The terrain was not even, something that for once was a good thing. He and his small squad crouched behind bushes, eyeing the rocky ledge ahead of them. It led to the field that preceded their position, which was concealed.

His grey eyes narrowed below his hand, which he had raised to glance at the sun above. It was slowly descending, every minute feeling like an hour. He could feel the tension around him, only he trusting their gambit.

His troops were never as patient as him; they only followed his orders and commands because they had to. At first, most wondered why they were assigned to follow a captain such as him. Most officials were imposing, fierce-looking, and strong. Yet he did not look like a soldier; perhaps he was not weak, but he was slender and usually reticent in his manners.

To this day, they still did not like him much, but at least they had come to know why he was a captain. They had seen him act, and few officials kept a low casualty count. One year, and he had not only kept himself alive, but more soldiers than others. His lead was unconventional but efficient.

Bastian sighed, smiling slightly as darkness began to loom over everything. Shadows engulfed them, the trees, and the ledge ahead. He gave one last glance to the field ahead and then stood silently, holding his trusty weapon. With his crossbow in hand, he sneaked ahead alone, his reluctance hidden inside. Once he crossed the meadow, he climbed the ledge, to stand high above.

What he saw up there made him shiver, but not cower. He took a shaky breath, seeing his enemies gather at the feet of the hill, not too far. The vampires stood out of their hiding spots, walking away from the surrounding trees, surely having lurked under their shade for hours. Both sides had waited for the sun to set, not daring approach until now. Vampires always hid in the day, but they would always come out at night to hunt and kill.

Bastian took a step back, seeing the beasts open their claws and fix their hungry gazes on him. He was out in the open, in plain sight, alone. The fear was evident in his eyes, because he was easy prey at the moment. The monsters knew that other humans roamed, but as well that they were not many. This region was under vampiric rule, it was foolish to venture into it. Humans were enslaved and kept in chains; any that dared roam free would only find a horrifying demise, mere prey.

Bastian had dared wander these parts for weeks, scouting. He had avoided death, for now. The vampires finally bolted downhill for him, dashing with their claws bared. With a gasp, he quickly turned and retreated, almost as fast as them.

His hands shook as he reached for his belt, a small bag tied there, full of ammunition for his crossbow. The beasts were laughing while they chased him, seeing him run back for the ledge. In their amused pursuit, they saw him fumble with a small flask, which they disregarded in their bloodlust and arrogance.

While he ran, he did not dare look back. He knew very well they could get him if he faltered for just a second. It was something he always kept in mind. He was fast to jump off the ledge, rolling onto the ground below with a huff. When he got to his feet, the vampires were already at the edge, sneering down at him.

They cackled, seeing him try to run for the bushes and trees past the field. Their eyes sharpened more, lost in their hunger. Hunting scared prey always made them more feral. And so, they jumped with loud snarls, following close. They had him near. And yet, they did not notice his cunning smile, glad to hear them jump down with him.

The chase did not last for much longer. Bastian suddenly slammed his feet on the ground, stopping dead on his tracks. The vampires would be on him in two seconds; he was at reach, one beast was ready to pounce on him. They did not lunge, however. The only thing they did was halt and hiss, because he broke an oil flask onto the loaded bolt of his crossbow and turned sharply; he pointed his weapon at them, a flaming shot ready.

Bastian glared nervously, while the vampires tensed and stared furiously. A minute passed, in which the beasts kept still, to be ready to dodge the flaming shot. But he was not shooting, he just kept pointing at them. Such reluctance made them relax, even laugh upon his supposed attempt at keeping them away. There was only one bolt, and if he fired, he would be a dead man.

With that thought, they took a step closer, showing their fangs in their sneers. And that blind move and approach were just what he wanted, to have them closer. He suddenly whistled. All vampires blinked when his small squad stood from the bushes behind him, with their own arrows ready. As they jolted in surprise, he snorted and nodded down.

“Look at your feet.”

They did. Their expressions soon lost their dignity and might, as they realized what the humans had spread on the field during the day. They finally noticed the oil on the ground, too focused on the scent of prey to have sensed it before.

Vampires always underestimated him, considering him nothing else than a weakling. They were wrong, because he was a mad weakling. It was an important distinction, and their mistake would be costly.

