At the feast, Isaac was the star, and Anna, the only woman in camp, was showered with soldiers' flattery and attention. Nearly everyone wanted to cozy up to them.
Chatting with soldiers and officers, Isaac learned the regiment was under the Marquis of Champagne, with Captain Valonfuss commanding about 1,500 men. Master Gail had taken 1,000, leaving Valonfuss with 500 weaker troops for logistics.
Valonfuss had sent scouts to Orlande, the nearest city with a mage guild, to contact Gulens' legendary chief mage, Master Clement, via magic. With hard riding, they'd return by tomorrow.
Isaac, Moonshine and Bloodheart daggers at his waist, was thoroughly drunk, his senses gone. "I-I'm Lionnis'—vampire—hic—slayer, I-I-Izzack!" he slurred, swaying.
"I'm Four-Five-Six-ack!" a drunk soldier yelled.
"I'm Ten-ack!" another chimed in.
"Idiots," Anna muttered, wondering how she could like such a fool. Though she drank, her hunter-trained body and social mingling for intel on witches, vampires, and werewolves gave her exceptional tolerance. Still, alcohol, potent aphrodisiac, and infatuation potion conjured lurid fantasies—Isaac stripping her, whipping her bound body, then ravishing her on the ground.
"An—Anna, hic, d'ya like me?" Isaac, reeking of booze, staggered to her.
"Shut up." Anna, once smitten, found his drunken bluntness rude and embarrassing.
"Vampire—butcher, hic, likes our hero, Izzack?" a drunk soldier teased.
"An—Anna, if I can't marry Sophia, you'd do, hic, fine," Isaac babbled.
"Shut your mouth!" The name "Sophia" hit Anna's nerve.
"Izzack, who's Sophia?" the soldier pried, eager for gossip.
"She's that vam—mmph, what're ya—!" Anna clamped Isaac's boozy mouth, but he, unbound, shook her off.
"Sophia's a little bitch," Anna told the soldier.
"Yo, vampire butcher's jealous!" soldiers hooted.
"Jealous my ass!" Anna grabbed a soldier's shoulder, throwing him over her shoulder, knocking him out.
"Anna, that's not—ow, what're ya—ow!" Anna yanked Isaac's ear, dragging him as he protested, wanting to drink with his "brothers." She kicked his groin, hauling the crumpled Isaac from the tent.
"Look, Izzack's a whipped husband!" soldiers jeered.
"To our whipped Izzack!"
"Whipped Izzack!"
Anna dragged Isaac to the stables, rifling through her horse's pack for a vial. "Ow, hic, Anna, ya tryna murder your—glug—!" She forced a potion down his throat, sharpening his focus despite lingering drunkenness.
"Anna?" Isaac mumbled, unsteady but clearer.
"Sorry," he said, realizing his blunder.
"Hmph, whipped Izzack apologizes?" Anna mocked.
"Ain't I whipped?" Isaac quipped, making Anna laugh.
"Haha, you owe an apology, or it's the washboard for you."
"Anna, hic, can ya help me walk? I'm done for." His drunken stagger worsened by her kick.
"Pathetic. How's that vampire bitch's knight so weak?" Anna slung his arm over her shoulder, supporting him to prevent a fall.
"Don't I admit my mistake?" Isaac slurred.
"Haha, not bad. Better than that vampire bitch," Anna relaxed.
"The chest," she whispered.
"Right, can't leave it—mmph!" Anna covered his mouth.
"Not safe," she hissed. Sentries and stablehands were nearby.
"Find the captain," Isaac said. Anna, shoulder-to-shoulder, half-carried him back to the feast tent.
Valonfuss, tipsy but mobile, saw them. "Rickwell! Drunk?"
"A bit much," Isaac admitted.
"Strong mind, eh? Body's shot, but your brain outwitted the vampire?"
"Flattering. I came to—"
"Business?" Valonfuss interrupted.
"Yeah, the chest. It's not safe with the key here. If it's opened—"
"Right, move it to your tent."
