Second death for the dead
They each reached their designated spot, five in their locations, awaiting the assault that would befall them in due time.
Senarre stood leaning against a large panel of metal that once belonged to a ship, her two revolvers lying on top. She thought to herself, “damn it's even hot at night here,” she pulled on the neckline of her shirt. “A siege sounds more fun on paper,” she frowned and picked the guns back up suddenly, like a burst of wind. There was a shirtless man in shorts sitting on the top of a pile of scrap metal. “I take it your people also have a strategist ?” Senarre smiled, flourishing one of the pistols around her finger. “Two, actually, we're gonna fight or what? cause I'm getting bored and it's hot out here.” The man rushed her with little effort. She fired a shot directly into the man's abdomen, causing him to pull back, grasping at the wound. “A gunslinger, then, been a long while since I've had one of those on the menu, and a female one at that. Grigori would want to savour you, but I'm more of the dine and dash type.” Senarre raised her weapon, aiming it at the man's leg, and fired five shots. They flew in and left no exit wounds. He fell over, clenching his leg, attempting to stand on shredded muscles. She walked over slowly, carefully reloading the weapon as she did so. “How did you hurt one of my kind?” the man said while dragging himself back on the floor. She raised the gun into the air. “Ive been dying to try out these Hollow tips, but then we got the woman you guys are after, and she hooked me up with some neat poison for them, so you got a budget slayers kit if I had blessed bullets i would've just ended you from the rip, but I really wanted to test out my new toy and well i got a prime subject right here thank you for volunteering” The man with a panicked expression on his face continued crawling away he shouted "you're cra!” she shot again severing his jaw from the face causing it to hang limply he lifted it back to the face and the muscle fibers began to reconnect. She had caught up to him, and he turned around, attempting to claw at her leg, only to be met with the barrel of a large shotgun. A loud bang echoed off the scrap. The man rolled over to his back. A steaming brass shell bounced off the concrete ground with a resounding ding. She raised the weapon once more. The man saw down the barrel cleanly, she said, “Any words to leave the world with?” The man laughed and said, “Fuck you.” She pulled the trigger again, and a spray of red haze coated the nearby scrap. The body was still twitching; she pulled back on the pump of the weapon, sending a second shell dinging onto the ground before aiming at where the heart of the man should be. She pulled the trigger again, and the movement stopped. She turned to walk back to the building quietly, saying, “Time to see whose fight to jump into.”
Paulida sat rocking a chair in the basement by two of its legs. He whispered to himself, “I wish they'd get here so we can get this over with." A man with a breastplate opened the door to the underground waterways. “Shall we then?” he unsheathed a sword. Paulida stepped back and said, “Ah, too bad mine broke, it's alright though ill just do my best.” The man in the armor raised his sword to his side and bowed before saying, “My name is Mirov, and yours my opponent?” Paulida bowed in return and said, “My name is Paulida.” The man lunged forward with the sword. Paulida stepped aside, the slash missing him by a wide margin. Mirov said, "You're fast or at least good at anticipating attack.” he dashed backwards to near the door that he entered through and held his sword with two hands. He brought it down in a downwards arc, and a wave of green energy shot through the room, kicking up dust. “I am a master of wind sorcery. I cannot be defeated by one without a weapon,” he sheathed his sword and began to walk forward through the dust. He stopped. Paulida had his hand stretched out no dust was kicked up behind him. Mirov, through a surprised expression, said,” Impossible, for a mere mortal man to not only survive but stop such a level of sorcery, that is a spell that requires incantation and study for mere mortals.” Paulida walked over to one of the walls of the basement and slammed his fist into it, shattering the stones that made up the wall. “Mere displays of force and intimidation will not work on me, mortals, and their insistence on intimidation.” Paulida looked over to him with a bored expression. “Just making sure this place is sturdy enough, and you know what, for the sake of the duel ill give you another shot. I won't defend against it, go ahead, gimme your best shot.”