The beasts had no time to move away. Bastian finally shot, but not at them. He fired at their feet, lowering his crossbow sharply. He jumped backwards when the bolt made contact, because it made the ground burst in flames.

A blinding blaze grew in just a second and lighted the night. Even if Bastian had recoiled, he still needed to shield his eyes. The closer the beasts had been to him, the worse burns they got. Many fell at his feet in a wild amalgamation of flames, screeches and agonizing flails. The ones that had not been close enough tried to flee; they were burned as well, but not enough to crumble. Their skin ached, even if it had not touched the flames. They struggled to run for the ledge, and when they reached it, they did not find it easy to climb. The heat was dazing, painful. They looked like animals, all far too scared to act rationally.

Bastian looked away from such pitiful sight, because his men would do the rest. They fired arrows with their bows, which pierced most vampires squarely. Some were pinned against the ledge with the shots, and a few were unlucky enough to survive it, left at the mercy of the growing fire.

Even though the vampires had been more in numbers, they had been outsmarted. Only two of those monsters managed to climb up the ledge, escaping being killed like the rest. Nevertheless, Bastian had already loaded another bolt, and did notice them running. He took aim and shot. In a second, a pained hiss echoed from the darkness ahead. One fell down dead, but the other evaded him. He snarled, hearing the unmistakable sound of an angered growl and clawed feet dashing away. His grey eyes could not see through the shadows, and his attempts at spotting its figure were in vain. A beast escaped them, and it truly bothered him.

“Goddammit.”

His squad did not share his frustration. Most of his men had walked onto the field, and now were laughing down at the vampires who still agonized in the fire. They were letting them burn alive. Bastian glared, loading another bolt as he noticed a vampire trying to crawl out of a blaze, torturous burns all over its body. It was not dead yet. His hate was passionate and he wanted them all to die, but…

The soldiers groaned in disappointment when he shot that beast down. It let out one last gasp and then fell limp, not to move again. The bolt struck precisely and with intent, allowing a quick death.

Bastian ignored the yells and complaints that were sent his way. He just walked off, eyeing the ground to make sure no other monster was moving. His squad disliked how he would never allow for prolonged retribution, unlike other officials.

He loathed vampires, but he would not be as cruel as them. Death was not something he enjoyed, even if he should find it fulfilling. He would never get used to it, no matter how much he saw it.

Time would not heal him. One year had passed, and he had lost count of how many he had brought down. It did not make him feel any closure.

——————-

The vampire hissed, holding his side in pain. His eyes were fixed on the distance, desperately. He could see something, which only made him try harder to stay awake, reach safety.

Even if his kind could heal quickly, burns would always negate that aptitude. Flames were the worst wound a vampire could endure; heat was one of the few things that rendered them weaker than a human.

He kept dragging his feet forward, his fangs showing in his pained huffs. His claw raised up, as shaky as his limping steps. There were banners ahead, another clan. He let out a trembling whisper, so faint that he was not sure he voiced it at all.

“Help…“

His vision finally darkened. The last things he saw were sharp gleams in the dark, figures approaching him. Many jade eyes looked down at his fainted figure, silently and cautiously. They only parted to make way for their sire, who halted with a proud stance upon the lone vampire. The second in command beckoned a medic silently, to aid the wounded. The burns were examined, and the next words made their lord scowl knowingly.

“This can only have been done by one thing, sire.”

There was a slow nod. Those huge claws clenched, hinting the anger and fury their sire felt.

“The reports of rebels venturing deeper into our lands were not rumours, as I foretold.”

They had left their own land to deal with it, personally, knowing they had to. Their enemy was daring to venture more into vampiric territory, and it could soon be problematic for their clan. Such defiance could not be tolerated. This allied region could be the first to fall, preceding others. They would end this nonsense before it worsened and reached their own people.

For months they had heard that a group of rebels roamed, causing trouble of all kinds. Resources had been stolen, valuable materials had been burned, and souls had been ended. Each move had been carefully planned, and the insurgents always kept themselves hidden after every attack.

Their clan never sent troops out of vampire territory and against human land; she was not as violent as other lords. But if the insurgents dared venture into their homelands and steal what was theirs… she would not doubt to force them away. Perhaps wipe them off the map.