"Thanks, Captain." Isaac and Anna exhaled, relieved.
"Where's our tent?" Anna asked.
"Tired already?" Valonfuss teased.
"Yeah, gotta rest for tomorrow," Isaac said.
"Men, get two fine tents!"
"Wait, one tent, two beds?" Anna suggested.
"Oh?" Valonfuss grinned slyly. "Fine. Men, two top beds in the VIP tent!"
"Thanks, Captain." Anna hauled Isaac to the tent.
Inside, the chest was already there. Sobered by the potion, Isaac moved unaided. The tent's poor soundproofing prompted Anna's glance. Isaac used the master key to open the chest, bypassing Valonfuss's unique key.
Sophia's face—shocked, wary, then briefly grateful—met Isaac's, quickly shifting to her composed mask. "Shh," Isaac signaled silence.
Sophia's freed hearing caught the camp's bustle, aware noise could betray her. "Mmph," she whimpered softly.
Isaac whispered, "Sorry about earlier. Your leg ropes are permanent now. You okay?"
"Mmph." Sophia nodded, feigning assurance. She knew holy ropes suppressed strength and were unremovable, like her torso bindings. No mobility left—how could she be okay? But she hid her weakness.
"Hold on. I left the gag unlockable. Use it if needed." Isaac closed the lid. "Goodnight, my princess."
"Mmph." Sophia forced a smile as the lid shut.
Trapped in silence, her fear surged. She'd craved Isaac opening the chest, dreaded its closing. Before, she played along, knowing she could command Isaac or escape by severing limbs. Now, immobile, tethered by Anna's ropes, she was helpless. No tools, no information—only Isaac's visits connected her to the world.
She wanted to cry. In 800 years, setbacks never fazed her; eternal life and talent ensured eventual triumph. But now, her fate rested with Isaac. He could bury the spell-proof chest forever, entombing her until the world's end.
Fearing betrayal, Sophia's tears flowed. Isaac slept, unlikely to open soon. In the soundproof chest, she unleashed a wail, her first loud sob in centuries.
"I need…" Anna whispered, blushing, after the chest closed.
"Right." Isaac set up the camp toilet, assisting Anna's routine relief.
"Bedtime." Isaac shed his coat, ready to douse the light.
"Do your job," Anna said, in red lace bra and panties, arms crossed behind her.
"Huh?" Isaac realized she wanted binding.
"I won't cause trouble. She's bound and pissed—bind me too."
"Alright." Isaac grabbed ropes and toys bought for Anna.
He bound her wrists behind her, tying her thighs and calves together simply.
"No chest or crotch ropes?" Anna asked.
"You want those?"
"I keep my word. I said I'd cooperate if unbound."
"I didn't say I'd rebind you."
"If you don't, the vampire'll be mad."
"True."
"We misunderstood. I thought you'd rebind me after freeing me, but you meant no trouble, no ropes. I'm fine either way," Anna said calmly, master-like.
"My understanding's the same!" Isaac grinned, eager for the perk.
"Really? Why stutter?" Anna's smug grin outmatched his, unlike when Sophia was present.
"N-nothing! Want binding or not?"
"Bind me, hero Isaac. I'm all tied up—scared to bind my chest or crotch without your vampire?"
"Stay still!" Isaac roped her chest, linking it to her arms, then cinched a waist loop, pulling a crotch rope tight.
"Urgh! So rough!" Anna's aphrodisiac flared, her chest reacting, the rope pressing her chastity belt's plugs hard.
"Revenge for kicking my balls!" Isaac smirked.
"Answer a question, and I'll forgive you," Anna grinned slyly.
"W-what?"
"Who's prettier, me or the vampire?" Anna's eyes pinned Isaac, sweating.
"Uh…"
"The chest's soundproof," she teased.
"Uh…"
"Speak!"
"A-Anna's prettier!"
"Nice! Belmont twelve, Dominatrix six!" Anna leaned close, nearly as tall as Isaac (170 cm to his 174). "Should the hero put his captive to bed?"