Mirov pulled his sword back from its sheath and swung it at Paulida, who was standing with his arms spread wide to make himself as large a target as possible. A cutting burst of wind slashed through the air and stopped on contact with him. He looked down, inspecting the damage, a few small tears on his shirt. He grabbed at the shirt and said, “Aww man, I really liked this one, oh well, my turn then.” He raised his right hand in front of him flat and steady, and the mana shifted to a feeling of oppressive hopelessness burning hot like a boot on the throat. “Eight great hot depths, one through three.” black lines like shadows emanated from Paulidas' position. Mirov moved to dodge, but one caught his boot, and he staggered on the ground. “What is this?” he stepped forward, and a crushing sensation pressed down on him from all directions. Paulida stepped forward slowly, “Feeling hungry? Thirsty perhaps?” Mirov staggered forward again. “How could you? What are you?” Paulida scratched the back of his head. “Just a wanderer,” he held out his right hand and pointed at Mirov; sixteen ethereal daggers flew through the air and sliced through the man. He yelped when they cut him, but the injuries were gone. “Wanna give up and go home?” Paulida said calmly, Mirov said back to him in a frantic tone, “I cant my master wills that we take the woman back to him.” Paulida frowned, raising his hand again, raising two fingers this time instead of one, aiming them both. One for the head and the other for the heart, Mirov fell to the floor silent, and Paulida turned to go up the stairs, only to disappointingly find them broken now. “Damn it, now I gotta go the long way around.” He turned around and walked through the door that Mirov had entered through, stepping over the body.
Kian stood leaning against the wall, flipping his sword by the blade, throwing it into the air, and catching it between his thumb and index finger. “Hello, little cat,” said a man in large plate armor from the doorway, walking in with a polearm to match his size. Kian caught the sword in his left hand and flourished it, “finally i was starting to think big bro and uncle Paulida’s plan didn't work,” the man in armor said in a deep voice echoing from within the helmet. Kian said back smugly, “Welp lets get this show on the road then.” He threw his hand down, and the sound of glass shattering rang out before the room was covered with thick gray smoke. The man in armor moved to block, but the polearm was caught in the tight room, unable to pull it up. He raised his arm. Kian emerged from the smoke with his sword gripped in reverse, aiming for the neck he sliced, causing some small droplets of crimson to begin beading on the neckline of the armor. “Nice strike, little cat. This environment is unfavorable to one such as myself, so I will have to make some adjustments.”
Kian lunged forward again, the man in armor grabbed him by the shirt, twisting his arm around it, “Little cat, you are fast but weak, need more to kill.” He threw Kian forward, sending him flying out into the central hangar building with the door in tow. He got up to one knee, swapping the sword from his left hand to his right. He reached into his pants pocket, pulling three small vials, and held them in between the fingers of his left hand. He rushed forward, and the man in armor said out loud in his heavy accent, “Little cat, that trick is not work on me.” Kian closed the distance in an instance throwing the vials directly at the man. Three small explosions rocked the suit. A new slash appeared on the man's arm, causing the armor plating to fall off the undersuit on the left arm. “Fascinating, of the little cat, what more tricks might you have, little cat?” Kian staggered forward with a small slash on his leg. “Damn, he nicked me.” He reached into his pocket, and the man tensed up, anticipating another barrage of explosives. Kian threw a series of ice needles at the man, bouncing off the man's armor. Kian closed the distance and brought the blade down on the man's helmet, causing it to roll off, bouncing on the ground. “Perhaps you do possess some skill, little cat.”
The man pulled on his polearm and brought it down near Kian. He dodged it narrowly and thought, “That would've done me in if it connected.” The man swung the polearm sideways, and Kian deflected it with a series of sparks flying off his sword. He threw a series of small vials into the air, spilling black powder onto the ground to no effect. “Little cat, your tricks are failing i see no?” Kian rushed the man again, who brought his polearm around in a wide arc. Kian jumped, catching his footing on the shaft of the weapon before slashing at the man's eyes with a clean cut across both. “Little cat, you misunderstand the nature of the aristocratic undead. We do not have the need for the eye as you do.” The man swung again, Kian dodged it by the skin of his teeth. The man swung again. Kian deflected it with the sword. He threw a small vial at the armored man, a large cloud of grey smoke flooded the room, and the man swung wildly Hitting nothing. “What's the matter, Mister Armor, having trouble sensing me ?” he grinned slightly, rushing in, forcing his blade through the gap in the plate into the man's heart. “Little cat, you must know that I can see you quite clearly.” Kian dashed forwards, slashing at the man's face, landing a slice to his cheek before the smoke cleared. He thought, “Perfect, the blood mixed with the smoke powder messes with their senses.”
