Reincarnated as the Vampire Princess' Familiar
Chapter 43 - 42 - In the pack’s jaws

Chapter 43: 42 - In the pack’s jaws

The battle between the two factions has devolved into brutal hand-to-hand combat, an unrelenting clash where every slash of a vampire’s blade sends dozens of werewolves, orcs, and centaurs crashing to the ground, torn apart. Yet, even this relentless carnage fails to halt the monstrous horde’s advance.

«Shit...» one of the familiars, Dimitri Vorthgen, mutters, resigned. A man likely of Greek descent, with tanned skin, long hair, and an unkempt beard, he collapses to his knees. «To die like this, after everything we’ve suffered, is just a sick joke! For years, I’ve endured my master’s daily abuse and violence without a word. I told myself, ’This is the price for a second chance after losing my life in the human world, for their protection. Once I reach the LunaePlenae dormitory, I’ll finally reap the rewards of my sacrifices.’ And now, after all that, they’ve just decided to let us die? They ordered the troops protecting us to fight elsewhere instead of sending reinforcements... it’s not fair! If I hadn’t lost my last match, I would’ve been promoted to LunaeCrescentis by now—I bet both they and those in the LunaePlenae dormitory aren’t facing this nightmare!»

«Feeling sorry for yourself is useless!» interrupts Camila Kalkuth, her voice tense, though her expression is just as terrified. She looks to be around Luke’s age—about twenty, give or take one year—possibly South American or Spanish, though not particularly tall. With her striking beauty and well-defined figure, she must have been a fashion model in her previous life, her long, dark brown curls only enhancing the impression.

She doesn’t even get to finish her sentence before a small group of lycan, led by one of the towering bipedal werewolves with silver fur, breaks through the vampire soldiers’ ranks.

Now, nothing stands between them and us. Their wide-open jaws drip with saliva, sharp fangs glinting under the pale moonlight—their bodies shrouded in a golden mist as they advance with relentless fury.

There aren’t many—just seven in total, six of whom have black fur and appear much weaker than the silver one—but in our current state, I doubt we stand a chance against them.

«Lyon, how much longer until you can use the BloodWords?» Ginevra asks me, her voice alarmed.

«Five minutes, and I’ll be able to cast Telum

. A few more minutes for Interius,» I reply, my voice heavy with dejection. Five minutes isn’t much, but in moments like this, it can feel like an eternity. And right now, it definitely does.

Ginevra orders Dimitri and Camila to position themselves in a triangle around the bodies of our three gravely injured companions—including Gerard, the only one still conscious. Then, she turns to me and Luke, her voice tinged with regret but unwavering. «Earlier, I told you not to fight and to avoid exertion, but I’m afraid now I must ask the opposite.»

«I would have done it even if you hadn’t asked me!» Luke snaps, his voice tense, irritation flashing in his eyes as he watches the beasts close in. Though his body is drenched in blood and his right arm nearly useless, he forces himself to stay on his feet—albeit with difficulty.

As they draw closer, the small pack of werewolves fans out, circling around us, while the giant silver wolf lingers slightly behind—like a mother letting her cubs take the first bite of a meal.

Their small, menacing yellow eyes never leave us for even a second. They study us—perhaps wary because we resemble vampires, fearing we might possess the same strength. Otherwise, I’m certain they would have attacked without hesitation. They growl low, attempting to intimidate us, to shatter our focus, their movements perfectly synchronized as they continue circling around us, until...

In perfect unison, the six lycan lunge at us, their jaws wide open, ready to tear into our flesh, leaving behind a disgusting trail of saliva.

With a sudden burst of speed—even faster than the werewolf—Ginevra drives a powerful elbow into the beast’s stomach, sending it flying and tumbling across the ground. A swift, precise strike, but the Lycan quickly rises to its feet, barely fazed, letting out only a faint whimper of pain.

Meanwhile, the rest of us struggle to hold our ground. Dimitri and Camila, still in full strength, manage to keep three werewolves at bay on their own—but fail to land any decisive blows. The strange golden aura enveloping the beasts seems to absorb their attacks with ease.

Even Luke and I, somehow—despite our injuries and near-empty energy reserves—manage to hold on, at least avoiding immediate death. At this point, defeating them isn’t even a possibility; our only option is to stall, keeping the lycan occupied while Ginevra, Dimitri, and Camila—far stronger and in better shape than us—focus on taking them down. And if, by some miracle, I manage to last five minutes, I might even be able to wield my sword again. Maybe then, I could actually contribute.

No matter how many times we knock them down, those damn beasts just keep getting back up... they’re tough, ridiculously tough. Or maybe our attacks are just too weak—like a three-year-old trying to knock over an adult with punches; no matter how many they throw, it’s nothing but a tickle. Then again... a hit to a man’s most delicate area always hurts, no matter how weak the attacker is. ...Wait. I think I just had a genius idea!

Knocked back once again, the lycan lunges at me once more, its pitch-black body surging forward like a living shadow. I have only a split second before it reaches me. I focus my gaze and... BAM!

With every last ounce of strength I have left, I drive my fist straight into the lycan’s... thing!

Even with all the strength I put into it, the werewolf is still alive, but... a tortured howl bursts from its wide-open jaws as it collapses, writhing and rolling on the ground in sheer agony—a kind of pain that only we men truly understand.

