41 Extermination and/or Subjugation

(A/N: This chapter is from Priska's POV. It's been a while, so for context in case you forget, she's in Romania on the front fighting the Vampires.)

My life is destined, I suppose, to involve grinding my molars in irritation, constantly wringing my hands at the behavior of egregiously uncivilized, impolite scullions and blackguards.

That is to say, the Vampire Front was about as vexatious as I had foreseen. These barbarians, surely, must be blind, to treat me as any common pauper or drudge… I deserve better than the treatment I am afforded, I simply know it.

Truly, these brutish Exorcists were incapable - and seemingly unwilling - to shift away from their churlish mannerisms. While I had yet to judge and find guilty the Vampire Slayers, would it be of any import, in the end?

No. I had an overbearing, uncouth mentor to enforce my misery; whether these Exorcists and Vampire Slayers were boors or refined gentlemen mattered little in terms of my disposition, what with that little morsel of information.

At the very least, I possessed a copy of Dracula to pass the time, as anyone formally assigned to this front was recommended to fetch a free copy of Stoker's work from the archives.

Most of these uncultured peons neglected to do so. To be fair, though, as is my nature, the novella 'Carmilla' was similarly endorsed, and I declined a copy - under justifiable grounds, however. It seemed like quite the bore.

Regardless, speaking of Dracula, the literature itself was only mildly congenial and a bit dull at times, but the amusement it allowed for in tandem with my surroundings was where its enjoyment truly resided. I unsheathed the compact paperback from my pocket, flipped to chapter fourteen in Mina Harker's journal, and read Abraham Van Helsing's description for about the third time this past half hour, glancing up once or twice.

'...a man of medium height, strongly built, with his shoulders set back over a broad, deep chest and a neck well balanced on the trunk as the head is on the neck. The poise of the head strikes me at once as indicative of thought and power. The head is noble, well-sized, broad, and large behind the ears. The face, clean-shaven, shows a hard, square chin, a large resolute, mobile mouth, a good-sized nose, rather straight, but with quick, sensitive nostrils, that seem to broaden as the big bushy brows come down and the mouth tightens.'

I flipped the page.

'The forehead is broad and fine, rising at first almost straight and then sloping back above two bumps or ridges wide apart, such a forehead that the reddish hair cannot possibly tumble over it, but falls naturally back and to the sides. Big, dark blue eyes are set widely apart and are quick and tender or stern with the man's moods.'

I returned to my poise, placing the book back in its resting place. Out of the corner of my eyes while ostensibly looking at a paper missive at the table, I cross-referenced the textual description with the man across the table from me.

Other than the man being of a hulking stature, larger than Ioann rather than of medium height, there were no discrepancies to be found. Who would think of being in the same room as the descendant and effective reincarnation of the world's greatest Vampire Slayer? Certainly not me. Until a few months prior, I had thought him to be a fictional character.

I nearly giggled at the absurdity of it all.

However, I did not wish to be flogged, and so, no exclamations of mirth escaped my lips. No outward signs of merriment cracked my still-stoic visage. My mentor was beside me, and if improper displays in private were ruthlessly penalized, what would transpire if anything such materialized during a top brass meeting, in front of his own mentor?

Retribution of a most harrowing nature, is what. And so, I inwardly sighed, resigning myself to staving off boredom - the ongoing strategic briefing was exceedingly uninteresting - through whatever internal means presented themselves.

I stood around a table, in a Romanian city, Timișoara, that we had 'repurposed' for the Church's usage. It made for a sufficient command base and garrison to hold the main army force after exterminating its Ghouls and banishing its Vampires, while the other battalions were stationed throughout the country. Their tasks were to divert the thousands of Ghouls wreaking havoc and to prevent further success in the Vampires' conquest.

My mentor, stout and stern, stood beside me at the corner of an excessively large, oaken workbench, originally used in a carpentry business' workshop before being dragged to the Timișoara Orthodox Cathedral for its sufficient length and width. Scrapes and cuts marred its coarse surface, though the abrasions were, for the most part, concealed by the various maps and reports littered about the table in orderly sections.

