18 Trochilidae
Perched atop the lone horse that seemed to survive from the aftermath of the village, Valaine and Victoria cloaked in black fabric, moved through the night.
Valaine's platinum hair, a stark contrast to the night, cascaded down her back. Their cloaks served as a necessary disguise. In this unfamiliar world, blending in was something they will need. Their unique appearances sticks out like a sore thumb.
Valaine, with her abilities, could easily summon a faster steed to hasten their journey. Yet, her keen instincts warned against drawing unnecessary attention. The locals, if they spotted a grotesque creature, might react with fear and hostility.
Considering her options, Valaine dismissed the notion of a skeletal horse, deeming it too creepy, likely to incite terror rather than awe. Then an amalgamation of a hammerhead shark and a horse, while intriguing in its bizarre nature, would undoubtedly draw horrified gasps.
Thus, with a silent sigh, Valaine chose caution over spectacle.
As they rode, Valaine's left hand clung to Victoria's left shoulder, her heels suspended in the air, swaying with in a rhythm. Riding was a skill Valaine had never acquired, her former corporate life hardly offered any opportunities.
She marveled at Victoria's effortless control over the steed, guiding it like she lived a life well-lived in the wilds.
"You are pretty good at this," Valaine complimented, her voice carrying the surprise of someone who had just discovered an unexpected talent.
"Thank you master!" Victoria glanced back at her master, a twinkle of pride in her eyes.
Before Valaine had turned her into a vampire, Victoria had been a mercenary, a wanderer of the wilds, accustomed to the nature. Foraging for sustenance and riding horses were skills as essential as breathing to her.
"Leave everything to me!" Victoria said, her tone cheerful and confident. With a thumbs up, she assured Valaine of her competence, her loyalty shining like a beacon in the moonlit night.
Valaine nodded, a semblance of a smile tugging at her lips.
Valaine relished the rare sensation of dependency, a vulnerability that might be seen as weakness by some but, to her, it is a cherished bond of companionship. In Victoria, she had found not just a servant, but a confidante of sorts.
She could feel Victoria's tension, a subtle shift in the air that hinted at the presence of something. Intrigued, Valaine raised an inquisitive eyebrow, her gaze fixed on her.
As the horse's rhythmic steps continued to carry them forward, Victoria suddenly brought the horse to a halt. Valaine's inquisitive gaze met her Victoria's, her lips poised to question the reason for the unexpected pause.
"Why have we stopped?" Valaine inquired.
Victoria opened her mouth to respond, but before she could utter a word, Valaine's acute senses sprang into action.
Like a puzzle coming together, the pieces fell into place within her mind. The faint scent of burnt wood from torches wafted on her nose, a telltale sign that they were nearing another settlement. Valaine's keen nose estimated the distance, approximately 450 meters, give or take a few steps.
Yet, a sound reached her ears. The sharp, metallic clanging of swords colliding in combat. It was a battle was occurring.
In the blink of an eye, Valaine processed the information.
There was conflict nearby, a struggle for survival or power, perhaps. Her curiosity piqued, she issued a command to Victoria, her voice edged with caution and interest.
"Continue," Valaine instructed, her tone low. "But tread carefully."
Victoria nodded, her eyes reflecting the trust she had in her master's instincts. With a gentle squeeze of her heels against the horse's sides, she urged the steed forward.
They moved cautiously. And so, they ventured forth.
They found themselves on a clearing, perched atop the high ground of a hill. There, hidden by the shadows and the natural camouflage of the night.
Below them, a pillage was unfolding.
"Raiders" Victoria sneered, her disdain clear in her sharp gaze.
Valaine's eyes narrowed as she studied the marauders, recognizing the rough features and fierce demeanor reminiscent of the Vikings from the pages of history.
A spark of realization flickered in Valaine's mind.
Vikings, she recalled, had faded into history around the 1300s, yet here she stood amidst their brutal pillage. A glance around at the environment, the crude weaponry, and the rustic clothing worn by the villagers only deepened her conviction.
