The road ahead was long and dusty, a trail stretching into the unknown, towards the distant Vampire Kingdom. Well, that sounds pretty poetic despite... well... let's continue.
The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky orange and red, but the heat of the day still lingered in the air, heavy and filled with mutual curses. The group of women marched on, firm in their steps, but there was something... unique, to say the least. A shared feeling between the four ladies... the pure and primordial RAGE.
They weren't going on a mission, to meet someone, or to buy something... No, they were heading to recover their damn husband, who had simply been kidnapped! The absence of this man had started to take its toll so quickly, it was almost unbearable now!
Samira, Mônica, Beatrice, and Cristine were almost unrecognizable.
What was once a sisterly bond now felt like some kind of internal battle, unfolding in the form of total war. They tried to walk in silence, but with every passing second, it seemed like they were on the verge of exploding at each other.
"That damn son of a bitch was kidnapped," Samira muttered to herself, breaking the silence after so many fights they had. Her fiery orange hair was completely loose, blowing in the wind as she walked. "He should at least be strong, be here with us, keeping us together. Only he knows how to do that, but now, look at us. We're a bunch of maniacs thirsting for our man."
"Say something less obvious, do you think we don't know that?" Beatrice questioned, her voice cold and cutting. She stopped for a moment, her eyes gleaming with anger. "But it's not all his fault. The blame is on us too. We've always been too dependent on him."
Mônica glanced at them, her expression one of someone who could no longer bear the tension. Her usually gentle eyes were now filled with frustration. "Let's not start with that again, alright? He was kidnapped, the blame is on whoever took him. He always does what needs to be done, he wouldn't leave us willingly. And we, here, are capable of doing what we need to as well. We can't forget that."
"Of course, we can do what we need to," Cristine said, her voice deep and bitter. "But without him, everything feels... unstable. He was the pillar. He kept the peace among us. Now, we're all adrift, fighting and consuming each other from the inside."
The conversation was already turning into an open argument when, suddenly, a notification appeared in the air, floating in front of Samira, who was the first to see it. The glow was unmistakable: a message from the System, something they rarely saw in such moments. It was a call to action.
Stay connected via мѵʟ
[Kill all the Thieves]
Samira, without hesitation, was the first to move. With a battle cry, she charged toward the group with impressive speed, the greatsword in her hands glowing with black flames. The blade cut through the air with ease, and the first men who tried to block her path were immediately consumed by the flames. The intensity of the attack made the ground beneath her feet tremble, and one of the men was thrown back, burned to ashes.
Mônica wasted no time. She advanced alongside Samira, her sword spinning with precision. In a single move, she slit the throat of one of the enemies, blood spraying onto the ground in a heavy jet. Her gaze was fierce, and every strike she delivered was imbued with controlled but untamable rage.
Cristine, more in the shadows of the battle, moved silently. Her steps were so light that no one noticed her approach until she was already in the middle of the troupe. With a swift motion, she drove one of her daggers into a man's throat, killing him instantly, before disappearing into the darkness of the trees around them. She knew that her strength wasn't in the number of strikes, but in surprise and precision.
Beatrice was also on the move, her sword cutting from side to side with impressive agility. She disarmed one of the men with a precise strike, then, in a quick motion, pierced another man's chest. The fight seemed to turn into a massacre as the women sliced and stabbed with an almost supernatural efficiency.
The men tried to react, but they were completely disorganized in the face of the women's fury. Mônica sliced the hand off one of the men who tried to grab her, making him scream in pain before being struck down with a precise blow to the head. Samira, meanwhile, faced two of the men at the same time, her flames consuming everything around her as she slashed them with her greatsword. With every strike, she felt freer, more powerful, as if she were avenging something much greater than these mere bandits.
Cristine, observing from afar, made one more lethal move. She ran toward one of the men trying to escape, and with deadly precision, slit his throat with one of her daggers. The man fell without a sound, his life draining away in a simple, quick motion. She knew she didn't need brute strength. Just the lightness and precision of her movements were enough.
Beatrice was beside Samira, covering her back. She knew Samira's strength was in her fury and her skill with the greatsword, but she also knew she needed to keep the enemies at bay so Samira wouldn't be overwhelmed. With each strike of her sword, she took down an enemy, and soon the road was covered with fallen bodies, each one lifeless.
The fight didn't last long. When the last of the bandits were finally defeated, the women stood, panting, but victorious. The sound of their heavy breathing was the only thing heard now. Dust and blood were scattered across the road, and the scene looked more like a battlefield than a simple confrontation.
Samira, her greatsword still alight with flames, looked around, assessing the damage. "This is what happens when someone tries to challenge us," she said in a low voice, but one filled with power. She looked at Mônica, Beatrice, and Cristine, a satisfied smile forming on her lips. "We're ready for whatever comes next."
Mônica wiped her sword with a swift motion, blood dripping onto the ground. "Nothing will stop us now," she said, the gleam of determination in her eyes. "No matter who tries to stand in our way."
Beatrice nodded, her eyes still vigilant. "Yes, but we need to find our husband. The Vampire Kingdom is still waiting for us."
Cristine, who had disappeared for much of the fight, reappeared silently, cleaning her daggers with her usual calm. "And we can't afford to waste any more time."
Samira looked toward the horizon, where the Vampire Kingdom was still distant, but already visible on the skyline. "Let's move forward. What happened here... was just the beginning."