The room itself was filled with Exorcists in varying apparel - flowing robes, menacing armor, and other miscellaneous vestments of inferior taste - as well as Vampire Slayers, dressed in bloated crimson robes and, admittedly, charming suits. They lounged wherever they pleased throughout the colossal nave, but all listened to the ongoing meeting, many congregating around their superiors for a glimpse at the transcripts and other minutiae enveloping the worktop.

All of them were at least officers - Ufficiales, in the Church - in rank, with the Commendatores - Commanders - and Vampire Slayer equivalents being the ones actually strategizing at the table. There were two Grande Commendatores, though one was technically not in the Church at all and thus not subject to the title, each at one respective head of the rectangular table.

One was my mentor's own mentor, Cardinal Thelonious Abruzzese Tammurello, a quite diminutive man. He was only a head taller than I, at perhaps one hundred and seventy centimeters, with gray hair and wrinkles augmenting a severe face.

But his sooty eyes were alight with a piercing ardor, and his robes - an exquisite ruby, sufficiently enamoring to make the Vampire Slayers' uniforms seem to be mere costumes in comparison - instilled awe. Cristaldi and I stood to his right as adjutants and bodyguards, with Vasco Strada to his left, though he only held the latter title.

On the other side of the table was Sir Abraham Van Helsing - or at least, the Spirit Inheritor and Hero Descendant of the original Sir Abraham Van Helsing, the man to have vanquished the progenitor of Vampires, with the same name. Head of the Hellsing Organization, Overseer of the Vampire Slayers, Lightbearer. I paid no attention to his own assistants, focusing instead on Cardinal Thelonious' words.

"The Vampires have forsaken the laws of the supernatural, as we have all seen," Cardinal Thelonious stated, leaning forward with his hands on the table and sweeping his gaze from left to right. "They are much too craven to truly engage in battle with our forces, and so they plunder their own countryside. Across dozens of villages, men, women and children were transformed into Ghouls, who were then used to transform more and more. It is a scourge upon this land, and they went as far as to attempt taking over a major city like Timișoara - they would have succeeded, had we neglected proper reconnaissance."

Sir Van Helsing rapped his knuckles on the table, staring at our most recent map. "I suppose their ilk can never rise above such presumptuousness, thinking themselves able to march with impunity," he murmured, his voice gravelly and invoking a thoughtful intelligence. "Well… we must crush them decisively and swiftly, both so you Exorcist fellows may focus on the demons and so the Vampires never feel gradually cornered - such an outcome would be a damning catastrophe everywhere. Although it may not currently seem so when compared to the usually clandestine nature of supernatural conflicts, their current hordes of Ghouls exercise restraint. If they so wished, they could direct the zombies to rampage and feed all across the continents until they perish, distracting us with holding onto any remaining unblemished lands while Purebloods devastate our forces. We must go for the heart."

He stuck a wooden stake into the map, on a spot in the near middle of Romania.

"Sighișoara," he uttered, furrowing his brow. "The Tepes Faction resides there, and while the Carmilla Faction is normally in Styria, Austria, [1] they, for whatever reason, abandoned the region after you fellows and the Devils began using it as their battleground, traveling to Romania and stationing near or in Sighișoara. It was likely a suggestion - or command - on the Devils' part to work together, and they did, for about a week. The streak halted when they effectively made Romania their territory and when we all arrived. Now, we suspect that the reason they have not been as tenaciously expanding is because of conflicts in leadership," he recounted, only just now getting to the meat of the matter.

Until now, they had been discussing everything but the situation we were embroiled in!

Regardless, I had preemptively devoured all of the basic texts in my possession on the Vampires, and along with the information dispersed throughout this meeting, I would call myself knowledgeable on the matters of that race. The gist of the hatred between the two Factions is that several centuries ago, the two groups fiercely debated on whether their soon-to-be True Ancestor should be male or female. In the end, they simply split, with the Carmilla Faction being almost entirely female and with a female leader, while the Tepes Faction is largely male and with a male leader from the original Tepes line.

I have no opinions on it, other than disdain at the fact they foolishly halved their power in the supernatural world. Everyone despises their lineages to such a degree that it is astounding they haven't been obliterated already.

"Hm…" Cardinal Thelonious tapped his fingers on a paper in a clear tempo. "Very well. I find your proposal within lines." He cleared his throat, "Then, everyone, focus! Listen for your roles, pitch in whenever necessary, stay vigilant. You are about to partake in a historical event."