"Y-yeah." Isaac retreated, princess-carrying the bound Anna to bed, tucking her in. "Good—"
"Hero Isaac, tidy my clothes and gear?" Anna cooed.
"Huh?" Isaac eyed her scattered coat, shirt, and weapons. "Right away, Miss Belmont."
Anna smiled, warmed. Since her family's death at 14, no one had cared for her. "Miss" revived childhood memories.
Isaac folded her leather armor, chainmail skirt, and anti-magic plates neatly, hanging her coat.
"Thanks, Isaac. I'm politer than the vampire, right?" Anna asked from bed, bindings hidden.
"Y-yeah," Isaac said, fearing Sophia's ears.
"Belmont thirteen, Dominatrix six!" Anna beamed, childlike, not the battle-hardened hunter who'd slain six high vampires, dozens of werewolves, vampires, necromancers, and countless undead.
"Sort my weapons, please?"
"Sure."
Isaac handled Anna's arsenal, a walking armory before Sophia's defeat. He wiped her crossbow, Meteor's Fall, with a Gatling-like clip of 60 silver bolts. Noticing a switch, he asked, "What's this?"
"Press it," Anna grinned.
"Can I?"
"Go ahead."
Isaac pressed, popping up a sniper scope. "This…"
"Sees day or night, targets two kilometers. I didn't know its maker, but the vampire clued me—it's van Dyne's. His gear's limitless."
"Like Moonshine?" Isaac tapped his rapier.
"Exactly. Press again to retract."
Isaac did, and the scope vanished.
"You sniped Sophia with this, right?" Isaac mused, recalling Sophia's sonic blast duel with Anna in darkness, beyond human sight.
"Smart, Isaac. Check the other buttons."
Isaac pressed one, sprouting half-meter silver spikes from the crossbow's front.
"Close-combat mode," Anna said proudly, like a kid with toys—deadly ones.
Another button clicked, retracting bolts and loosening the string.
"What's this?"
"Know special ops crossbows?"
"Huh?"
"Idiot," Anna laughed, echoing Sophia. "Some shoot explosive arrows, smoke, grenades, bombs, or grapples. You know that?"
"Oh, yeah. This mode skips the clip for custom ammo?"
"Right, subsonic too," Anna boasted, thrilled to show off.
"Impressive." Isaac placed Meteor's Fall on the rack.
Next were two hand crossbows with auto-loaders for thigh mounting, firing a bolt per second each—lethal to most vampires. Four mercury flintlock pistols fired faster, stronger shots but slower, needing four for rotation.
Her ancestral Belmont whip, Vampire Bane, unlike Moonshine's bladed whip, was soft, soaked in holy water or cursed blood, exploding with holy energy against undead. Eight centuries of alchemical and blood enhancement made it devastate even Sophia. Moonshine's soft mode could match if Isaac knew how.
Vampire Bane stretched from 3 to 15 meters, doubling as a grapple for climbing. Isaac then handled Anna's dimensional belt, a rare magical pouch holding knives, explosives, potions, bombs, and talismans—a Belmont treasure.
Her dagger and hand-and-a-half sword, Sarah's Revenge, felt light, made of steel, not silver. Curious, Isaac asked, "Its name?"
"Sarah's Revenge, our heirloom."
That explained it. Unlike van Dyne's or Sophia's rapiers—slender, thrusting swords for unarmored duels—hand-and-a-half swords from the Crusades balanced single- and two-handed use. Less powerful than longswords or arming swords, they paired with shields, switching to two hands if needed. Anna wielded it one-handed with whip or pistol, or two-handed for melee, its 95 cm blade and crossguard ideal for slashing and thrusting.
"Is it silver?"
"No, meteorite iron. My ancestor Leon Belmont, a Gulens Crusader, used it against Etan heretics."
"For vampires?"
"Enchantments. Centuries of upgrades match Moonshine against undead."
"Your family's incredible." Isaac sheathed Sarah's Revenge.
"Good—"
"Gag me?" Anna interrupted.
"Sure."
