Night Raid on the Count's Manor

The city lay dark and silent, with only the occasional faint rustle breaking the quiet. The stench of blood drifted over the battlements, carried into the streets below by the howling north wind. Fortunately, most of the townsfolk were already fast asleep, though a few suffered nightmares from the scent. Over a hundred corpses lay piled upon the wall. Several had been drained dry, left as shriveled husks of skin and bone—the handiwork, clearly, of vampire players. Pools of blood dripped slowly down from the watchtower, leaving wide, dark streaks across the stone. Wiping his hands on a silk handkerchief, Langlibaitiao struck an affected pose. "What a pain. Why did they have to mess with us?" Anyezhilang mumbled under his breath, "Wasn't it because of the racket you made, Boss...?" "Ouch!" Another slap cracked across his skull. Langlibaitiao patted him on the shoulder, adopting the tone of a seasoned veteran. "Youngsters ought to step up and shoulder responsibility. How can you always try to shirk it and pass the blame to your seniors?" "..." A player named Feixingdewenzi hastily cut in: "Quit your damn bickering! We're burning daylight here." "Once the sun comes up, we'll have to scurry into hiding like rats in a sewer again." "Damn it, let's move." That was precisely why the vampire template, despite its sky-high stats, remained so unpopular among players: sunlight allergy. Sunlight allergy was a pure debuff. The moment a vampire player came into contact with daylight, their entire body would burst into flames, reducing them to ashes in under a minute of exposure. Even Langlibaitiao, as a vampire sire, could only endure for maybe two minutes longer. Still, as one of Nocturne's squad leaders, he had decent coin to his name and could afford protective sunlight-warding scrolls, allowing him to show up at major daytime events on occasion. As a result, among players in the Kingdom of Cinders faction, vampires had become bottom-tier trash compared to the vastly popular dragonborn and half-dragon transformation templates—only die-hard vampire enthusiasts ever considered joining Nocturne. That, and the fresh-faced rookies Langlibaitiao had conned and dragged in. Unlike ordinary players who actively jumped from one event to the next, Nocturne players spent most of the day cooped up in pitch-black caverns. They led a life that could never see the light of day, passing the time mining ore or grinding subterranean beasts like phase spiders and cave lizards. Only when night fell could these vampire players unleash Nocturne's fearsome reputation, stalking the streets with arrest warrants to hunt down targets. And now, Langlibaitiao had finally gathered this crew together after landing a coveted role in a major battlefield quest. One after another, the vampires vaulted the city wall, dropping silently into the streets below before slipping into the deep alley shadows, darting through the dark. Some even scuttled along the walls like spiders. Langlibaitiao flew low, hugging the ground. His eyes glowed crimson, and his dark red cape snapped in the wind, presenting the very picture of noble vampiric grandeur. "Vici falls tonight!" "To restore the glory of the kindred is our sacred duty!" Langlibaitiao proclaimed with stirring fervor. "Uh, Boss, we're vampires. Don't we just instantly croak if we see the light?" Anyezhilang asked, scratching his head in confusion as he clung to an adjacent wall. The imposing boss aura Langlibaitiao had painstakingly built shattered in an instant, and all the wind seemed to go right out of his sails. "Cut the damn chatter and just follow my lead." "See that big estate over there with the garden and the lights on? That's the count's manor. The guy's name is Okot Sur, or something like that." "The plan is simple: we charge in, assassinate the count, and we're done." "Got it, Boss." ... The night deepened, and the moon shone like a ribbon of pale silk. Bathed in moonlight, the ancient stone walls of the count's manor took on a solemn air. The vampires slipped into the estate without a sound. Their silhouettes flickered beneath the moonlight like wisps of smoke, blending seamlessly into the surrounding dark. Sentries stood guard at the gate, completely oblivious to the intruders leaping effortlessly over the perimeter wall. *Crack.* A sharp, unison snap rang out as both guards stationed at the entrance had their necks wrung clean. "Boss, didn't you say we only kill witnesses?" "My hands were itching. Couldn't help myself." "I swear, this stealth run feels kind of wrong... like, it's not at all how they do it in the movies." "Never mind that nonsense. Did anyone spot you? No? Then shut it." The vampire players resumed their search for the count. Their steps were light and swift, each landing in absolute silence, moving like cats prowling the dark. They wound through the corridors and crossed the courtyard, quietly picking off patrolling guards along the way as they closed in on the brightly lit reception hall. Suddenly, footsteps sounded ahead of them. A maid had cautiously pushed open a door, carrying a silver tray heaped with food scraps, weariness written all over her face. She muttered to herself, "Strange... where did Lord Bernard go?" "Whatever, I should finish up my work for tonight. We're almost out of food at home, and little Eg is probably waiting for me." "*Sigh*, things in the city keep getting worse by the day." From the shadows in the corner of the hall, several pairs of blood-red eyes fixed upon the maid. "Boss, do we kill her?" "..." "Forget it, let her go. I don't think the quest allows killing commoners." The maid felt an unnatural chill in the air. An ominous foreboding crept over her, raising the hairs on her neck. Glancing nervously around, she carefully dumped the scraps from the silver tray into a cloth pouch at her waist, gathered her skirts, and quickened her pace, scurrying away. She had no idea she had just brushed past death. Nor did she know what was about to unfold. Behind a set of ornate glass windows illuminated by brilliant light, a tall, burly silhouette came into view. Without question, it was Count Okot Sur, the man the vampires were hunting. At that moment, the count was hurling furious curses, utterly unaware of the danger looming outside. "Damn fools! Be careful! Don't you dare ruin my painting!" "That was painted by Master Avaro himself! It's worth over a hundred gold coins! If you break it, cutting off your head won't begin to cover the cost!" "And those gold coins belong to me! Thirty-four thousand and seventy-three coins—not a single one short! If I find even one missing later, I'll chop off your filthy hands!" "Where is Alyosha? Why hasn't he arrived yet?" Inside the brightly lit hall, household guards were bustling about, hurriedly packing away the count's treasures as though stripping the entire manor bare. Count Okot had hired a mysterious wizard skilled in teleportation magic. Together with his accumulated wealth plundered over decades, he intended to flee south to the Fadlan Empire. *I will make it out of here, and I'll keep living like a lord in the south,* Okot thought, staring out toward the distance.