I nodded and hoped that it would be a positive one.

…

Without fail, every Vampire settlement is constructed at the peak of a towering hill, in the form of an ancient castle of yore, utterly enveloped by a dense fog that stretches across the lands and smothers the earth for kilometers. The ever-encroaching mist blankets the very day, serving as a shield against sunlight - the Vampires' main natural weakness - as well as an extension of their senses, detecting and spying on anything that dares enter their domain.

The Tepes estate just outside of Sighișoara was the textbook example of this template. The fortress itself was very easily defensible, and in tandem with its positioning, practically impregnable for any smaller force - any enemies would, quite literally, fight an uphill battle before even getting to the castle walls. Essentially, it is peak medieval warfare bolstered by the fact that the soldiers manning this castle are paranormal monstrosities capable of manipulating their bodies and that of the mist surrounding them.

However, there are still frailties to exploit within this framework.

The fog, as is typical for a product of the creatures of the night, is disrupted by the very same elements that Vampires are weak to: Holiness and Light. It is dissipated by these concepts and energies, and our army fields many of their wielders.

Vasco Strada is the definition of a Holy Man, a human able to wield Holy Energy, only his capability is natural, biological, as a gift from the Heavens for his sheer faith. He also hefts Durandal, a Holy Sword so powerful that the paladin Roland, its original wielder, fought and crushed an army of ten thousand men with it.

Alone.

Vasco would be the spearhead for the largest group, aiming to irreparably demolish and breach the main gates of the castle, bringing along with him his army of four thousand or so.

Sir Abraham Van Helsing is the Descendant and Spirit Inheritor of the original Abraham Van Helsing. Hero Descendants gain a superior physique, higher potential, increased energy reserves, as well as the original Hero's talents and 'bloodline ability' - and, much of the time, appearance. Sir Van Helsing has inherited his predecessor's talent in Vampire slaying, leadership, and is the same sort of polymath. Hero bloodlines are usually never awakened, but, somehow, Sir Van Helsing has awakened his, hence one of his titles.

Lightbearer.

He can employ the pure Light Element, perhaps by drawing it from the sun itself - it would explain another of his titles, Vampire Bane, for even the mightiest Purebloods are galled by the light of day. Compared to such a boon, the benefits of being a Spirit Inheritor - further improvement in physique and similar core values to the original Hero, due to the Spirit latching onto and influencing the Inheritor - are trivial.

He is the leader of the second-largest group, one mostly composed of the Vampire Slayers, with the goal of cleaning up after the main assaults of us Exorcists.

My mentor, Ewald Cristaldi, has affinity with every single one of the Seven Excalibur Fragments, though he can only feasibly wield two at once - I have seen him training to use three, though. He currently wields Excalibur Blessing - which possesses a large Holy Aura and enhances Holy Sacraments - and Excalibur Nightmare - which forms illusions, twists the minds of the weak-willed, and doctors peoples' dreams.

Ordinary Holy Sacraments are things such as simply reciting Bible verses, blessing and utilizing holy water, enacting rituals to banish ghosts, et cetera. Cristaldi can enact the most top-level Holy Sacraments there are, such as manifesting Holy Barriers and sanctifying the very lands. He can enhance those to a, frankly, ridiculous degree with Excalibur Blessing.

He is spearheading the third-largest group, with the goal of taking advantage of the chaos caused by Vasco and attacking the castle from behind.

I am the prodigal wielder of Caladbolg, a powerful Holy Sword that releases semicircle-shaped of pure Holiness with each slash. Its original wielders have been recorded to lop off mountains with merely one of these attacks, though I am nowhere near that level as of yet.

My Sacred Gear, Whited Hilt - that is an altered translation, but I would not sink so low as to refer to it as Dyrnwyn [2] - heats any blade I wield to absurd temperatures and, as a result of my training, emits white - golden, when used on my Holy Sword - flames when I so wish. Originally, they were compressed into the blade so as to limit the range of heat, and bringing out the flames as such is risky since it bypasses this safety measure - I have a certain degree of resistance against them, as in I will not be boiled and vaporized like anyone else would be upon contact, but I can still be burned.

