My Vampire Little Sister
80 Jerome Warclaw (1)
Contrary to Jin's speculations, Ysabelle was currently on a mission. Right after the group had made their presence known in the Blackburn Estate, yet another code red was called, and Ysabelle had to rush to the battlefield with little time to prepare. It was likely the fifth time this month that she'd been abruptly called out, and despite her fatigue, the girl still answered the call.
It was the duty of someone from the direct bloodline of the Blackburn House to maintain order and lead the masses in times of crisis. And even though Ysabelle wasn't in line for the throne, her obligation to the Vampire Clan was there.
Such was the Noblesse Oblige of those who were privileged.
"How are they faring?"
While seated on the helicopter that rushed through the narrow and impassable canyon, Ysabelle turned to her subordinate, who was reading information from a touch screen. Like most military operations, an intelligence headquarters relayed information to all the agents on the ground.
From the location, their heart rates, the communications on the ground… Everything was being processed by the headquarters and fed back to Ysabelle and her team. Ysabelle peered curiously at the screen, seeing images of numerous agents and their locations on the digital map. Unfortunately, there were a few agents with crosses above their pictures, which signalled the situation was dire.
"Barely holding up," her subordinate replied in a flurry. "We are still five minutes away! I don't think that they can last that long!"
"No matter, send their coordinates to my watch. I'll take it from here."
Ysabelle tapped on her tactical smartwatch and double-checked that its functions were entirely online. Once she verified that the coordinates had been sent, the girl unbuckled her safety belt and signalled to the pilot with two fingers up. Slowly, the helicopter came to a halt and hovered in mid-air, all while the back door of the flying craft lowered.
And before the door had even extended out…
Ysabelle jumped.
No parachute, no spotter, no comrades to help or assist her.
The girl, fully aware of the dangers it presented, took a leap of faith and started to free fall from the sky. They weren't too high up, but it was high enough for Ysabelle to easily reach terminal velocity. The high winds zoomed past her face, forcing all of her luscious black hair to stand. But that didn't bother Ysabelle one bit.
It didn't take long for the girl to see the rocky canyon rushing to her face as the girl somersaulted in mid-air and extended her legs downwards. And with a loud thud, Ysabelle's feet crashed onto the rocky surface, triggering a mini-earthquake. However, the desired scene of her being squashed by the fall didn't happen. In fact, it was the ground that had been broken apart by Ysabelle's violent superhero entrance.
"Where are they?"
"Ninety-four degrees northwest!"
Ysabelle's subordinate's voice rang from her earpiece, completely unworried about her leader's well-being. And as if to prove her point, Ysabelle lowered her knees into a frog-like position before leaping forward like a spring that had been released. The ground beneath her shook violently, and the world from her perspective changed.
BOOM!!!
Ysabelle's body turned into a blur as she passed the speed of sound, creating a sonic boom behind her back. That momentum only increased as she rushed without looking backwards.
If it were any regular human, nay, any typical Vampire, their bodies wouldn't be able to handle the extreme speeds that Ysabelle was moving at. The G-forces alone would rip their organs out from their bodies, leaving the Vampires in a completely broken state.
However, the Blackburn bloodline was special.
If the Everwinter House's speciality was fighting in subzero conditions, and if the Moonreaver House's attribute was the complete domination of Dimensional Magic, the Blackburn House was a clan specialising in extreme, physical combat.
As the only War House in the Vampire Council, the Blackburn House had been bred for generations to possess superhuman bodies that could match the physically superior Werewolves. Leaving aside their signature Ghostflame, the Blackburn House were a clan of warriors who had trained in every single aspect of combat.
Be it hand-to-hand, swordsmanship, or even pure brute physical training, the Blackburn House trumps any other Vampiric Household. This was the reason why they were the only House capable of going toe-to-toe with the Vampires' mortal enemies, the Werewolves.
In fact, just from their physical attributes alone, the Blackburn House equals many of the top Werewolf Tribes.
"I see them!"
It didn't take long for Ysabelle to find her targets. A number of Vampires were surrounded by dozens of Outer Demons of all shapes and sizes. The Vampires were severely outnumbered, and many of them had reached a point of complete exhaustion. The wounded and incapacitated lay senselessly on the ground as if they were waiting for their inevitable demise. At the same time, their allies did their best to push the relentless Outer Demons away.