It seemed she had been transported back in time, perhaps to the 11th or 12th century.
But this revelation clashed with the encounter she had had just hours ago, a confrontation with the cultists that wielded magic. The presence of magic in this historical setting perplexed her.
Was this a version of Earth, albeit a magical one?
Her musings were abruptly shattered by the gut-wrenching scream.
Villagers, men, women, and children alike, were being subjected to unspeakable horrors. The raiders showed no mercy, pillaging and murdering, enslaving the defenseless in their wake.
A moral dilemma gripped Valaine. Should she intervene?
The rational part of her, the remnants of her human conscience, screamed for her to act, to save the innocent lives at stake. Yet, her vampiric instincts whispered caution.
To reveal themselves meant risking exposure, and in this strange world, the consequences were unknowable.
Caught in this agonizing decision, Valaine stood frozen, her eyes locked on the brutal tableau below, her heart torn between the desire to protect and the necessity of survival.
Valaine's mind churned with conflicting thoughts.
But a tantalizing opportunity presented itself, a chance to test the limits of her abilities, to explore her strength. Questions gnawed at her conscience. Without the confines of the game, is there no limit to her power? What consequences might arise?
The prospect of exploring her abilities without the constraints of the pre-programmed physics in the game intrigued her.
In a decisive moment, Valaine's resolve solidified.
She turned to Victoria, her voice firm. "Stay back and guard the horse," she commanded.
There was a silent understanding between them, a trust that Victoria would remain vigilant.
With purposeful steps, Valaine approached the clearing, her movements surprisingly graceful despite the incompatibility of her heels on the dirt floor.
It was as though her body, knew how to adapt, how to balance effortlessly on the uneven terrain.
The burning village came into view, the flames flickering and dancing in the night. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke. Valaine's crimson eyes narrowed, her resolve hardening as she advanced toward the heart of the chaos, her intent clear.
Her gaze fell upon a lone Viking desecrating the body of a girl.
Without a flicker of hesitation, her right hand clenched into a choking gesture, invisible fingers closing around the marauder's throat.
In an instant, before the Viking comprehended his impending demise, his neck exploded. It was a grim confirmation that her telekinetic abilities worked like it was in the game.
Valaine's eyes briefly flickered to the lifeless girl, a fleeting moment of sorrow. The girl was already beyond saving, a casualty of the merciless raid. With a steely resolve, Valaine moved forward, her purpose undeterred by the grim scene.
The further she advanced, the fewer the screams became, the village now quieting under the shroud of death.
Yet, ahead, four more Vikings loomed, their brutish forms a stark contrast to Valaine's appearance.
With a mere flick of her fingers, she whispered. "Enma" Valaine unleashed a purifying fire from hell, a potent invocation of the 9th level.
White flames, swift as lightning, engulfed the Vikings in a blinding infernal tornado. The spell exceeded its mark, obliterating not just the intended targets but also scorching the surrounding area and houses, leaving nothing but a smoldering crater in its wake.
The destruction was absolute, erasing any trace of the marauders, their existence reduced to ashes carried away by the night wind.
In the aftermath, Valaine felt nothing, no remorse, no guilt. The pillagers deserved it.
Valaine's control over the shadows rippled through the night air.
In a hushed whisper, she uttered the words, "Summon Household."
From the inky depths of her shadow, a creature jumps, a colossal black great wolf, its eyes gleaming with feral intelligence. The beast stood tall, towering over Valaine, its size rivaling that of the village houses in this era.
With a simple mental command, the wolf surged forward.
Its massive form tore through the village, a relentless embodiment of fury and vengeance. Raiders, caught in the path of the beast, met their end swiftly and mercilessly.
Bones crunched, and blood splattered as the wolf carried out Valaine's bidding, leaving behind a trail of destruction and carnage.
A burly Viking with wild, unkempt hair and a scarred face, stumbled upon the black great wolf. His eyes widened in terror as he beheld the monstrous creature, its fur as dark as the abyss and eyes ablaze with an unsettling intelligence.