«I-I think I found their weak spot... You have to hit them in the... thing

!» I exclaim, my voice barely above a whisper, tinged with a mix of exhaustion and embarrassment.

«Now I understand why they call you the perverted familiar...» Camila mutters, her expression twisted in disgust—I’m not sure if it’s because of me or the thought of having to aim there. Either way... what a way to thank me for figuring out their weak spot!

Without hesitation, Luke is the first to obey my instructions. With both arms now useless—his left one rendered inoperable by a bite on his forearm—he waits for the perfect moment and delivers a powerful kick to the exact spot I indicated... and the results are instantaneous. The lycan collapses, writhing on the ground in pain, letting out agonized wails, just like the one I struck earlier.

«So, you finally managed to be useful for once...» Luke remarks, his tone dripping with barely concealed contempt.

Looks like gratitude has completely gone out of style these days...

Following Luke’s successful demonstration, the other familiars, one by one, take down the lycan using the same unconventional but effective method. Despite the dire situation, the absurdity of this way of fighting makes Gerard burst into prolonged laughter. «Lyon, you’re truly incredible...» he murmurs, his voice strained by both blood and amusement.

Only Dimitri, now facing his opponent one-on-one, still hasn’t managed to bring him down. Despite repeatedly striking the sensitive areas, his attacks seem to have no effect.

«What’s wrong? Why can’t you take him down?» Ginevra asks, poised to step in and assist.

«This bastard... has a microscopic dick! I can’t land a hit!» Dimitri blurts out, his face flushing with embarrassment.

The lycan immediately lets out a ferocious growl, a chilling howl that freezes the blood and makes bones creak.

Looks like someone took that personally...

The beast charges at Dimitri with unrestrained fury. He quickly assumes a defensive stance, preparing to strike a decisive blow, but Camila moves faster. With surgical precision, she delivers a punch to the critical spot, bringing down the last of the black-furred lycan.

«You were amazing, Camila!» Dimitri praises her, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder. «When it comes to finding dicks, no one does it better than you!» he adds, bursting into laughter.

A joke that, however, neither Ginevra nor Camila find amusing—quite the opposite. The two girls’ eyes burn like embers, their gazes sharp and filled with a ferocity that could rival the lycan themselves.

«Say that one more time, and the next dick I punch will be yours!» Camila snaps, her teeth clenched in a menacing grin.

We survived the first attack, but I fear the real trouble is only just beginning. That silver-furred beast seems much stronger than the smaller ones, and worst of all, it’s female. Which means my plan has just fallen apart...

The silver werewolf growls at us with terrifying fury, but this time, we’ll take the first strike! We are five against one; no matter how strong it is, I’m confident we’ll find a way to win!

Ginevra, Dimitri, and Camila charge at it immediately, with Luke and me following closely behind. The plan is to attack from different angles so that at least one of us will reach the target.

Once we have it surrounded, we charge at it... but then, an explosion of golden energy erupts from its body in every direction, instantly neutralizing our coordinated attack and throwing us back. Before we even hit the ground, the lycan flexes its hind legs and propels itself forward, charging at Ginevra—likely seeing her as the biggest threat and targeting her first.

It raises its front paw—its long, sharp claws gleaming menacingly, ready to tear through Ginevra’s exhausted body, which is too weak to dodge.

I can’t... I can’t let her die after everything she’s done for me!

Somehow, using my legs as a pivot, I manage to halt my reckless flight and gain enough momentum to get between Ginevra and the massive silver Lycan in time, and...

«BloodWord: Obice!»

—SLASH!

Cold. I feel the chill, but at the same time, something warm and liquid drips all over my body.

With its tremendous claw strike, the silver werewolf shatters the red energy disc created with Obice, which was meant to nullify and reflect the attack back at the beast... or at least, that’s what I had hoped... the strength of that monster must be far beyond my spell’s power... damn...

I’m sent flying with great force, my body crashing into Ginevra—luckily, she manages to catch me and land on her feet.

My vision blurs, and I feel my strength draining from me at an alarming rate. Dimitri, Luke, and Camila lie collapsed on the ground after the powerful release of the lycan’s golden energy. Ginevra—also at her limit—tries desperately to stop the bleeding from the deep gash that runs from my chest through my entire abdomen.

«Hang in there, Lyon! Hold on!» Ginevra’s desperate screams sound muffled, distant, even though she’s just inches away from me.

Is... this the end? I guess so... God, you’re really cruel, you know? I’ve already died once from blood loss—couldn’t you come up with a more original way to end my life? Or at least give me a few more years? I mean, I only lived sixteen years in the human world and a few weeks in the vampire world... what have I done to deserve such a short life? I don’t want to die...

At this moment, a light breeze begins to stir, and then...

From the sky, a force strikes the lycan like a hurricane, a long, sharp black tornado that lifts the creature, hurling it into the air before slamming it violently to the ground. And when that dark whirlwind finally dissipates...

...a figure steps out of the shadows. Her hair, black as the deepest night, gleams with purple streaks, wrapping around her face like a curtain of darkness. Her long, dark dress moves with a sinister grace, while the shadows around her seem to come alive, dancing at her feet.

...Ayra.