Alas, they had been on the field for hours now. What little stamina they had was reserved for just remaining conscious. But, even that proved to be an uphill battle.
And just when all hope seemed to be lost…
"HIYAAA!!!"
Ysabelle swung her large black claymore down, generating a shockwave that blew away all of the Outer Demons. With two gentle skips, the female Amazonian crashed right in front of the Vampires she sought to save, bringing hope to their forsaken eyes.
"Miss Ysabelle!!!" They shouted in unison.
The black-haired girl nodded back in response and subconsciously counted the survivors.
'Seven… The files said that there should be twenty. Tch! How annoying!'
Ysabelle held back the urge to spit and barked her next orders at the leader: "Secure the survivors. Help should be five minutes away. Leave the Outer Demons to me!"
If she had more time, perhaps Ysabelle could have given finer details. But alas, her opponents weren't one to wait around while she helped her allies. The shockwave that Ysabelle had sent only pushed back the Outer Demons for a moment. Once they regained their senses, they again started to bare their fangs and encircled their new prey.
With the survivors at the back of her mind, the young warrior could now focus all of her attention on the Outer Demons at hand.
'Twenty Arkudols, fifteen Ornoths, seventeen Astrons, nine Doggons and eight Okarins… I can see how our forces were defeated.'
Ysabelle made a mental note of all the Outer Demons she faced. Most of the Outer Demons were high-level monsters, each one capable of taking down an average C-Ranked Hunter. The Doggons, in particular, were Outer Demons that hunted A-Ranked Hunters for sport. However, it wasn't the vicious Doggons that Ysabelle was most wary about…
'Eight Okarins… Aren't they intensifying their attacks? The Outer Demons would never send so many Okarins before.'
Little was known about the enigmatic Outer Demons. While the vast majority of Outer Demons were mindless beasts that attacked for the sake of feasting, there were several intelligent Outer Demons amongst the higher ranks. And the Okarins were definitely among those select groups of sentient Demons.
Even though they possessed lizardmen properties, the Okarins seemed more humanoid than Mark Zukerberg. Their scaly skin and rugged frame made them look terrifying from behind, but their faces hinted at signs of humanity, especially from their big, beady eyes. And it didn't help that they spoke to each other with groans and grunts, showing that they were capable of intelligent speech.
However, it wasn't linguistic capabilities that made Ysabelle cautious… But the anti-magic field that the Okarins unconsciously emitted.
'If it wasn't for these Outer Demons, why would we have to rely on external help?!'
Once more, Ysabelle spat internally. True Vampires were beings that were closest to magic. No human, elf, or other living creature on Earth could come close to an average Vampire's mastery over magic. Alas, that strength also proved to be a significant weakness.
Against opponents that could nullify their magic, Vampires could only turn into immortal punching bags. And if their heads were severed… Well, their immortal bodies would cease to exist.
'I'll deal with those Okarins first!'
Ysabelle moved her body first, intending to take the initiative in battle. She disappeared from the Outer Demons' sights and reappeared in the middle of the pack, right smack between two Okarins. Before they could even register that their attacker had arrived, Ysabelle swung her massive blade, cleaving the two lizardmen in two.
'Two down! Six to go!'
The female Amazonian leapt into the air, dodging the attacks that came from the other Outer Demons around. She moved like an acrobat, somersaulting and splitting her legs apart in mid-air, all to get a flexible momentum that resembled a war dance.
Many of the Outer Demons attempted to draw blood from her tender flesh, but Ysabelle easily evaded those attacks. Using her black claymore as a support, she brushed past the insignificant enemies and landed squarely in front of three more Okarins. And like a batter hitting a home run, she swung with all her might, decapitating the three foes in one go.
'Three more left!'
Ysabelle leapt back, immediately scanning the area for the last three lizardmen. Unfortunately, this time, the Outer Demons got wise to her antics. The three Okarins split in different directions, each one commanding a unit of Outer Demons to protect them. From experience, they knew that Vampires had low stamina and couldn't survive a drawn-out battle without magic. Therefore, they thought that if they could slowly chip down Ysabelle's defences, they could emerge from the battle victorious.
