"There's another group up ahead!"

Lycoris had expected to face some form of resistance on the way to the hospital. And she hadn't been wrong; her group faced many more encounters with Whispers. And while none of them had the same impact as the centipedes' ambush or the march of the "flesh-takers," they ended up just as dangerous across the wide variety of encounters they did face. At the very least, they hadn't seen any more of the towering and eerie spider-whales.  Strangely, the Whispers that Lycoris's group of shelter-dwellers did encounter treated them as almost a distraction, or an unwanted element intruding on their business. Like one group in particular, a series of large and flat pancake-shaped Whispers, that were busy attempting to sort themselves into a trio of evenly-tapered towers.  Except once one of the civilians from the group stepped too close—curiosity getting the best of him—the pancakes immediately abandoned their tower-stacking and revved up, charging into the group of survivors like a pack of loosed wheels snapped off a car. Though, thanks to some quick thinking and shooting on Bolte's part, the majority of the group was able to avoid being mowed down as they ducked behind a billboard he shot down. And thanks to Lycoris's strength, it served as a ramp for several of the wheel-Whispers to hurtle off of and rip through the building behind them instead of running them down.  After paying their respects to those who weren't quick enough, the group moved on.

Though they faced many more dangers, the next most notable thing Lycoris's group came across a massive willow tree made of steel, with sparkling cables dangling from its boughs. They were forced to detour around it, as several palm-sized buzzing Whispers treated it as their nest and looked none too friendly.  While she was keeping an eye on the hive, Lycoris saw one of the cables whip out and snap around a regular bird that innocently tried to land on it, before curling it up and dropping the crushed body into its trunk like some sort of nightmarish, carnivorous plant.  Fortunately, it didn't sprout legs and chase after them, but by the time the last of the civilians had crossed by, Lycoris could've sworn that it was closer to their side of the street than the opposite.

The sight of that bizarre iron tree devouring the bird left her feeling queasy, until Bolte's shout pulled her out of her funk.  Lycoris snapped her attention forward, where barreling down the street was a massive four-legged Whisper with great bladed tusks and a long coiled trunk ending in a sharp syringe. Chasing it from behind were several other Whispers with a humanoid appearance, though some of them had what looked like harpoon guns instead of arms. They shot wildly, just as many projectiles zipping past the massive beast as striking it, with the rest heading toward Lycoris's group.  She raised her hand to try and summon… something, anything. But nothing came to mind, and no whips erupted from her hands. She couldn't do anything about the javelins already arcing downward onto them, but at the very least she could bring down the mammoth before it trampled everyone into paste.

"Incoming! Take cover!" Bolte bellowed.  "Eeek!"  "Augh!"  "Cawww!"

People raised their shields, to little effect. The projectiles were too sharp, and barbed at that, causing horrific injury to whomever they struck. Others broke formation once more and fled toward a dilapidated building nearby, while Lycoris and Mira charged toward the colossal Whisper.

Before she ended up too far from the rest, Lycoris called back. "Stay out in the open! Don't let them drive you into an ambush inside any unchecked buildings!"

She couldn't rule out the possibility that this was a setup to try and drive them apart. The Whispers had already proven intelligent enough to divide and conquer, after all.  Lowering her scythe as though to scoop something off the ground, Lycoris passed right by the behemoth and felt two gentle tugs. As the pursuing bipedal Whispers drew close, she clenched her hands and prepared to intercept… but accompanying a harsh metallic crash and robotic wail, they all froze in place.  Then, they "cheered."

`Hooray.`  `The creature is felled.`  `Now is our chance.`  `We shall feast tonight.`

Lowering their weapons, the Whispers uttered their odd canned lines as they rushed past a confused Lycoris as though she wasn't even there, and swarmed the fallen behemoth.  Coming to a halt atop Mira, she released the tension in her shoulders and watched them celebrate like they and the massive creature were the only things in the world. Some of them stabbed the massive Whisper in the neck to finish it off after Lycoris's destabilizing strike to its legs, and then they proceeded to strip the metal from it methodically.  Lycoris circled back around to the group, giving the Whispers a wide berth and keeping one eye on them as she approached the gradually regrouping civilians.