A sigh escaped her, seeing her brethren take the wounded to safety, carefully and expertly. Her green eyes closed, hating the sight of singed flesh.

If one knew well what fire could do, it was her.

———–

Bastian had been calm. He really had been, until one of his soldiers ran towards him uphill, coming from the fields ahead.

“Sir!”

He never liked to see them run like that, breathless and urgent. It was never a good sign. Still, he sighed and stopped caressing the mane of his horse, to face the man as he reached their small camp. The soldier halted sharply at his side and tried to speak between tired intakes of breath.

“C-captain, I saw-”

Bastian shook his head, raising a hand to try to ease his restlessness, even if he was beginning to be nervous as well.

“Breathe first. Wait and-”

“N-no!” It could not wait, not even if the sun still loomed high. “No sir, I have seen vampires roaming nearby, east from here!”

Bastian crossed his arms, looking back at the rest of his squad. They were resting under the shade of the woods, fairly tired, having explored all around. He expressed his worry after a moment, frowning.

“That should not be. We have killed many these past days, the area has been quite secure and-“

“They are not simple inhabitants. The vampires I’ve seen are not part of the clan of this region.” The next words forced him to ponder fast, like every time fear sunk in his heart. “Another lord has ventured into this land, surely to aid the local vampires. They are well-armed, sir! I’ve seen them, settled near a village. It should not take them more than a day to reach our position.”

It was obvious that those vampires would head towards them, because the most obvious place for a rebel to hide in was the forest. And so, he nodded slowly, whispering quietly and eerily.

“Thanks for reporting back…” He looked away grimly, raising a hand to his forehead. “You are dismissed, I need to think.”

The soldier saluted reluctantly and walked away towards the others, leaving him to ponder. He would need to give orders, and soon. They needed to confront those reinforcements, somehow.

Bastian glared at the distant fields, knowing what was to come. It would not be the first time his presence angered the inhabitants of a region enough for him to be considered a menace, something bothersome enough to warrant the aid of other clans.

The clan that ruled here was very small, only having a few villages under control. But still, those beasts were enough in numbers to put up a fight against their incursions, make it hard for the rebellion to seize the border. Enough time had passed, and so, a stronger lord had noticed their doings. They were a pest that needed to be taken care of.

It happened before, and it was never good. He had lost many men in those situations; they were the most dreadful times he could remember as a captain. But he had made it out alive every time, somehow.

Bastian looked all around, analyzing once more his surroundings. They would face many more foes in the next encounter, more than they had before. When vampires tired and recognized them as a threat, they would stop leaving the fight to fledglings, and send their best instead. They would push away most of their arrogance, and take them seriously. They would soon have to endure a real battle.

There were no rivers near the fields he could redirect. Even if there were any, they did not have time to set any blockage. Fleeing was not an option; if they tried to do so, they would reveal their location out in the open, with no way to fool those vicious sharp senses. Those beasts were faster and tired less, and only he had a horse. They would be slaughtered in a far worse spot than these woods.

The forest offered shadows in which to conceal their presence, just a slight advantage. As well, there were wheat fields ahead. Knowing all that, the only thing he could do was wait. He would have to prepare himself for an uneven fight, in which he would have to use the best thing he had: his cunning thoughts.

Vampires always underestimated humans, considering their unholy race much more fierce and clever. He knew that well, and so, an idea was already building up in his mind. He let down his hand from his hair and bit his lip, staring at the wheat ahead.

“Looks like I will have to follow your ways, Lyssa.”

Fire was destructive, but effective. He did not enjoy the idea of burning resources they could seize for the benefit of their people, but he had no choice. His troops looked up from the campfire they sat around when stepped closer. Like many other times, there was a sly smile on his face as he spoke up to them all.

“Get up. We have to set things up before the sun goes down. Or we will instead.”

They obeyed, rather frustratedly, contrasting greatly his fast decided steps. He began to work too in his ploy, much more hurriedly and intently. There was never a moment in his life in which his mind was quiet.

Soon, they grabbed barrels of oil and broke them on the fields of wheat. The fire that would rise would be far more intense than any other they invoked, at the cost of the crops they had wished to keep.

They would be ready to light the night, to bring down the beasts that would hunt them.