Alas, Ysabelle wasn't any mere Vampire.
With all of her strength, Ysabelle stomped the ground in a fury, causing a spastic seizure to run up the spines of all the Outer Demons around her. Disoriented by the sudden earthquake, the Outer Demons lost their balance, and some had even fallen face first onto the floor.
Brandishing her weapon, Ysabelle flew straight at an Okarin that had fallen, stabbing its heart before it could even open its mouth in agony. Not willing to waste a single second more, she brushed past all of the insignificant Outer Demons, finding her last two remaining prey utterly defenceless.
And with two swings of her sword…
Schlick! Schlick!
Two lizardmen's heads rolled on the floor like a football, their eyes still wide as they couldn't register what had happened.
In a mere minute, the eight Okarins had been annihilated. And with their deaths, the anti-magic field hindering the Vampires had dissipated into nothingness. Ysabelle took a deep breath, enjoying the freedom of sensing her magic once more. Her pure agate eyes then turned their attention to the remaining unresponsive Outer Demons, who had been frozen still and unaware of what hit them.
With their leaders gone, they had reverted back to their mindless beasts. And their deep primal instinct was screaming at them… Screaming at them to run.
"As if I'll let you!"
Ysabelle's cold and detached eyes burned with a righteous fury. Magic power filled her veins, intoxicating the woman in the illusion of power and grandeur. At that moment, Ysabelle felt like she was invincible. Like the apex predator looking down at the bottom of the food chain, Ysabelle scoffed at the measly peasants that dared to challenge her sovereignty.
And with a movement of her hand… The canyon had turned into a wall of flames.
Pale, black-and-white flames erupted from Ysabelle's body, engulfing all of the remaining Outer Demons instantly. The beasts yelped and cried, all of them desperately trying their best to survive the blazing inferno that burnt their flesh and bones and their souls. Alas, there was no respite. How could there be?
Ysabelle didn't even think twice before intensifying her signature power.
The Blackburn House didn't get their name from their affinity to fire magic, and neither did it get it from their inherited black hair. The Blackburn House got its name from their innate ability to create a unique fire called Ghostflame.
On the surface, Ghostflame looks like a novelty fire with special black and white effects. However, that was far from the truth. Ghostflame possessed destructive capabilities exceeding any magic that Vampires had ever created. It burns not only in the physical realm but one's soul as well.
Not only that, Ghostflame was impossible to extinguish using traditional means. As long as the user constantly channels magic power to it, the black and white fire would burn indefinitely, creating an endless loop of destruction until the target was completely incinerated from existence.
Even beings such as Werewolves, who had naturally high resistances to magic, could not escape the wrath of a fully-powered Ghostflame.
And so, with nowhere to run, the Outer Demons could only accept their fate as the black-and-white embers trimmed down their essences, leaving nothing but ashes in their place.
Ysabelle didn't take any joy in killing over seventy Outer Demons, as if it was nothing more than lifting a finger for her. She glanced back at the survivors, once again affirming the numbers. Ysabelle's grim face turned a little contrite, not knowing how to feel about the numerous losses her Blackburn House had faced.
Yes, they had the numbers to match a nation's active military, but losses of this magnitude were piling up day by day. No matter how deep their reserves were, losing this many soldiers… These many lives… It hurts her youthful soul.
Which was why…
"How long are you going to keep watching?"
Ysabelle scowled at a lone tree nearby, her eyes burning with indignant rage. She threw her massive claymore with one hand, sending it flying like a dart towards the helpless tree. Before her sword could tear the innocent sapling apart, a shadow gushed like the wind, taking the form of a beautiful blonde man right before Ysabelle.
The man was about two metres tall, half a head taller than Ysabelle, standing at a whopping 1.85 metres. His pale green eyes resembled that of the emeralds of old, polished to the nth degree. Towering with a bulky build, his dense muscles spilt out from his undersized tee, revealing all the perfect curves a man should have.
And with the smile of a fuckboy, he greeted the woman covered in blood and grime as if she were a queen ready to be serviced.
"Good afternoon, my lovely Ysabelle!"
"Jerome Warclaw…"
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