"What in the world are they doing?" she asked a frowning Bolte.  He stared at the proceedings for a while, before carefully slinging his rifle and crossing his arms. "Hunting, from the looks of it."  "They completely ignored me and ran up to the big one. Do you think we can sneak by without having to fight?"  "There's not that many, we could take them out fairly quickly," he noted.  "Why wouldn't we!? Those… Those fuckers killed Diana!" One of the Vampires roughly paced forward and shouted at the two of them as they discussed what to do.

Lycoris hesitated. They were undoubtedly abominations, strange machine-based life that had assaulted the city and killed hundreds, if not thousands. But they were also… alive. Maybe.  She rested her scythe across Mira's back and rubbed her cheek with a frown, much to the dismay of the bird, as he cawed from the heavy and chilly orichalcum implement laying on him. She could understand the civilians' desire for revenge, but if the Whispers were alive and capable of feeling, it'd only make them liable to take revenge in turn; if they weren't alive, then it'd be a meaningless gesture, like throwing a tantrum and shattering a toy horse because it knocked over a family heirloom. Plus, it would potentially draw more Whispers either way, and would exhaust the already-weary people.  Or, she could cut them down herself, but… watching them, she didn't… want to.

With a sigh, Lycoris shook her head. "No. We slip past while they're distracted and don't care about us. There's no sense wasting time here."  "But…!"  "There will be time enough later, once we've gotten the injured to safety. We still have to reclaim the city, after all."

She flashed a calming smile, stunning the Vampire as their cheeks darkened purple. Athena's words echoed in her mind, something about her looks being dangerous, but she pushed the thought aside.

"We'll handle it like the 'tree.' I'll stay between us and them, and you guide everyone past, Bolte."  "Understood, Your Highness!"

Flashing her the Tenebreimen salute, he relayed her instructions to the group and began moving them around the massive beast. There were cries of dissent, calling for blood… or, oil… and an unfortunate few had steel javelins stabbed into them, either incapable or reticent to move forward. The survivors—those who had raised their shields and dulled the impact of the blow—didn't have deep injuries, but the serrated speartips meant they couldn't be pulled out carelessly. They had to move carefully, and they couldn't lower or relocate their shields without tearing their injuries.  But Lycoris couldn't afford to waste time out in the open, and she didn't have a solution besides. She didn't know healing magic; that was an art reserved for only the most noble souls that had received the Goddess's direct blessing and served in the Kingdom's Churches—the Houses of Healing within them, more specifically.

…I wonder what other races do? And… It's not like all Vampires have the same sort of regeneration that Mama and I do, she thought to herself, thinking of poor Vanessa in the arms of Gier behind her.

Keeping her eyes on the Whispers harvesting their fallen quarry, Lycoris permitted her thoughts to roam, if only slightly.

On that note, what do they even do for religion? I've never considered it before, but I don't even fully understand what the 'Ancestors' are, but it's clear that Vampires treat them with reverence. Maybe it's some polytheistic pagan pantheon? But I haven't seen a single cathedral yet… Varilas certainly seems enthusiastic about his spirituality, maybe I should try asking him? Though, given how he looks at me, I'm not sure that I'd get a good answer.

"I suppose… I'll have to ask Mama, if I get the chance to speak to her again…"  "*ahem* We have finished moving the last of the survivors past, Your Highness."

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.  "HwuhaaAH!?"  "Kwargh!"

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Gier's voice right behind her, her startlement causing Mira to be caw in equal astonishment. Thankfully he didn't immediately bolt, being a surprisingly well-trained myrh—according to Cecily.  Hopefully, the Fangchaser hadn't heard her mutterings to herself. The thought of someone who had a milquetoast at best opinion of her hearing her talk about her mother like a… a little child, was a mortifying thought. She noticed that Vanessa was no longer in his arms, which prompted her to look around… except everyone had already moved on.

