Chapter 41: 40 - Reunited

With millimetric slowness, after confirming that the noises beyond the heavy basement door had finally ceased, Ginevra shifts the door, opening it just enough to create a slight gap towards the atrium, ready to shut it immediately at the slightest sign of danger. Fortunately, there is no trace of those winged demons—their attention must have certainly been drawn elsewhere. Ginevra steps out first and immediately signals for me to follow.

Now, those large debris from the collapsed ceiling filling the atrium—obstacles during our run towards the basement—have become our salvation, allowing us to use them as cover to advance toward the mess hall without being seen. Despite the desolation, the air is anything but silent; from the upper floors, cries of fervor and pain can be heard, both human and demonic, a sign that the battle between the familiars and the creatures is in full swing. As gruesome as they are, those screams reassure us—they mean that many familiars are still alive. Our fear was, in fact, to step out and find ourselves in absolute silence.

Passing in front of the glass window overlooking the outside, we confirm that the perimeter walls, though still standing, are marked by deep cracks—some large enough to let us catch glimpses of what is happening beyond, but not enough to give us a clear idea of the course of the battle between the infinite army of monstrous creatures and the handful of the Scarlet Army.

We cautiously move forward, reaching the point where we had thrown ourselves—the chasm formed by the collapse of the entire staircase. The pile of bodies stacked atop one another is still there in all its grotesque form—a mass of blood, bones, and flesh. Sticking to our original plan—before being attacked by the small demons—we climb, nauseated and disgusted, over that cadaveric mountain, about two meters high, just enough to allow us to grab onto the floor of the upper level—the one of the mess hall.

Using my arms as much as possible—my back is still quite sore—I lift myself up, with Ginevra’s help pushing me from below, just enough to see what is happening inside the mess hall.

Benches, chairs, cabinets—every object in that room has been used to create a real barricade. Scattered across the floor, thousands of corpses from both sides—the bodies of the demons, fortunately, outnumbering the others—soak in a pool of red liquid and greenish jelly. The towering barricade rises almost to the ceiling, with a small opening left to allow familiars to enter and exit freely.

Outside the barricade, those who are certainly the strongest familiars, or at least those capable of fighting—I recognize some ranked higher than Ginevra—are battling fiercely against the demons, while those likely weaker or severely wounded remain safe behind that makeshift fortress.

«Luke...» Ginevra murmurs, having also reached the first floor—her eyes glistening with emotion and joy.

Among the familiars engaged in battle, I only now realize that he is there too, though his condition is far from good. A severe wound on his right shoulder forces him to fight using only his left arm, while other injuries afflict him from head to toe.

«Luke, get back inside immediately! You’re no longer in a condition to fight!» exclaims a voice from beyond the small passage in the barricade, but the boy completely ignores it, continuing his fight to the death without hesitation.

He is barely standing anymore—his Vis energy reduced to a faint flicker, ready to extinguish at any moment. And that is surely why one of those little bastards manages to catch him off guard; the tiny demon, right behind him, charges an attack with its spear, ready to pierce him in the back.

A gust of wind from behind slams into me. I turn to the side, where Ginevra stood just a moment ago, now vanished along with the wind. I shift my gaze back to Luke and the imminent attack from behind, but even the demon about to strike him has disappeared.

In its place stands Ginevra, her fist thrust forward, completely covered in green jelly from head to toe, an astonishing Vis energy surrounding her—controlled, yet unexpectedly intense, almost comparable to that of Dorje, Sasha’s familiar, ranked around 200.

At the sight of the girl, Luke’s energy abandons him completely. His legs give out, but she manages to catch him before he can hit the ground.

Meanwhile, I, having climbed fully out of the chasm, push my way through the demons and reach Luke and Ginevra.

«S-Sorry, big brother... sorry for not finding you sooner,» Ginevra murmurs, her voice trembling with relief—this time, out of happiness—as she holds Luke close, her tears dripping onto his face.

«I promise I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you at all costs! But for now, please, go back inside...» she pleads.

A plea Luke cannot refuse.

«To think that I used to be the one protecting you... Ever since we arrived in this world, the situation has completely flipped,» he says with a faint, pained smile, blood trickling from his mouth.

His gaze, now colder and more threatening, locks onto me.

«Did that bastard do anything to you while you were alone?» he asks her, anger and concern in his voice.

This is already the second time Luke has implied that I might force Ginevra into something inappropriate—the first was when she came to my room to train together on Vis energy control. Who the hell does he think I am?!

I know, from what Sasha told me, that by now, I’m known as the perverted familiar—thanks to the fact that, to awaken my Visaguis energy, I have to think dirty thoughts about my mistress—but to go as far as to worry as if his precious sister were in the hands of a predator... What did I do to deserve such a terrible reputation?!

Or maybe... is there something more to it?

Ginevra shakes her head, visibly disagreeing. «Don’t worry, Lyon is a good guy, I mean it. He even saved my life. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be here with you,» she replies with a bright smile.

At that, Luke’s eyes, still fixed on me as if trying to catch any telling expression, soften slightly. Or rather, they become less threatening and furrowed.

«Thanks for saving her,» he tells me coldly.

«Don’t mention it,» I reply just as distantly.

Unfortunately, the dislike I feel for this guy hasn’t lessened in the slightest, not even after Ginevra’s words of praise for him.

«Is Gerard okay?» I ask with some concern.

«Saying he’s okay would be an exaggeration, but he’s still alive. He’s back there,» Luke answers, nodding toward the pile of furniture and benches, before Ginevra quickly carries him past the barricade.

Since I’m unable to fight, I have no choice but to take shelter momentarily in that makeshift stronghold.

However, my welcome was far from joyful and filled with hopeful words like Ginevra’s. In fact, from their looks, I’m sure many of them don’t even want me here.

Immediately, a few familiars tend to Luke, dabbing his wounds and cleaning the dust off with water before dressing them with makeshift bandages torn from tablecloths, finally laying him down on the ground.

Not far from him lies Gerard’s body—far more gravely injured than Luke, but fortunately still alive.

«Why aren’t you out there fighting?!» one of the familiars angrily snaps at me. «Or maybe... you only like using your precious vampire spells against us?!»

That baseless, malicious remark is quickly followed by others just as bad, if not worse, but Ginevra abruptly silences them, stepping forward in anger.

«I told you to cut it out with this nonsense!» she thunders, instantly quieting everyone.

«Lyon is a familiar, a human, just like us! In a moment like this, we should be united, and yet, even in the midst of death, you’re clinging to this nonsense!»

«Then why isn’t he using his spells against those monsters?!» another familiar retorts.

«Because I simply can’t,» I interject—I can’t just leave Ginevra at the mercy of this enraged crowd. «Unfortunately, once I use a BloodWord, I have to wait an hour before I can cast another, and right now, I only know three. I already used two of them about half an hour ago. The third—Obice—is a defensive spell whose effectiveness depends on the strength of my attacker, and against creatures this weak, it would be completely useless.

That said, my Vis energy control, though mediocre, should be enough to take down some of those demons,» I conclude.

I step toward the small opening leading outside the barricade, but Ginevra’s words freeze me in place.

«Don’t you dare step out there! With the blow you took to your back, any sudden movement could severely—or worse, permanently—cripple you!»

Then, she then turns to the other familiars. «Sending someone to their death when they can’t fight is such a despicable act that not even a vampire would do it! You talk so much about Lyon—about how he’s closer to vampires than to us—but by thinking like this, it’s you who are acting like them, not him!»

At those words, everyone falls silent—their faces uncertain and pensive—while beyond the barricade, the battle rages on with relentless ferocity.

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