I acquired knowledge of such from experience.

When my Sacred Gear is used on my Holy Sword, the flames turn golden and become Holy Fire, and my… Smoldering Sickles are bequeathed with these same flames.

I am quite awe-inspiring, I know. Nobody other than Uriel, Seraph of Heaven, and the wielders of the Longinus Incinerate Anthem have ever wielded Holy Fire.

I am co-spearheading the third-largest group with my mentor, Cristaldi.

The majority of Exorcists possess some form of Light-imbued equipment, whether in the form of Light Swords or other such weapons, which will, at the very least, dissipate the mist around them in the range of a meter or two. Combined with our tight formations, there will be sufficient dispersion to maintain the pathways blasted into existence by the spearheads' capabilities as Holy Men. The fog would fill the gaps in short order, otherwise.

Vampire Slayers, for the most part, have equipment merely consecrated with ordinary Holy Sacraments - wreaths of withered garlic blossoms, silver crosses, sacred or sacramental wafer for protective circles, the branch of a wild rose to place on top of any Vampire coffins to immobilize the creatures within, mountain ash to repel the Ghoulish undead, a wooden stake and hammer, and a golden crucifix necklace [3] - which possess a lesser range of fog negation. Vampires would easily take advantage of the close proximity of the mist around the group, which they can manipulate, and thus, the allegedly talented wielder of Excalibur Destruction, Griselda Quarta, [4] has been assigned in a defensive position for them. All that I know of her is that Ioann has cursed her and her ancestors many a time, blathering about her true identity as a 'sinful Eve'.

Such a shortfall in equipment capability would normally not be an issue for the lauded Hellsing Organization, as their Vampire slaying style is more low-key and focused on dispatching individual Vampires in affected towns rather than on recklessly dispatching hundreds at a time, but it is insufficient for an assault of our scale.

I expected Ioann to be here, but we've heard word that he has been hospitalized and crippled after butchering nearly two dozen Devils in his assignment. A shame, and I do not mean that sardonically. He would have been a reliable comrade. My worries for his health aren't to such a degree that my performance will be impaired, though.

Now, with my mentor and I at the forefront of an army, a mere dozen meters away from a roiling sphere of fog, I was ready. A little under three thousand Exorcists stood behind us

"We are initiating the assault in precisely… two hundred seconds," my mentor said, intently observing his silver watch. "You are aware of the plan, Squire?" I inwardly cringed at his title for me. "On my mark, release three consecutive attacks - make them as large as possible - into the fog at exactly three hundred degrees northwest."

I looked down at the silver - all equipment on Vampire-related assignments are meant to be of the material, as it is a weakness of theirs - compass in my hands, hefting my beloved Caladbolg up higher onto my shoulder.

"The army then storms the castle using the pathway created," I continued at his probing look. "We remain at the front, with skilled Exorcists covering our flanks, expanding the width and length of the area cleared as quickly as possible. We will have to travel an estimated two kilometers before reaching the base of the hill, and the distance upward from there is unknown."

He nodded, turning his head to meet my blue eyes with his hardened brown ones. "I tell you this now, Squire, in transparency, should we perish on this day… you have been an acceptable student, and an exemplary Exorcist." He snapped his pocket watch shut, shaking his head. "Nay, we shall succeed in this endeavor against the cousins of the demons of hell, and afterward, I shall bestow upon you the requisite credentials and sponsorship for a promotion. Who knows, perhaps your feats on this very day will afford you an official title. Should you wish it to be so, I may just be able to influence its creation according to your desire."

Hesitantly, he reached to pat my shoulder.

My gaze stayed locked with his, flabbergasted and mentally resolving my inner conflict between his words and his actions thus far. My thoughts whirling, I eventually reached a conclusion.

Hm.

…Perhaps he is merely a strict, emotionally stunted, snappish teacher, and I am a troublesome, miscomprehending, though precocious student.

I decided to give the man a second chance, one viewed through an unfogged lens, as well as a small, upwards quirk of my lips.

"Thank you."

He returned the tiny smile before turning back to his watch, holding his hand up in the shape of a fist.

"Be prepared. On my mark!" he shouted for all to hear.