"Good… work, but what happened to Vanessa?"  "…"  "…Gier?"  "Y-Yes, Your Highness?"  "I… did you miss my question?" she tilted her head, wrinkling her eyebrows.  The man looked clearly anxious, as though she'd just placed a curse upon his soul. "Yes! I mean, no! Or… I mean, she regained consciousness and is moving on her own."

He rushed back toward the group nearly as fast as Mira jogged ahead of the pack.  Not a single one of the "hunters" bothered them, leaving the girl feeling like she'd solved a puzzle more than dealt with an enemy force. But as she heard the muffled and subdued cries of those who'd lost loved ones or were wounded because of her inadequacy, she didn't find it particularly satisfying.

＊　＊　＊

Peeking over the counter of an abandoned market stall, Lycoris frowned.  Beside her was a crouched down Bolte, and further back hiding around the corner were the rest of the civilians and vanguard, bundled together and either whimpering, unconscious, or patiently waiting. They lost a couple more to bleeding out from injuries, regrettably, and the group had been whittled down to just twenty able-bodied individuals. Cecily and Vanessa were still okay—though the older sister looked rather shaken even after confirming her little sister was safe. That said, nearly everyone was in low spirits.  Nobody actively blamed Lycoris, but she still felt as though she had failed them. And ahead of her was their worst challenge yet:  Crowded around, filling the streets and walkways and even some of the nearby buildings looming and watching, Whispers all swarmed around a tall building with its lighting still on, the "backup generator" rumbling under the din of random lines of dialogue being spewed out by any Whisper with a voice box.  There had to be at least two hundred, if not more.

On the "bright" side, there were few enough people remaining that everyone was able to arm themselves in some capacity… but many of them weren't the most capable. Those who could aim and shoot were invaluable, but Lycoris wasn't sure she could fight off this many Whispers while keeping everyone safe. She wasn't even sure she could cut through them and make it to the hospital on her own.  There were humanoid types—many with the horrifying fleshy decorations.  There were tall and lanky four-legged ones, with weird droopy necks and bulbous round heads.  There were ones that looked like the Razorangs that prowled the forests north of Lycoris's old home.  Some had wings and could fly, though they circled over the horde rather than near the windows—it looked as though some had tried to get through before, but the windows had been barricaded and damaged "birds" stuck out of them as a warning.  The impression they gave was a mob on the verge of rioting, rather than an army preparing to siege.

Though Lycoris had yet to be detected, it was clear these Whispers were more interested in the Hospital as a source of mana than whatever else the ones she'd encountered prior were, which meant it was only a matter of time.  But what made these Whispers so different from the others? Despite being in a larger mass, they seemed less coordinated. Or, maybe they were coordinated in a different way, their individual wills overwritten with a unified goal of getting into the hospital.

"What do you think, Your Highness?" Bolte whispered beside her.  Lycoris crouched down and rested her back against the cart, the cold metal sending a shiver up her spine where it touched the holes in her blouse. "I'm not sure. I might be able to break through on my own, but they'd have to know to barricade the inside again right away. And more importantly…"  "The rest of us wouldn't be able to keep up with you," the Fangchaser grimaced.  "I… do not know if I can deal with all of them. Plus, there's always the chance more might show up, or they'll encounter our survivors from behind and…" she trailed off, hugging her knees.  Bolte stared, confused and slightly nervous. "Surely you could go and cut them all down like before, n-no?"  "Huh? I don't… think I'm that good. I would consider myself a novice at best with a scythe still. I haven't bested mother even once yet."  "But you…!" Bolte nearly shouted, before calming himself. "You cut down like, a hundred of them earlier though."  "I wasn't in a right state of mind then!" she hissed back. "I'm not sure how I did that…"

The two of them fell into silence, the commotion from the horde behind her serving as a backdrop to Lycoris's contemplation.