"No vampire panties," she stipulated.
"Got it." Isaac stuffed silk into her mouth, wrapping more around, knotting it behind.
"Mmph." Anna tested, muffled.
"Goodnight, Miss Anna."
"Mmph."
Isaac doused the light, taking the other bed.
------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, in a garden outside the small castle near Burg.
"Mmm, this woman's blood is delicious," said Fidel Allende Estruch, castle lord, who kidnapped the baroness a decade ago, crushed the baron's army, and sired Peter.
He bit Jane Lancaster's neck. Her gown-like mage robe's top was torn, exposing her bound chest and corset. Her blonde hair framed a gagged, blindfolded face, hiding her blue eyes.
Her skirt, no longer rope-bound, was soaked with semen and urine. Fidel's hand lifted it, probing her Chastity Spell-protected entrance. New ropes bound her thighs beneath, gripping her flesh.
Her arms, no longer behind, were spread-eagled, tied to trees, legs bound together, forming a cross between the trunks.
Fidel didn't drain her, his hand tormenting her groin, liquids pooling on her thighs, pain and stimulation overwhelming her bound, gagged form.
"Mmph… mmph…!" Jane wailed, writhing.
"Beauty, worthy of Earl Lancaster's daughter. Noble blood with magical zest. Your body's so hot, I'll keep you as my sex and blood slave forever," Fidel sneered.
"Mmph!" At 24, Jane couldn't bear daily torment, violation, and bloodletting. Once her father's pride and a prodigy, now livestock for vampires, her Chastity Spell fading in a week, she'd face relentless assault by Fidel and Peter. Sobbing, her wails became, "Mmph… mmph…!"
Fidel groped her chest and groin harder. "Beauty, be my slave. I've got plenty, but you're special. I'll play with you till you're 50, not a husk before then."
"Mmph!" Jane wept harder.
A figure emerged from the dark.
"Father," said Peter Estruch.
"Busy, mongrel?" Fidel, like most Estruch, scorned lesser-blooded kin, fitting their vile reputation.
"Sorry, Father," Peter cowered.
"Still eyeing your teacher?" Fidel slapped Jane's breast.
Smack! "Mmph!" A red welt bloomed, Jane whimpering.
"No, I just toy with her body. Her groin and blood are yours," Peter said, terrified. Estruchs, rogue-filled, feared each other. A century ago, Ricardo van Dyne killed their patriarch, Hannibal. Chaos followed, with Estruchs killing heir Redondo. A woman, Henrietta, now led.
"Then why're you here?" Fidel snapped.
"I scouted near Burg, as ordered."
"News?"
"A scout from Lionnis' northern camp rode from Orlande back, carrying a message. The army's moving north through Burg to the capital, transporting something valuable."
"Good. Treasure, likely. Five hundred men?"
"Yes."
"I've rallied over 20 lesser vampires. A necromancer in Burg will aid us. We'll intercept."
"What's their leader's rank?" Fidel, cunning, left no detail unchecked.
"A captain."
"Perfect. A logistics garrison, their main force likely wiped out. No mages, assassins, high swordsmen, clerics, or hunters?"
"None."
"Good. We'll seize the treasure."
"Yes, Father."
"We can't wipe out 500. Hard fighting risks us."
"Yes, Father."
"But sacrifices are fine for treasure," Fidel grinned.
"Yes, lesser vampires are cannon fodder."
"If it's good, I'll reward you, son."
"Thank you, Father."
"Scram! Stop eyeing her—she's mine!"
"Sorry, Father." Peter vanished.
Jane and Fidel remained.
"Mmph!" Jane wailed, sensing Fidel's approach.
"Let's play, beauty," he advanced.
"Mmph… mmph…!"
---------------------------------------------------
Next morning.
Isaac unbound Anna early, letting her use the toilet. Free of crotch ropes, she donned hunter leggings, dimensional belt, shirt, and sea dragon leather armor, enchanted for magic resistance, flattening her chest. Her silver-heeled boots, once grinding Sophia's wounds, made her 170 cm frame nearly match Isaac's 174, even taller.