I stuffed my compass into my pocket, bringing my sword to hip level at my left. Its blade pointed behind me, and the guard was at my side in perfect position for a large slash.

"Five! Four! Three!"

Taking a wide stance and tensing my leg muscles, with my knees slightly bent, I exhaled, reinforcing my grip on the hilt.

I thanked Heaven above for the bone and muscle densification potions of the alchemy department, which had afforded my capability to easily tote the greatsword… even if they came at the cost of never further growing.

Well, I suppose I am already of twenty-six summers. Further growth was unlikely, anyway.

My Sacred Gear activated, coating the blade of my Holy Sword in dense golden wisps of what I knew to be Holy Fire. I refrained from releasing the flames to run wild, keeping them compressed and in their base state.

"Two! One! INITIATE!"

I heaved Caladbolg from left to right in a wide arc, generating a Sickle that expanded to about ten meters - a pure slash of aurum flew forth, with golden-orange flames whipping about all around it. The attack cleaved through the mist, dissipating any fog in a forty meter diameter. Slightly shifting my grip on the hilt and solidifying my stance, my Holy Sword swept through the air diagonally, right to left.

The attack curved to the left, expanding the width of the path, and the one after that curved to the right, having the same effect. The Sickles continued dispersing the fog until they sliced into the base of the hill we were about to assault, going clean through the dirt rather than crudely exploding and hindering our march.

"GO FORTH, MEN!" Cristaldi roared, already dashing forth with enough speed to leave the group in the dust.

Everyone sprinted with all their might, five Exorcists surrounding me in case any of our foes aimed for the arms and legs of the operation - Cristaldi and I, the Holy Man and Woman. They covered my flanks. The Exorcists behind us set themselves to try to keep up with Cristaldi, who had already sprinted an entire kilometer at this point.

""Be thou my vision, O Lord, of my heart! None other is aught but the King of the seven heavens! Be thou my meditation by day and night! May it be thou that I behold ever in my sleep! Be thou my speech, be thou my understanding! Be thou with me, be I with thee! Be thou my father, be I thy son; mayst thou be mine, may I be thine!""

The sanctifying chant reverberated through the valley of death, as was standard in large operations - the concentrated worship and prayer, in large amounts and enacted by clamorous, faithful soldiers, would weaken any creatures of the night.

Everyone arrived at the base of the hill before the first Vampires showed up. Two of them dashed out of the uncleared mist leading up the hill, each augmenting their bodies to switch their arms with five-meter-long scorpion pincers. The unfaltering wince on their faces, the shivering and quaking in their forms, the panting at the drain of their stamina - all of it showed the effects of the prayers, as did the slowly dissipating fog.

""Be thou my battle-shield, be thou my sword! Be thou my dignity, be thou my delight!""

Cristaldi threw four silver crosses that formed the four corners of a square in the air and, after making the sign of the cross, served as the basis of a Holy Barrier that his opponents crashed into, scalding their very souls and searing their flesh with the boost provided by a glowing Excalibur Blessing, held in his right hand. Excalibur Nightmare, in his left, shined with an ominous purple light, and the two Vampires immediately went to create a mist barrier to their right and left, even though they screamed with pain.

Cristaldi was in front of them, not to their sides.

He pierced their skulls with two fluid motions while they were stuck in the illusion and continued running, flaring the Holy Auras of his Excaliburs and clearing the mist by around ten meters around him. By now, he was running uphill, an uncharted territory, still thick with an infernal haze.

""Be thou my shelter, be thou my stronghold! Mayst thou raise me up to the company of the angels!""

I never bothered to chant, for I knew my meager faith would cause it to have paltry effects.

After our initial two foes showed their faces, Vampires would jump out of the fog in random intervals and amounts, never truly mustering a concentrated, coordinated defense. One of them controlled my guards' shadows to make them trip and stumble, isolating me. He took the opportunity to dash out of the mist to the right and position himself in front of me, arm shifted to the stinger of a wasp and drawn back to strike.

He froze in primal terror at the Holy Aura encircling me, eyes wide in pain at having landed right into it. I skewered the man, the blade sliding into and through the Vampire's abdomen with no resistance, before mentally willing my Sacred Gear to release its flames.

