The streets were empty. There were no vampires anywhere. He would find them when he entered abandoned houses with open doors. They stood or lay there with pale faces and closed eyes. Motionless. After the dead had killed each other and the artifacts had been taken by the Necromancer, their mission for the night was complete.
The palace doors stood open. No one guarded them. When the Cursed stepped into a great hall, he saw that countless dead covered the floor all the way to the far walls. A passage lay ahead in the darkness. He went toward it, stepping between the dead. Suddenly, one of the bodies stirred. It was a girl, pale, with traces of decay. She reached out to him with a pale hand.
"If you are here to kill the Necromancer, there is only one way," she rasped. "Other methods of killing will not work. Many have already tried, including me. Now you can see the results of our efforts. So listen carefully to what I learned after I became a dead servant of the Necromancer.
In the dungeons of the palace, dark creatures from another world are imprisoned. The Necromancer came from there and does not want to return, because certain death awaits him there. Kill the dark creatures and bring the artifact that remains after them to the throne hall of the palace. Then a portal to the Necromancer's world will open and drag him back there."
The dead girl pressed her face against the floor and fell silent.
The entrance to the dungeons lay in the far rooms of the first floor. Stone steps led downward. They brought the Cursed to a place where large dark figures were chained to the walls. When they fixed their gaze on the one who entered, their eyes burned with red light. The Cursed stood up in the middle of the chamber. The dark figures reached toward him with their limbs, trying to seize him and tear him apart.
Dark streams of smoke emerged from the Cursed and rushed toward the chained prisoners. They pierced them; the figures shuddered, but remained alive. Their movements slowed, yet they continued trying to reach him. He drew his sword and moved through their ranks, cutting off the head of each dark creature. As he did so, an artifact began to form in the dungeon. A bright light radiated from it. When the last head had been severed, the Cursed took the artifact and left the dungeon.
He ascended the stone staircase floor by floor until he reached the throne hall. In the twilight, the dark figure of the Necromancer sat upon the throne. Many artifacts stood and lay on the floor of the throne hall. The Necromancer sat with his eyes closed, possibly absorbed in his magical visions.