Kian made some distance between the two of them. He smiled and raised his hand, crossing his thumb over his index finger and middle finger. Seven detonations sent a thick cloud of smoke throughout the whole room. Kian ran forward, keeping low to the ground, dragging the blade along the ground, creating a trail of sparks. He jumped up, bringing the blade to the man's neck, leaving a trail cutting through the smoke. “I'm sorry, old man, but you're already dead.” The armored man said one word, “What,” as his head rolled off the neck and onto the floor. Kian walked over to the head on the floor and forced the blade through the side of the head. “Well, that should handle my end of the deal. I wonder how everyone else is doing?”
Rosario sat legs crossed, leaning against the large warehouse hangar door, his eyes closed, sword clutched in his arms. “Good morning,” he opened his eyes, seeing the one-armed undead standing in front of him, he angrily said, “I don't know what you got in that black stone sword of yours, but I can't regrow the damned arm.” Rosario stood up and drew the sword from its scabbard. “Can we get this overwith? I'm really tired and would love to sleep a little tonight.” The one-armed undead growled, “I'm really not liking your tone. Green eyes, I'll enjoy pulling them out of your skull. I wonder what you'll taste like.” Rosario turned his sword, stretching his arm across his body, holding the sword behind his head and the scabbard behind his back. “Please give me feedback on this stance, Vampyr its one of the stances my brother created, but I'm not good at going fast like him.” The undead extended the claws from his hand. “I don't care about your stances or techniques or anything. I'm going to disembowel you, and then I'll take that elven woman too. Grigori will be very pleased with me; he loves it when they struggle.”
A burst of movement, the One-armed Vampyr looked around. He heard his opponent say, “You talk too much.” His vision rolled forward, bouncing off the ground. He could see his body standing there, still upright, the green-eyed man standing behind it holding the blade that punctured his chest. He exhaled deeply, “I can't use Ryvr’s stances like that, I'll drain myself before we bag the big guy.” he turned to see the head on the ground. “You're still aware, I should've used the black stones if it truly stopped your ability to heal, oh well.” he walked over and dropped the blade through the severed head's temple, placing his foot on the side of the head and pulling it free before shaking the blade off and walking back into the building.
Carmilla sat in a folding chair, one leg resting over another, rolling a bullet over her fingers before sliding it into the loading gate of the repeating pistol. “Firearms sure have come so far in the last hundred years, huh?” she said, talking to herself. A puff of air blew through the balcony scaffold, the warm nighttime air blowing a pair of crimson eyes stared back at her in the darkness. “Finally came for me then?” the body attached to the eyes growled back. “Grigori is waiting for you on the roof. Do you want me to take you back in one piece or force you to regenerate over the course of months with you consciously aware of his whims like last time?” She pushed the lever forward, chambering the round. “Nah, I'm good. I think my new friends have a better chance at killing the lot of you than you guys have. You've grown complacent, satisfied with the slim pickings. Grigoi is half the man he was a century ago. He is dominated by fear; his targeting of defenseless women has proven that eating a meal with no meat hasn't improved his strength. You should know by this point that the nature of our condition is the inability to produce the mana needed to maintain a living body in its optimal state.” The voice growled back, “he has no need for mana-rich blood to sustain himself, and neither do we, for we are his kin, that is why you are the worst of our ranks living undead” Carmilla stood up from her chair “the modifications i make to my body are my choice i do not desire to be as you are nothing but predators on the night streets to barely live, what happened to the true aristocratic undead of centuries past? The ones that were said to be able to rival armies with mere strength alone. Also, I think you could maybe give me a better title than the living undead because from where I see it, I'm in more of a middle ground from a biological standpoint.”
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She raised the gun to the figure in the darkness and fired. The figure stepped forward, revealing a bald man with long pointed ears, and then froze. “What have you done? Normal bullets shouldn't work against the undead. Why am I frozen?” She walked forward, extending the claw-like appendages out of her right arm, tossing the pistol to the floor. “Your physiology is my weapon. I had to make some modifications to my formula, but right now your blood pressure should be lowering as well as your perpetual strength being sapped; perhaps you may even feel a change in your fight or flight response.” She walked over slowly, a twisted smile on her face. She ran her claws along the man's face, cutting deep into the flesh. “You might even feel some coldness in your limbs, fairly strange for a warm night like tonight, right?” the man growled again. “What did you do to me?” She slashed at his chest, forcing her claws through where the heart should be. “Just testing a theory when it comes to dispatching the undead like you, should make it more efficient, better than testing the drugs on myself like usual. I can use higher doses for you, cause I can study it without having to maintain my faculties.” the man angrily shouted to her “Grigori will have you back as his pet you can never escape him, you will serve him on you knees for eternity” She walked in a circle around the man and said “Sure i will” in a sarcastic tone before cleaving the top of his head off with her claws.
