Dragon's Wrath: The Cursed Returnee



As the battle raged on, a chilling cold swept through the area, causing the temperature to plummet even further. A frigid wind cut through the air, leaving a trail of ice crystals in its wake. Dante and the vampires found themselves slowly becoming encased in a thin layer of ice, their bodies growing colder with each passing moment.

Dante felt the frost seeping into his bones, numbing his muscles and slowing his movements. The ice formed intricate patterns across his armor, glistening in the pale moonlight. Despite the encroaching cold, Dante remained steadfast. 

The vampires, on the other hand, were not immune to the freezing temperatures. Their bodies, already adapted to the night's darkness and the supernatural powers bestowed upon them, struggled against the sudden drop in temperature. The thin layer of ice that covered their forms threatened to hinder their movements, weighing them down and sapping their strength.

Drawing upon his survivor's instincts, Dante activated his resilience, fortitude, and endurance buffs. These magical enhancements bolstered his physical and mental resilience, allowing him to withstand the frigid temperatures with greater ease. The buffs created an invisible barrier around him, shielding him from the worst of the cold's effects.

As the remaining vampires attempted to flee the battlefield, their hopes of escape were abruptly dashed. In the blink of an eye, they found themselves falling from the sky, their flight abruptly interrupted by unseen forces. Upon closer inspection, it became apparent that Ian was the source of their sudden demise.

Ian, who had remained silent and seemingly inactive throughout the battle, had utilized his own unique set of skills to intercept the escaping vampires. With unparalleled precision and speed, he unleashed a flurry of devastating attacks, wielding his knives with masterful precision.

The remaining vampires who took to the sky to escape their impending doom met a bitter fate. As they soared through the air, their legs and wings suddenly became encased in a thick layer of ice, freezing them in place. With a resounding crash, they plummeted to the ground, their limbs shattering upon impact.

Meanwhile, the vampires who remained on the battlefield were met with a swift and brutal end. Ethan and Dante, their blades honed with deadly precision, moved with a seamless synchronization. Each strike landed with devastating accuracy, cleaving through vampire flesh and bone.

The air was thick with the sound of rending flesh and the scent of blood as the vampires met their gruesome fate. Limbs were severed, bodies split in half, and lifeless forms littered the ground. It was a sight that held both awe and a sense of accomplishment for the group, for they had faced formidable adversaries and emerged victorious.

The group stood amidst a chilling sight—a vast expanse of frozen bodies that had once been animated zombies. The battlefield was now a frozen graveyard, the remnants of the undead scattered across the icy ground. It was a testament to their determination and skill, but the toll of the battle was evident on their weary forms.

As the adrenaline subsided, exhaustion seeped into their bones. Each member of the group, except for Ian and Mary, found themselves unable to move, their bodies drained of energy. The physical and mental exertion had taken its toll, leaving them temporarily incapacitated.

Ethan leaned against his sword, his breath heavy and ragged. His muscles ached, and his body yearned for rest. Aline and Emily, still surrounded by the remnants of their elemental spells, slumped to the ground, their magic waning with their energy reserves. Dante, his once-vibrant aura now diminished, knelt on one knee, his sword planted firmly in the frozen ground.

In this frozen tableau, Ian and Mary stood, seemingly unaffected by the weariness that plagued the others. Ian's gaze swept over the scene, his expression a mix of concern and determination. Mary, though tired, still clung to her boundless curiosity, observing the aftermath with wide eyes.

The silence that settled over them was broken only by the soft sound of their collective breaths mingling with the cold air. It was a moment of respite, a pause in the relentless march of their mission. Despite the exhaustion, a flicker of satisfaction burned within them. They had triumphed over the forces of darkness, and though weary, they were filled with a sense of accomplishment.

"What is this? Where am I? What happened to me?" 

"I didn't think that we would pull this off so easily, I guess the vampires never had a real battle since they became monsters…" Emily said while raising his eyebrows. 

"The enemy was caught off guard thanks to Ethan… I also wasn't expecting that we would pull this off," Dante said. "That being said, you almost froze me trying to help. You should have warned us beforehand."

"This isn't my body, what are these voices? Who are you?" 

"We should leave this place, I don't like this atmosphere," Aline said. "Should we use one of those carriages? I don't like those horses, but…" 

As the group basked in the aftermath of their hard-fought victory, a sense of tranquility permeated the frozen air. However, amidst the calm, a collective awareness settled upon them, their attention drawn to Ethan. His usually steadfast demeanor was overshadowed by a palpable internal struggle.

His brows furrowed, trembling with a tension that belied the absence of visible wounds. His lips were pressed into a tight line, his gaze distant and introspective. It was clear to his companions that something weighed heavily on his mind, despite the physical respite they currently enjoyed.

"Is everything fine, Ethan?" Emily asked after she approached.

"... I am fine," Ethan replied while showing a weird expression on his face that was a mix of pain and anxiety.

"I am not fine! I am not fine!"

They finally were back… the voices. One of the main reasons Ethan wanted to control his curse was because of that. Getting the memories of his enemies had its merits, but they had many demerits. The memories would leave forgotten voices behind, and they would echo in his mind now and then like a cursed collection of songs being played at the same time.

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