He fumbled for his axe, his grip tightening around the hilt, his voice quivering as he addressed his comrades.
"By the gods, look at the size of that beast!" he exclaimed fearfully. "Have we angered some ancient spirit?"
His fellow raiders, equally astonished, paused in their pillaging, their eyes widening as they saw the colossal wolf tearing through their ranks. Some began to retreat, their bravado evaporating in the face of such supernatural terror.
But the scarred Viking, his resolve stronger than his comrades, gripped his sword with newfound determination. "No spirit will stand in our way! We are Vikings, fearless warriors of the north!"
He shouted, rallying his companions. "Bring it down! We'll feast on its flesh tonight!"
With shouts of defiance, the raiders regrouped, their weapons raised, ready to confront it.
The raiders charged forward, their blades glinting in the dim light of the burning village. However, their weapons proved useless against the shadowy behemoth.
The colossal black wolf moved with uncanny speed and grace, its form a blur as it deftly evaded their strikes. Each swing of their swords met nothing but air, and the wolf retaliated with savage precision.
In a swift movement, the wolf lunged, its massive jaws closing around the arm of one of the raiders. A scream pierced the night as the raider's sword fell from his fingers, clattering on the ground below.
The others hesitated for a moment, their courage shattered by the gruesome sight before them.
With another predatory strike, the wolf incapacitated another raider, its jaws closing around the man's torso. He fell to the ground, howling in agony as his comrades looked on in horror.
The remaining raiders attempted to retreat, but the wolf was relentless. It pursued them with a relentless determination.
One by one, the raiders fell, their cries drowned out by the chaos of battle. They were reduced to helpless victims. The wolf's fur was stained with blood, its eyes cold and unyielding as it stood amidst the carnage.
In the aftermath, silence descended upon the village, broken only by the crackling of the flames and the distant cries of survivors.
The pillagers lay defeated, their bodies scattered like discarded puppets.
Valaine observed the whole thing. The wolf, her summon, returned to her side, its form dissipating back into the depths of her shadow. The night was silent once more, save for the sound of distant flickering flames that consumed the village.
Valaine found herself immersed in introspection. The medieval age, she realized, was a realm of unparalleled brutality.
The visceral violence she had witnessed, underscored the unforgiving nature of this historical epoch.
Yet, amid the bloodshed, Valaine had also discovered a paradox that unsettled her to the core.
Her abilities, seemed to operate seamlessly in this world. Yet she feels the absence of mana itself. The magic energy source she had known, raised questions.
It felt like shouting words and then poof, it appeared.
How could magic exist without the essence of mana? Was there an alternate magical system in this reality? One that does not require mana?
The uncertainty gnawed at her, leaving a lingering sense of unease. It was a puzzle she will unravel.
The night was now eerily quiet, devoid of any human heartbeat except for the steady rhythm of their horse.
It seemed that there were no survivors left in the wake of the Viking raid, leaving Valaine with the task of village hopping once more.
Just as she was about to call for Victoria, but her loyal companion appeared by her side, leading the horse as if on cue.
Valaine raised an eyebrow at the convenient timing, she's too reliable. She likes it.
Suddenly, a faint cry pierced the air, a fragile echo that resonated from the depths of the night.
It was the unmistakable sound of a baby's wail. The cry hung in the air, drawing Valaine and Victoria's attention like a moth to a flame.
Curiosity piqued, they followed the sound, which led them to a well.
The baby's cries grew louder as they approached, echoing from the depths below. Valaine's keen vampire senses heightened, yet oddly, she hadn't heard the baby's heartbeat until this moment.
She pondered whether the infant's heartbeat was simply too quiet for her supernatural senses or if there was something more mysterious at play.
With a glance exchanged between Valaine and Victoria, they approached the well cautiously, their eyes scanning the surroundings for any potential threats. Valaine's hand hovered above the well, her fingers brushing against the cool stone.