Rosario ran up the stairs to the roof. Senarre met him there. “Going after the big one, too, then huh?” he said to her. She pulled one of the revolvers from her holster. “You bet I wanna drop this one that way I can definitely kill the freak from the castle if he shows up again.” They ran up and opened the door. A man stood there, with long black hair, sticky and matted, glowing red eyes, looking back at them. Senarre said, whispering to Rosario, “Careful, Lorea, his eyes are weird there like yours when it was glowing at the castle, they're not like the other Vampyr that we've killed here tonight.” The man with long hair said calmly, “Hello there, little ones, I believe you have something of mine, a little wayward spawn of mine.” Senarre pulled her second gun from her holster. “What might that mean to you?” The man with long hair said, “Apologies, I forgot my pleasantries. I am Grigori. I am of the aristocratic undead spawn of Kael. I come to collect my wayward spawn.” Rosario drew the blade from its sheath and entered a ready stance. Senarre trained her guns at the man. “I really hate pushy guys like you. She said she's not going back with you, so I guess that really leaves us no choice. Let's do this then.” She looked over to Rosario and gave him a nod. He reciprocated, and he rushed forward, throwing a feint with the scabbard and slashing with his blade at the man.
“Another Lorea, hmm, been a while since I've fought one, the one from thirty years ago was a fight to remember, I may be a monster, but she was a demon.” The man blocked the scabbard with his forearm and the blade with his right arm. Rosario was struggling to cut into the man's flesh. He dropped down and yelled, “Now!” Six gunshots tore into the man, catching him off guard. “Interesting two at once ill indulge,” he lunged for Senarre, only to be sent flying back by a large blast from a shotgun she pumped the weapon, causing a brass shell to clink onto the ground. She said, smiling, “wanna try again?” Rosario closed the distance, bringing the sword to the man's chest in a thrusting motion. The blade stopped as if it had hit stone, sending a reverberation up the blade. She fired six more shots at the undead. Grigori turned to Rosario and landed a punch square to his shoulder, causing him to stagger backwards slightly, allowing him to grab a hold of him and lift him off the ground. “You reek of that woman, the demon,” the man began to tighten his grip on Rosario, attempting to choke him. Senarre moved over, footsteps muffled her eyes, glowing gold. She raised the shotgun to Grigori, aimed directly for the head. He turned, causing him to drop Rosario onto the metal roof of the warehouse. The gunshot sounded out a burst of smoke around his head.
“You fight like children, uncoordinated and sloppy.” The smoke cleared to reveal a half dome of a solid red crystalline substance covering his head, leaving it unharmed. He pulled his arm back and, wrapping it with the red substance, he struck Senarre with his forearm, sending her flying to the other side of the roof. She began slipping. She yelled, “Help!” Rosario scrambled to his feet, running to grab her, ignoring the man standing beside him. He closed the distance and threw himself to try to catch her hand, but she slipped off the edge before he could reach her. A crash could be heard below. He crawled over to the side of the building so he couldn't see her, and she was quiet. He stood up, fearing the worst, and turned to face his opponent. He threw the scabbard onto the ground, generating a blade of black stones from his left hand. One of his normally green eyes shifted to a purple-crimson. “Interesting, you are like me, and so is the woman touched by fate itself.” He rushed forward, clashing with the man, sparks flying off the steel of his sword when it struck with the now smooth red that formed the shape of a crude sword. “What might yours be? The woman's is clearly some form of sound manipulation, but yours is familiar, strangely familiar. Just seeing it makes the very hair on my body stand on end.” They clashed again, the man landing a small cut on Rosario's forearm. “Your blood reeks of that woman, lorea are you perchance related closer than being fellow clan members?” Rosario swung the blade for the man's head. “If this demon is who I'm thinking of, yes.” Grigori redirected the strike and moved with another sword, generating it out of his hand in an instant. Rosario blocked it with the blade of black stones, the edge of the blade chipping off and falling to the ground.