I was left with ashes at my feet and disgruntled Exorcists urging me to continue on.

""Be thou every good to my body and soul! Be thou my kingdom in heaven and on earth! Be thou solely chief love of my heart@ Let there be none other, O high King of Heaven. Till I am able to pass into thy hands, my treasure, my beloved through the greatness of thy love; be thou alone my noble and wondrous estate! I seek not men nor lifeless wealth!""

"Squire!" Cristaldi shouted, having dispatched his most recent batch of foes. He pointed up the grassy hill. "Clear the path! Same as before!"

Three Sickles flew through the air to reveal the sight of and slice through the stones of a large castle two or so kilometers up. Along their way, they exposed the forms of Vampires that had been laying in wait within the fog. Shouts and reverberations could be heard from above, presumably from Vasco and his group breaching the main gate. The Vampire Slayers were to wait a hundred seconds before starting their own charge, as their group was less equipped for battle during a mad dash; we would have drawn the majority of the Vampire forces at that point, and their role was to help with clearing the estate after we had mostly breached the walls, anyway. It was not to assist in the besiegement.

""Be thou the constant guardian of every possession and every life! For our corrupt desires are dead at the mere sight of thee! Thy love in my soul and in my heart - grant this to me, O King of the seven heavens!""

Regardless, the battle went on. Most Vampires are Mid-Class or so in strength, and all of them, from the nobility to the slaves, are disgustingly brainless. The lower tier ones would rush in under orders from their superiors and immediately have their lives snuffed out, unable to single-handedly face legions of Exorcists. And that was how it had continued until we had gotten three quarters of the way up the hill.

Three silver- and blonde-haired, crimson-eyed female Vampires with pallid skin tones strutted out of the fog, placing themselves directly in our path with smirks on their faces.

"Well, well, well. I see - "

I sent a Sickle at them, large enough to cleave all three of them in two if they failed to dodge. Alarmed, they jumped above it, landing just in time for Cristaldi to dash at one, ten Exorcists to gang up on another, and my guards and I to handle the one I had interrupted. All of them had snarls on their faces.

"Arrogant Purebloods tend to be High-Class! Stay vigilant!" were Cristaldi's words before engaging in battle.

"Hmph. Since you are so keen to show me, Kriemhild Vordenburg, such disrespect," the Vampire uttered, fanning her face after it had become red with rage, "I shall personally - "

"Your blood is tainted," I jeered, sending another Sickle at her.

She froze in pure shock and wrath before turning her body to mist and flowing out of the way, rematerializing in the air as a giant spider with obnoxiously clamorous, insectoid wings. I shivered at the sight of the vile creature, my feet being encased in spider silk in the midst of my distraction.

""O King of the seven heavens grant me this - thy love to be in my heart and in my soul!""

I flared the Holy Fire on my sword, disintegrating the material and jumping upward to dice the arachnid, frozen from the sudden verse of the chant, to a thousand pieces. It dematerialized into fog again, reappearing below as a hooded snake, spewing corrosive acid at my guards. One of them jumped out of the way in time, but the four others were sprayed, their upper bodies turned to melting skeletons in an instant. Her speed was difficult to deal with, though thankfully, she seemed to prefer ranged combat.

Ten Exorcists in reserve swarmed the enemy, while I landed on the ground ahead and refrained from sending another Sickle, as it would harm the army behind. Instead, I quickly jumped towards her, expanding my blistering Holy Aura to preemptively cut off any escape attempt. The Vampire swiftly manipulated the mist to create two barriers, one in front of the Exorcists and one above them, cutting them off. She shifted her serpentine form into fog yet again, escaping from the area.

""With the King of all, with him after victory won by piety, may I be in the kingdom of heaven, O brightness of the sun!""

I ground my teeth in frustration, eventually deciding that taunts and insults were optimal to halt this evasive nonsense.

"You craven Vampires are unable to face your enemy for even a second before fleeing in fright!" I shouted, glancing around wildly for where she would next appear.

For some unknown reason, she decided that manifesting a few meters in front of me was her best option.

Sir Van Helsing was being truthful in his lectures. Vampires are blithering idiots.