Should I try to draw them away? Would they even abandon the hospital to chase after me? Mm… If they're actually just as smart as what we've faced until now, then they might figure out what I'm up to. Am I a higher priority target than a backup generator? Mmgh, there's too many unknowns here. What would Mizar…

She felt her confidence in herself plummet, the intel she had on her opponent had proven to be sorely lacking, and she found herself returning to her old habit of beseeching the locket.  Only, Mizar had never been forced to lead an army before. A hero he was, but he acted as an individual with a small team, not as a grand, sweeping leader. He could have inherited the Kingdom, potentially; but that wasn't the sort of person he was, much to Princess Fawaris's dismay.  Lycoris had been treating the people with her as a burden to protect, something to keep as far out of harm's way as possible, and that had… gone poorly. No matter how she tried to sort them, what distance she kept them away, there were always Whispers ready to pick them off, or catch them in the crossfire.  Mizar couldn't help her with this, and while she had trained him originally, her skillset was ultimately different from his, so then…

What would… Mama do? I'm more like her than I am Mizar now, I guess. Technically.

She looked up at the waning moon high overhead, and let out a small sigh. She covered her face with her hands, frowning internally at her own frustration with her emotional baggage. This wasn't the time to worry over such things, she needed a course of action!  Pulling her hands away, she found herself staring at her own palms, and inspiration struck. There wasn't a trace of injury left on her right palm, and she recalled her mother's macabre words from months prior, when Lycoris first became a Vampire.

'…truthfully, we might survive being decapitated, though it would undoubtedly be a maddeningly painful experience.'

Lycoris shivered. She would rather not test that, or even limit-test her regenerative powers at all. But if she was undoubtedly their strongest combat asset, and if she could keep all of the Whispers' attention focused on herself…

She turned to Bolte and spoke in an urgent whisper, "Do you know if anyone has a fear of heights here?"  "Huh?"  "I think I've figured out how we'll break this siege."

＊　＊　＊

The remaining survivors were gathered inside of a large abandoned office space, paperwork and computer monitors and supplies littering the floors and few desks that remained standing. The lights were obviously non-functional, and shards of glass littered the floor—though most of it had been swept into a neat pile and tossed into a trash bin to clean the floor for their use.  Those who were left had all armed themselves either with the guns they had left, the makeshift iron spears, or the actual adamantine javelins the Whispers had hurled into them. Some were still slick with red or blue blood, a grim reminder of their new weapons had cost them. They used their wooden shields and the desks to barricade the windows, creating embrasures for them to shoot through.

Cecily and Vanessa remained further back, with the people too injured to wield a weapon or fight. When Vanessa had initially awoken, she took the pipe out of Cecily's hands, chastised her for her recklessness, and nearly passed back out on the spot. Her recovery was far quicker than anyone—aside from Cecily, it seemed—had expected. Her wounds were nearly completely healed, and she insisted they were just shallow cuts to begin with.

Gier was among those with handguns—some scavenged from the guard's office on the bottom floor—and observed Lycoris outside on the ground. The Princess said she was taking a risk, separating herself from them, but Gier felt otherwise. They'd be safer in a fortified position, and as insane as her plan sounded, he couldn't deny that it would probably work, after bearing witness to her earlier performance. Plus, he understood that she must have had a horrible chip on her shoulder, with who her mother was, and how many lives had been taken because his mother had been too obstinate for her own good.  As he sighed, Bolte glanced over from his nearby post, ready to give orders and call out targets. He was there to ensure that none of the aerial Whispers made it to them, and otherwise make the call on how best to provide covering fire for Lycoris.

And Varilas—who had against everyone's expectations survived this long despite his injured arm and headwound—watched everyone working with quiet contemplation once more. He remained with the green-haired sisters and his fellow injured civilians, drumming his fingers and letting his frustrations stew…

Everyone was in position and ready to act, and a hushed silence fell upon them as they waited for their princess to give the signal.

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