He broke off the clash with a counter and stepped back, making distance between the two of them. He thought to himself, “Damn, I can't get an opening, he’s on my ass im having to pay for every strike.” Grigori walked toward him slowly, “Realizing you can't win? Tell you what, Lorea, you're strong. Join my ranks as an aristocratic undead, afterall i see your friends have done in my men, so I'm on the market for new employees.” Rosario thought for a moment, “Damn, Ryvr’s technique might be the only option.” Rosario extended both of his arms, swords pointing away from his body on either side. He slowly let his arms lower until they both gently touched the ground with the tips of the sword blades. He tapped them on the ground once, then twice, then thrice. Before the fourth ding of the blades on the ground, Grigori rushed him, “Enough spectacle, respond to my request.” In one breath, he said, “No.” Grigori was sent back by a flurry of slashes; his hands were missing, and his clothing was shredded. Wounds flowed crimson but stopped and receded back into his body. While his opponent was reeling, he closed the distance, landing more slashes on the opponent, pushing him back. He brought both blades down in an arc parallel to flourishing one of the swords and shifting his grip in reverse and slashing across the man's eyes, his red irises dimmed, he dashed backwards to make distance with the flurry of slashes. Rosario pulled back as well, feeling his legs and arms strain under the excess movement. The man slowly regrew his right hand and left eye. He said back, staring through a single glowing pure crimson iris, “You are dangerous, very, very dangerous.” He looked up, trembling, “Half-crown King i know your true nature. How could you betray your brother like that, Half-crown king, how?” he laughed maniacally. Rosario froze the voice from the dreams, “Betrayer of my brother” echoed in his mind, throwing him out of focus.
“Fuck you,” Carmilla appeared behind grigori driving her claws through his chest and pulling on his long black hair, wrapping it around her hand. She stretched the hair as long as she could, pulling his head up. He looked at her with a smile, “My little bird has returned ill take you back with me to my palace.” She pressed her foot onto the back of his body, pulling as hard as she could. “I will never go back to your dungeon,” though gritted teeth, she pulled harder and pushed down with her foot, “I nor any other will suffer at your hands, your days of using people as mere playthings are over.” She pulled her foot back and kicked forward. He smiled wickedly, “Beware of the Half-crown king.” She kicked forward, pulling the head off in one struggle, and she raised it to her face, glaring into the still glowing eye. She grabbed the head and began pushing down on it with both hands. She raised it above her head. A Moist crunch rang out, viscera poured onto her face and upper body. She opened her mouth, allowing the viscera to flow into her mouth. She licked her lips, cleaning the gore from her hands before turning to lick them. She frowned and pulled up saliva from her mouth, swishing it around, and then spitting it onto the ground. “Tastes like shit,” she extended out her arm, a smooth blade of solidified crimson, her eyes glowing a brilliant crimson. She then let it fall to nothingness.
She walked over to Rosario and extended her arm. “You ok, cousin?” He planted the blade onto the ground, using it as leverage to stand up. “yea i genuinely think that this is the least amount of damage I've sustained in a fight recently.” he stepped forward, losing his balance slightly “are you okay” she said again he exhaled deeply his eye shifting back to a pale green and the blade of black stone disintegrated “Yea im tired, i dont think i should be able to fully conjure a blade like that more than once per day, it sapped me like crazy, doesn't help that i tried using Ryvr’s techniques” she craned her head “Ryvr?” he walked over to the door to the stairs “My older brother first born of this generation of Lorea, i can explain later but i need to see in Senarre is ok” She closed her eyes “Your friend is alive i can sense her vitality”
Senarre was lying in a dumpster, an arm reaching in. “You ok? ”she said back, annoyed. “Yep, just dandy,” he pulled her out of the dumpster. We should meet back inside with everyone to discuss. “Sounds good to me,” she said, straining as she set foot on the ground. She stepped forward and lost her balance. “Ankle hurts.” Carmilla, following close behind, said, “The only injury you sustained after falling three floors into a dumpster is a rolled ankle?” Senarre banged her hand on her chest. “I'm just sturdy like that.” Carmilla knelt and reached out, “May I?” Senarre said, “Go ahead.” She held out her hand. A pale light illuminated the area and disappeared. “Try now,” she stood up and stepped forward. “thanks what was that by the way?” Carmilla smiled, “Basic healing magic,” Rosario said to her. “So what exactly did you do on the roof? Why did you eat some of him? The way you were talking about him made it seem like you didn't want to be anywhere near him.” She frowned and said, “I took in his power, the one that made him like you, also took all of his memories, too, combat experience, sexual encounter, fears, all of his dirty little secrets.” she grinned halfheartedly “truthfully id assumed that his centuries of existence wouldve held some better idea into how to fix your nightmares, because as i mentioned previously he was like you to some extent” she closed her eyes and kept walking behind them not needing to maintain visual sight as she could sense their vitality she stopped and opened her eyes
