the vast congregation of nocturnal entities, a select few emerged as the undoubted sovereigns of the assembly. Distinguished by an aura of regal darkness, they led their legion with an air of ancient authority.
Draped in royal cloaks that seemed to absorb the moonlight itself, these regal figures bore symbols of a lineage. Their crimson eyes, though mirroring the hunger of their kin, sparkled with an added intensity.
They orchestrated the descent, guiding their followers with a mastery that spoke of dominion over both the living and the undead. As they touched down upon the ruined grounds, the desolation seemed to bow before their presence, the very earth acknowledging their ancient supremacy.
A spectral hush enveloped the scene as they stood in a procession of dark elegance.
Stepping forward, their leading monarch, an aged man with the stature and bearing of royalty. He held the reigns of power in his hands as if to show to everyone his superiority of blood. His features were sharp and angular, and his hair fell in soft waves, flowing past his shoulders.
His eyes burned brightly, like the fires of Hell. His gaze was fierce yet cold, filled with pure fury and wrathful pride. His robes were embroidered in different jewels and metals so intricate and elaborate, that they shone under the starry night.
Then, his voice rang throughout the forest and reverberated throughout the trees, causing them to sway in unison from the impact of it.
His voice resonated with a deep resonance, his words carrying the weight of a command,
"Greetings, humans." A powerful wind swept the ground after his words. Shirou and Atalanta stiffened immediately. This man is very dangerous. His words were clear enough to be felt and heard even across such great distances. He continued, his icy tone contrasting sharply with his aged appearance.
"Your audacious intrusion into the ruins of this once-hallowed academy does not escape my attention. A congregation of mere mortals daring to stand before the sovereign of these vampiric realms is either an attestation to your courage or a lamentable display of ignorance." He spoke coldly as he stared at them.
"Pleasantries are a luxury I seldom indulge in, but let me grace you with my presence and cut to the chase. It has come to my knowledge that your endeavors align with the vermin who orchestrated the demise of my cherished progeny." His eyes narrowed slightly, the corners creasing in displeasure. "A reprehensible act, one that will not be overlooked or forgotten."
"Consider this a rare moment of magnanimity on my part - a monarch addressing those beneath his station. I demand, in no uncertain terms, the precise whereabouts of the wretched cur who dared spill the blood of my lineage. Your cooperation is not a request; it is an imperative, a concession you would do well not to withhold."
He laughed. His laughter was bitter and cruel, filled with a twisted kind of cruelty that bordered on insanity, making him seem to have lost his mind completely.
"Do not delude yourselves into thinking this encounter affords you any leverage. The legion that looms in the shadows behind me is a manifestation of my supremacy, a force fueled by centuries of unbridled pride and ruthlessness. Now, hunters, speak. Illuminate me with the knowledge I seek, or brace yourselves for the consequences of provoking the wrath of a monarch scorned."
The area was silent save for the rustle of the wind in the trees and the beating of hearts.
Bird songs and small noises of animal life faded away. It was as though every living being within earshot had stopped breathing. No animals stirred, making no noise, not even birdsong. Even the wind had stopped blowing.
Shirou felt a sweat drip from his head as he deadpanned at the so-called monarch. "W-what's with that imperious speech?"
The haughtiness and pompous radiating from that formal address made his eyebrows twitch. Are royal vampires always this arrogantly superior and disdainful when they greet strangers?
At least there's someone who understands this sort of behavior.
He glanced at Atalanta, expecting her to see her remained quiet. She was studying the monarch, carefully analyzing his stance, posture, and mannerisms while she waited for him to finish speaking. Her lips were pressed together tightly, and her brows furrowed in thought.
Yet, she looked unamused at the spectacle before them, her brow twitching ever so slightly. She too did not like this type of person.
Atalanta sighed before she replied, "I have never met an individual so entitled nor arrogant besides the gods in my entire existence." Her expression darkened. "In fact, I've never come across a single soul that has dared speak such unpleasant egoism before. You, vermins, dare to underestimate our powers when you're nothing more than a flock of mere conceited bats compared to our kind."
The moment those left her lips, Shirou couldn't describe the stunned faces of the legions in front of them. He could perceive the thought process of their minds; what kind of guts a mortal woman could possess to babble her mouth to insult their highest leader to a higher degree.
The monarch's face also sported shock before he raised an eyebrow as he coldly responded, "You are but mistaken. Humans are nothing but ants. Your kind are tiny and insignificant and you all are powerless in battle, which defines you as weak. And either are you, hunters. So, if you would cease speaking such impoliteness and respect the noble before you, you would be wise to do so now. If not," His hand spark malevolent energy slowly. He smiled cruelly, "-then you are destined to perish."
He shifted his position slightly while casually raising his arm. With a swift dismissal, a warping ball condensed from a destructive mana manifested and beamed to the hunters in a blink.
In a flash, Kanshou was revealed and dissipated the small spell. Shirou drew his other blade in front of Atalanta who readies her bow.
It seems they won't hold back. There's no other choice for them. They will deliver their vengeance and then wipe out the last bit of humanity left in France before they set off on their bloody revenge against the human race. Their only hope lies in defeating them quickly so that the world will never know what they truly are. Their goal was simple.
But first things first.
Atalanta stepped forward. She didn't bother stopping as her feet carried her forward without hesitation. A cold expression appeared as her lips curved downwards, "We'll kill them all without remorse!"
Her voice carried throughout the forest, the sound echoing across the vast expanse of the empty plains. In front of their enemies. The wolves respond with howls.
And then they attacked.
The legions of vampires respond without a word from their leaders. Fangs dripped with saliva and killing intent flooded the air.
It's wolves vs vampires.
Predators and Hunters.