The cries of the baby intensified, tugging at her undead heartstrings, filling the night with a sense of urgency and purpose.
Valaine and Victoria shared a moment of uncertainty as they gazed into the darkness of the well. The cries of the unseen baby echoed, pulling at their undead hearts.
Victoria's voice broke the silence. "Uh… what do we do, master?"
Leaving a defenseless baby behind was an act Valaine couldn't justify.
Valaine considered their options, her mind racing.
The infant's cries grew louder. With a decisive nod, Valaine instructed Victoria to raise the well, to uncover the source of the cries.
"Raise the well," Valaine commanded.
With a swift nod, Victoria set her focus on the mechanism, her hands moving deftly. The well creaked and groaned as it ascended, revealing a sight that left both Valaine and Victoria stunned.
A bundle swathed in cloth emerged, cradled in a bucket.
A male baby, black hair, blue eyes, no more than 4 months old lay within. Valaine and Victoria exchanged a wordless glance, an unexpected burden that fate had thrust upon them.
For the first time, Valaine found herself faced with a dilemma. The baby's cries echoed in the night, The two vampires, uncertain of what the future held, knew that they could not abandon this innocent life.
Valaine's arms reached down carefully, holding the baby within one hand. She was cautious, mindful of her sharp nails that could easily cut the fragile flesh of the infant.
The little one let out a whimper of pain, a sound that pulled at Valaine's undead heartstrings.
Victoria, observed her mistress with a concerned expression.
"That's not how you hold a baby, Master!" she chided.
Realization dawned on Valaine, and she quickly adjusted her grip, holding the infant securely under his armpits.
Victoria breathed a sigh, her eyes conveying a mix of reassurance and approval. She gestured subtly, guiding Valaine on the proper way to support the child, ensuring both safety and comfort.
With a nod of understanding, Valaine mirrored Victoria's stance, her arms cradling the baby as she had been shown.
The little one nestled against her, his cries gradually subsiding. Valaine looked down at the tiny face, her crimson eyes meeting the innocent gaze of the child.
"What now?" Valaine thought, a question that echoed not just in her mind but also in Victoria's eyes. They stood there, in the eerie silence of the night.
Valaine couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the sudden responsibility that had been thrust upon her. Taking care of a child required unwavering attention and care, a 24/7 commitment that she wasn't sure she was prepared for.
In truth, she struggled to take care of herself, let alone an infant.
As the baby's cries continued, Valaine's doubts deepened.
She felt ill-equipped to shoulder the responsibility of nurturing a fragile life.
The cries persisted, and Valaine's vestige of her humanity, kicked in.
She wondered if the child was hungry, she does not lactate, and baby formula was an alien concept in this world. Desperation led her to consider alternative options.
Perhaps animal milk could suffice?
She opened a void and floated a bottle filled with feathered-dragon milk. A rare consumable known for its physical enhancement buffs. Despite her uncertainty about its suitability, Valaine decided it was the best she could offer right now.
Doubt gnawed at her, but she couldn't ignore the immediate need. Floating spheres of milk descended toward the baby, who reached out and grasped one, taking a tentative sip.
The baby's cries gradually subsided as it drank the milk.
Valaine gazed down at the baby, whose cries had finally dulled into soft whimpers as it greedily sipped the offered milk.
"What are we going to do with it?" Valaine asked. She wanted to know Victoria thoughts on this matter.
Victoria met Valaine's gaze, her expression a one of concern. "We can't leave it here alone, Master. It won't survive."
True. If they left the infant earlier it might drown from the well or starve to death.
"Where's the nearest village?" she said, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.
"The next village is days away, master," Victoria informed her, her gaze steady .
Valaine sighed, her eyes never leaving the infant in her arms.
Perhaps in the next village she hopped to, she would have to make a choice to leave the infant on someone else's doorstep, to entrust its care to those more capable than herself.
"We'll keep an eye on the infant. And once we reach the next village, we drop it off to the nearest doorstep."