“I can't see them,” Rosario turned to her. She was sweating, almost frozen in fear. “What's wrong? Are you okay?” Still as a statue, she said, “I can't see anything tied to the power; it is there, but I can't see it whenever I think about it. I can only see a man in black armor standing over me, a stone sword, black as a void in his hands, two glowing crimson purple staring back at me. I feel afraid, like I angered someone. I keep hearing the name over and over in my head.” He looked at her, confused. “What's the name?” she looked at him through the same green eyes that looked at her. “Half-Crown King,” Rosario’s face shifted. "He called me that when I fought him. What does it mean?” She looked at him and frowned. “Honestly, I have no clue. Clan Lorea’s records could maybe have some information, but I wouldn't even know where to start. Grigori was really, really old, like in my estimations, he was around when Dreynas was just a collection of nation states governed by the progenitors of what would become the noble families, our ancestors if you may.” he scratched his chin. “Well, the Dreynas clan records are kept in the archives in the ancestral manor, so we could hit that angle, but I'm afraid to go back that way.” Carmilla could feel the mana he was emitting. It felt sorrowful, so she decided not to ask again. “I feel like we could always use the second option, then in terms of fixing the dreams for you.”
“What might that be?” she said back, carefully watching her tone. “I think we can use the physical enhancement strategy.” Rosario’s face and mana changed, no longer somber. “What's that?” She cleared her throat and spat on the ground, “sorry brain matter stuck in my throat.” She cleared her throat again. “So basically, the way physical enhancement works is folding your mana in on itself. I've seen it used in military applications for concealment and, strangely enough, organ transplantation, granted this is new stuff i only learned about it through a paper from three years ago by one Dr.Vorsk he said that it could be used to reduce organ and recipient mana mismatch the analogy he used in the paper is like sword steel folding it to remove impurities” With a confused expression on his face he looked over to her “Why would that work ?” She said back, her sharpened canines visible, “I'm glad you asked. I think it will work because when I tasted your blood, the amount of mana was absolutely fucking insane, pardon the language, which granted i am working with something that I'm fairly certain has never been written down in any sort of publication, but the mana you are leaking off is just going crazy shooting off into every single direction without warning like some sort of massive neuron misfire” she inhaled out of breath “But basically i think that your mana just going crazy may be a part in the visions, when you said you felt like you didnt have as much mana as you used to”
“Sorry for the yapping, but there's so much information to take in here, I also want some samples from you, too,” she pointed at Senarre. “Why me?” She walked over to her, laying her hands on her shoulders and looking up into her eyes, “You, him, and I guess me now are similar to some extent. I don't need my own consent to self-experiment, but I'll definitely need yours because I have some theories on why the nightmares stopped when you slept in close proximity, ill work that theory if the physical enhancement method doesn't work,” she shrugged and pulled on her cheek, revealing her teeth.“Besides, if none of those work, I can just suck out the excess,” she winked. Rosario cringed. “Physical enhancement?” Senarre said curiously, “I think Paulida does something similar; he might be able to help.”
The four of them walked into the rented home. “I'm tired, I'm going to try to get some sleep,” Rosario said, walking towards the door of his room. “Good night, I'm going to go take a shower now cause I smell like trash juice,” Senarre said. Paulida said, “Good night then, don't forget Lorea, we'll start trying to teach you the physical enhancement tomorrow, and I'll probably also try to teach her too,” he said, gesturing towards Senarre. “Although I'm not much of a teacher,” Kian, still moving about with plenty of energy, said in an almost yelling pitch, “where's Auntie Carm? I think I did pretty well for my first fight.” Rosario yawned and tiredly said, “She went to burn down Grigoris' lair, and stu,ff said she needed to attend, to and she'll meet up with us soon.” Kian mimicking the movements of his sword swinging, he said, “I was like this and then like this and that and then I said,” he lowered his voice to sound cool, “Sorry, but you are already dead.” Paulida smiled, “Adrenaline crash will catch up to you soon enough, little one.” he yawned and walked off to his room.