Player Chapter 17. Not Vampires
Warm radiance poured over him.
[Buff Applied: Saint Blessing]
[Speed +150%]
[ATK +150%]
[M.ATK +150%]
[DEF +150%]
His muscles responded immediately, strength surging through limbs.
He grinned. "Thanks."
Then his expression sharpened again.
"Focus on the injured," he said calmly. "I'll handle this."
She hesitated for half a second. Then nodded.
Trust. Again.
He stepped forward.
And lunged.
The world didn't slow down. It sharpened. Every scream stretched thinner, every movement clearer, every drop of blood catching the light like it was part of a stage he hadn't realized he'd been waiting for.
His boots hit the dirt, splashing through dark, sticky patches of what used to be people, and something inside his chest stirred, not panic, not fear, something colder. Familiar. Comfortable. He hated how natural it felt.
[Summoned: Twin Daggers]
Mana condensed in his palms, cold and smooth like liquid glass. The blades formed instantly, thin, curved, almost elegant. He rolled his wrists once, feeling the weight and stepped into the fray. The first feral vampire leapt at him on all fours, claws reaching, mouth open in a soundless snarl.
Riven pivoted. Not a dodge, a dance. He shifted his hips just enough for the creature to miss by inches, then drove one dagger upward through its jaw. The blade pierced through the roof of its mouth, and he twisted. The motion wasn't necessary. It never was. But it looked better. Blood sprayed across his cheek, warm, metallic, and he didn't flinch.
Another came from the left, slower, smarter. Upright. This one held a blade, not mana, not shadow, steel. It moved like it had been trained, not just turned. Riven's eyes flicked over the stance, the footwork, the micro-shift of balance before the strike. Predictable.
He stepped in instead of back. His dagger caught the opponent's wrist, redirecting the swing, then his knee drove up into its ribs. The sound of bone cracking under impact vibrated up his leg, satisfying in a way he didn't want to unpack. The vampire staggered, and Riven followed, pressing forward, blade sliding across its throat in one smooth arc. He held eye contact as it fell, watching the moment the light faded.
He exhaled slowly, grounding himself.
'Don't enjoy it too much.'
Behind him, Elena's voice rose in prayer, soft but steady. Light bloomed, washing over the wounded, her presence like a second heartbeat in the chaos. He didn't look back. He didn't need to. But he felt it, the warmth, the trust, the quiet belief that he would hold the line.
A cluster of feral ones rushed him together, more beast than anything else, and he smiled faintly.
"Mana Manifestation. Ice."
[Summoned: Ice Spear]
He thrust his hand forward, and cold answered. A jagged spear of ice formed mid-air and shot forward, impaling two creatures in one brutal line. He didn't stop moving. He never stopped moving. One step, spin, the second dagger flashing out to slice tendons, dropping another to its knees before he finished it with a downward stab that split skull from brow.
Blood painted the ice beneath his boots.
He moved like he knew someone was watching.
Because someone was.
Elena caught glimpses of him between bursts of healing light, the way he turned just before an attack landed, the way his coat flared behind him, the way his expression stayed almost… bored. Not cruel. Not gleeful. Controlled. But every so often, when he thought no one saw, there was something darker in his eyes. Something that didn't belong to a hero.
And that should have scared her.
It didn't.
Riven slid low under a swipe, daggers crossing to deflect, then came up inside the enemy's guard. His shoulder hit the vampire's chest, knocking it off balance, and he used the momentum to drive both blades upward through its ribcage. He twisted again, a flourish, then kicked the body away like it was nothing.
He was aware of his breathing, of the rhythm of his heart, of the way adrenaline hummed through his veins like a second system. The fight wasn't hard. That was the problem. He wanted it to be harder. He wanted someone to push back. He wanted…
Focus.
A wave of heat erupted to his right. Fire. He turned sharply, cloak snapping with the motion, and saw one of the intelligent vampires raising its hand, flames coiling around its arm like a living thing.
"That's illegal," he muttered.
[Summoned: Water Shield]
A wall of water burst from the ground in front of him, steam hissing as the fire collided with it. The impact sent droplets flying, catching the light in a brief, glittering halo. Riven stepped through the mist, emerging like something out of a story he wasn't sure he wanted to be in.
He moved fast. Too fast for normal eyes. His daggers struck low, severing tendons, then high, opening arteries. The vampire tried to counter, but Riven was already behind it, blade sliding across the back of its neck. He leaned close as it collapsed, voice barely above a whisper.
"I know you aren't a vampire."
His mana dipped, the faintest ache blooming at the base of his skull, but he ignored it. The battlefield thinned around him, bodies littering the ground like broken dolls. Dozens had come. Most were already down.
He paused, just for a second, standing in the center of the carnage. Blood soaked into the hem of his coat. Ice melted around his boots. The air smelled like iron and smoke and something else… something raw.
He felt… alive.
And he hated that part of himself.
A movement at the edge of his vision. He turned slowly, not rushing, letting the moment stretch. One remained. Intelligent. Watching him from a distance, calculating.
Riven tilted his head slightly.
The vampire realized he had been caught. He turned around and ran.
Riven extended his hand instead.
[Summoned: Frost Chain]
A chain of ice erupted from the ground, snapping forward like a striking serpent. It wrapped around the vampire's torso, locking its arms to its sides, frost spreading rapidly across its body. It struggled, fire flaring in protest, but the cold was faster.