"How dare you!" she squealed, leveling an accusing finger in my direction. "You are the brutes who interrupted the Carmilla-Tepes negotiations! We would fight evenly if you had given us enough time, not to mention if you stopped this torturous blathering to a false lord! I have a migraine!"

Clearly, she had more than a migraine, if the sweat coursing down her face and the dainty brows furrowed in pain had anything to say.

"What Carmilla-Tepes negotiations? Deciding how crudely you wish to utilize your hordes of Ghouls? Or arguing on which Faction receives more humans to depravedly ravish?" I questioned, inwardly relieved that my fellow Exorcists had the sense to surround the woman while she was seeing red and nothing else. "You deviant caitiffs sicken me to my very core."

"NO!" she denied, crossing her arms. "Deciding on who receives the honor of commanding the Ghouls, as well as debating some disagreements on… preemptively claiming land." She nodded, eyes closed, before opening them and realizing that she was surrounded.

"Hmph," I scoffed, before cutting off any escapes from above with Sickles while a gray-haired Exorcist was working on establishing a Bounded Field.

"Dishonorable cur!" she screeched, every inch of her face from ear to ear as crimson as her eyes in anger.

""Beloved Father, hear, hear my lamentations! Timely is the cry of woe of this miserable wretch.""

By then, a spherical barrier, formed via the crosses embedded in the grass, erupted and cut off any escape. The fifty or so Exorcists within it charged with a battlecry, Light Swords and Vampire slaying tools held out. The Vampire stopped with her full body transformation nonsense and ran swinging into the crowd, using her far superior strength and speed and taking down eight Exorcists before getting nicked with a Light Sword and wincing. From there, her performance declined, taking down five Exorcists for every wound before I took an opportunity to insert Caladbolg into her spine. She twisted her body around and barely dodged, beginning to turn to mist.

Inwardly wondering why she hasn't used any shadow manipulation or why she is tussling so inefficiently, I flared my Holy Fire, dissipated the mist, and seared her flesh. It immobilized her for long enough to get a direct hit, leaving nothing but cinders and yellowed meadow.

""O heart of my heart, whatever befall me, O ruler of all, be thou my vision.""

It only took the deaths of over thirty Exorcists, including the old man who had erected the now-destroyed barrier. I felt a twinge of remorse in my heart for having failed to quickly kill the Vampire, thus costing their lives.

No. What? That makes no sense; she was High-Class. It is not my fault that she was beyond my power.

Yet, I suppose I still feel it.

I quashed the feeling down, delegating the task of reconciling such emotions to Future Priska Freya Ilse von Ernst. Hefting my sword back onto my shoulder - after dismissing its searing flames, of course - I gazed at the castle in the distance, now clear with our hundred meter proximity and the dissipated fog. While we battled with the High-Class Vampire, Exorcists flowed around us in a similar fashion as with the Red Sea and Moses, most of our forces having breached the castle with Cristaldi's leadership. Dozens of bodies littered the dirt, rolling downhill in the aftermath of the battle between the ordinary Exorcists and the other High-Class Vampire.

I sighed and frowned in slight trepidation, centering myself, before smirking at the glory awaiting me. I cleared the last stretch of the hill to the castle with only a mild exhale.

###

(These will be longer ones.)

[1] So, the author of DxD says that the Vampire Factions live separately but both still in Romania, but… to be honest, here, it doesn't make sense logically or lore-wise. Queen Carmilla of the Carmilla Faction is a reference to Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu's novella, 'Carmilla', whose main Vampire is also named Carmilla (Countess Mircalla Karnstein is her real identity in the novel, and Carmilla is an anagram of Mircalla). The story takes place in Styria, Austria, so… why wouldn't the Carmilla Faction be there, especially when he directly made that reference? The author of Dracula, Bram Stoker, was originally going to have his story take place in Styria as well, although he ended up changing it to Transylvania, so it definitely is significant in the literary Vampire sphere. I just put the Carmilla Faction there because it makes sense. Also, the exact location of the Vampire Factions was never specified beyond 'Romania', but since Dracula is based on Vlad Dracul, AKA Vlad Tepes (Vlad the Impaler), who was born in Sighișoara, I figure putting the Tepes Faction in Sighișoara makes sense. (On how on earth the two Vampire Factions, who absolutely hate each other's' guts (although King Tepes was willing to ask Queen Carmilla for help in canon when his son sided with the Khaos Brigade and overthrew him) could put aside their pride to 'work together' with heavy quotation marks, well, it'll probably be addressed next chapter.)

