Anastasia's face lost color as she caught sight of a high-vampire emerging from the shadows, blocking their path of retreat.
Ahead of them, a horde of bloodsuckers could be seen approaching, while behind them loomed a high-vampire.
High-Vampires are essentially ancient beings who have lived for hundreds of years. Unlike humans, elves, and dwarves who grow weak as they get old, Vampires are the opposite.
Since they grew stronger each time they fed themselves, it could basically be translated as the longer they lived, the more they fed.
Meaning, the older a vampire was, the stronger that abomination was bound to be.
In essence, high-vampires were superior creatures—faster and stronger than most, if not all, other vampires in their ranks.
That is especially the case if they are the direct blood descendants of their former Vampire Monarch.
A high-vampire of true noble blood origin, or the direct descendants of Monarch, like the one before Anastasia was as deadly as a threat of its level could get.
Seeing her terror-filled frozen look, Nero frowned and then turned around to spot the object of Anastasia's terror.
And when his eyes landed on the high-vampire, a bleak chuckle escaped his lips.
"Well, looks like we are royally fucked, aren't we?" Nero clicked his tongue.
After his battle with Lucas, although most of his wounds had healed, Nero was in no condition to use his Gift again or employ his best weapon art as he did a few minutes ago.
He had been fighting all day. And unlike Lucas, he couldn't even use self-heal so he required immediate medical attention.
After all, that's why he was on his way to the infirmary in the first place.
Moreover, using his gift, especially for extended periods as he did during his duel with Lucas, strained Nero's life force significantly.
Although he could now stand after receiving some treatment from the medics, he could only do so barely and he couldn't even move freely.
The thought of fighting a squad of elite noble vampires, let alone a high-vampire, was unimaginable in his current state so he didn't even entertain it for more than a single second.
As if waiting for him to come to this realization on his own, the high-vampire shifted his blood-red eyes towards Nero and grinned in a bone-chilling manner, sending shivers down the spine.
In a raspy, blood-curdling voice, he bared his fangs and hummed, "Aha! There you are!"
Damn, it looked like things had taken a turn from bad to worse.
Nero didn't know what high-vampire's meant by that, but one thing was clear: the high-vampire recognized him.
Was Nero that high-vampire's target? And if so, why?
Nero had little time to muse over such questions.
Why? Because just as he was done deciphering the high-vampire's intentions, the bloodsucker started moving in their direction with dreadfully slow, eerie steps.
Almost at that moment, Elijah's desperate shout also reached Nero's ears along with several beasteal screeches of the other vampires rushing at them from the other side.
"What should we do?!" Elijah asked, looking at Nero for directions.
However, Nero was as lost as the guy next to him. He didn't have any idea of what he should do to escape this perilous situation.
They were ensnared in a pincer. In front of them was the high-vampire and behind them were his minions, comparatively less but almost equally as dangerous to them as their leader.
Nero cast a glance around and looked at the audience stand. There, cadets were trying to hold their ground against the unexpected attack.
Despite thousands of cadets present here and only a handful of vampires, the cadets seemed to be on the losing side for two reasons:
Firstly, it was already night. The vampires, much like any other dark elemental magic users, were terrifyingly stronger in the veil of night.
They could disappear into shadows and mold darkness into tangible constructs and cast a thousand more spells like that.
Secondly, there seemed to be two more high-vampires aside from the one blocking the path of Nero's group.
They were the ones fighting the cadets, holding them back with a bit of trouble but still proving to be successful in their endeavors.
After the initial few surprised kills, the vampires did not manage to take many cadets. The first-year cadets were fighting hand-in-hand with the second-years.
Each time a vampire succeeded in taking down a cadet, three more would appear in their brethren's place, protecting their fallen comrades and continuing their attack on the monstrosities.
From the looks of it, the cadets would eventually be defeated by the vampires but right now, both sides were locked in a fragile equilibrium.
However, this balance was soon going to be tipped.
Nero shot his head right and looked at the VIP stand. He could already see several silhouettes jumping down the concrete structure and running to assist their compatriots.
There were third-year cadets and several instructors. Nero knew in a matter of seconds, Liz would join them here.
It meant that they only had to stall for a few seconds and then they would be saved.
Okay, with that settled, all he had to do was take command and everything would be fine.
Command…
As that word echoed in Nero's mind, he whipped his head to gaze across the field and found himself involuntarily searching for a certain young man.
As if to assist him, a rich, calm voice shot out in the air, as if defying the very nature of chaos that was filling the atmosphere.
"Anastasia, take a stand next to Amelia and fire at will! All the front-line fighters present here in the field, instantly assume a defensive circular position around our archers! All the mid-range fighters, protect your comrades!"
All the heads turned to the source of the voice. It was a lean young man with snowy silver hair and shining red eyes that looked almost as ominous as that of the vampires around them yet somehow infinitely more hypnotizing.
Half of the young man's face was covered with his own hair, with his eyes peeking through the strands of the silver curtain. He locked his gaze with Nero as they both shared a look for a few seconds.
With a bit of reluctance, Nero nodded and heeded the young Morningstar's command with starwalt determination.