[2] Dyrnwyn is Welsh for 'white hilt', and its legend is where Priska's Sacred Gear, Whited Hilt, comes from. It was the flaming sword of Rhydderch Hael, one of the Three Generous Men of Britain mentioned in the Welsh Triads. It was also one of the Thirteen Treasures of the Island of Britain. When drawn by a worthy or well-born man, the entire blade would blaze with fire, allegedly: "if a well-born man drew it himself, it burst into flame from its hilt to its tip. And everyone who used to ask for it would receive; but because of this peculiarity everyone used to reject it. And therefore he was called Rhydderch the Generous." All of the mythological art of it I've seen portrays its flames as being white. I haven't elaborated on its history in DxD (created by me, because it's not canon) much yet, mostly because neither Priska nor Ioann care, but I did give it a sort of DxD history. You'll get it eventually.

[3] All of these mentioned tools are what Abraham Van Helsing actually uses in Dracula, plus a skeleton key (used for lockpicking throughout Dracula's lairs) and a revolver and knife (for use against enemies weaker than Dracula). Those aren't really relevant here, though.

[4] Griselda isn't actually stated to have a Holy Sword in DxD, but she's meant to be a ridiculously talented prodigy in swordsmanship and one of the top five strongest female Exorcists, probably at the upper levels of top five, to the point that she was offered a position as the Queen of Archangel Gabriel's Brave Saint Deck. Add that onto the fact that she's the adoptive mother/legal guardian and partial trainer of Xenovia, who uses Excalibur Destruction in canon, I'm justified in giving her one so that things make sense. All of the strong Exorcists without Sacred Gears (in case any meat riders bring up Dulio Gesualdo) have Holy Swords.

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The Vampire Slayers/Hellsing Organization aren't canon in DxD, but you're telling me people like Marsilio Ficino (Renaissance philosopher and Italian priest), Zhuge Liang (Chinese military engineer, strategist, statesman, and writer during the Three Kingdoms era), and Momotarō (Japanese folklore hero, name literally means 'Peach Boy') get Descendants and Spirit Inheritors, but the most famous Vampire Slayer of all time doesn't? I figured that I can just add Abraham Van Helsing, and with him a Vampire slaying organization, which would also make sense to have in canon, even if the Church is a thing. After Van Helsing dies, it can just get subsumed by the Church, since Van Helsing is very Catholic in the original novel (to the point that he doesn't judge or have any hatred against Dracula, saying that it's only God's duty to judge and that mere humans do not know the Vampire's full story) and would probably wish that in his will. Both organizations serve the same purpose, anyway; Van Helsing just thought that establishing his own and working with the Church would do more good in the world.

(In case you're interested in the lore, being a Hero's Spirit Inheritor and a Hero Descendant are different. Being an Inheritor means the Hero's soul latched onto you (probably due to similarities between the two souls) and influences you, and a Descendant means you're, well, a Hero's descendant. Only Perseus is both an Inheritor and a Descendant in DxD, and I decided to copy that for Van Helsing.)

For Cristaldi suddenly not being a complete ass, well, Priska is a somewhat unreliable narrator who's set in her views on that stuff (any prissy noble would despise someone who takes control of their life and forces them to do difficult exercise with tough and demeaning punishments). Ewald Cristaldi taught a very large number of the Church's Exorcists in canon, and they were all loyal to him and liked him to the point that they would follow him in a rebellion against the Church, even though he was known as strict in his training and was a fanatical Christian. I figured that, with Priska as his first student in his younger days when he was less mature and more 'intense', he'd be plenty meaner and cutting in his words, definitely, but probably still not an actual demon in human skin like an Ioann 2.0. Later, when he matures, he'd be strict but not as much of a bully.

This chapter is a little over 6.5k words and was meant to be more than double this size (was supposed to continue all the way through the assault), by the way. Also, the language isn't as stuffy and highbrow as I usually want to have with Priska, but I think it's fine.

The exorcism chant was real, rather than something I made up, if you're curious.

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