Fully armed, save her hat, Anna joined Isaac in the mess hall.
"Why armed?" Isaac asked.
"You never know," Anna said. At 14, Florenca's mob stormed Belmont Manor, its anti-evil wards useless against humans. Her family and staff died in their sleep, her mother shielding her. Anna never relaxed.
Isaac eyed her hat, adorned with a feather from her luggage. "Nice?"
"Pretty, right?" Anna, hunter though she was, loved beauty like Sophia.
"It's griffin," she said, girlish.
"You're pret—"
"Yo, Lionnis' vampire slayer!" a soldier interrupted.
"Lady Belmont, you're stunning!" another fawned.
"Lady Belmont, I'm Normandy's top swordsman," a third bragged.
"Oh?" Anna drew his sword in a flash, pressing it to his throat. "Top swordsman disarmed?"
"Too beautiful, Lady Belmont," he deflected.
Isaac felt a pang of jealousy. Stepping between them, he said, "Ahem, traveling with Miss Anna, I know she's taken. Don't bother her."
"What—" Anna gaped at his tactic.
"Taken? Who?" soldiers pressed, eager for gossip.
"Uh…" Isaac scrambled.
"It's… Mr. Isaac," Anna blurted, saving him. Both blushed, grabbing water to ease the awkwardness.
"What? Vampire butcher loves vampire slayer? Their kids'll wipe out all vampires!" soldiers marveled.
"That Silanian Dominatrix'll be their first kill!" another shouted.
Cough! Isaac choked on his water at "Dominatrix."
"Rickwell, you okay?" Valonfuss approached.
Cough! "Fine, choked."
"Take care. Scouts from Orlande reached Master Clement. They want us moving day and night, now."
"Now?"
"Yes, north through Burg, Orlande, to the capital. Three days. We leave now, reach Burg tonight."
"Burg?" Anna asked.
"Been there?"
"Many times. An Estruch high vampire, not royal, maybe seventh in line, lurks there."
"Two days ago, Burg's baron hunted him. His army vanished."
"What?" Anna, bound for days, missed this. She knew the baroness was taken but not the baron's folly.
"He wasn't dumb. Hired a witch hunter, demon hunter, and high mage."
"Still failed? Who's the hunter? Maybe a friend."
"Don't know."
"After this, I'll check Burg for that vampire."
"Thank you, Lady Belmont."
Soldiers' flattery turned to familiar hostility—the kind that killed her family. They whispered, "Told ya, don't travel with witch hunters. Death follows."
"She's a Belmont. One visited a city, and it turned zombie overnight."
"Terrifying. Don't wanna be a zombie."
"Or eaten. They stayed in Swadia, that masochism-named kingdom. A third of a city got devoured by werewolves."
"Horrible!"
Anna's disdain turned to rage. Isaac shouted, "Shut up!"
The hero's voice silenced them.
"Without witch hunters, you'd all be vampire food!" Isaac said, meaning Sophia. "Seen one? A high vampire slaughters armies in seconds!"
"Exactly. Don't slander our guest!" Valonfuss added.
"Yes, sir!" soldiers complied.
No more whispers. Anna, blushing, approached Isaac. "Thanks."
"No big deal," he said.
"Still, thanks." Anna, lovestruck, was interrupted by Valonfuss.
"Move out! To Burg!"
The army departed.
------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, Sophia woke in the chest, guessing morning. Her bowels and bladder ached worse, her stomach empty. A slight move tugged her crotch rope, nearly triggering climax. She froze.
Why hasn't Zack greeted me good morning?
Zack, where are you?
When will you open the chest?
I can't do anything, hear nothing, see nothing.
Zack, save me.
-------------------------------------------------
Evening, near Burg Castle, one kilometer away.
Isaac drove the carriage, Sophia's chest on a prison cart, Anna riding Swiftshadow.
A delayed fireball struck the army's center. Boom! Dozens died.
"Enemies!" soldiers shouted, alert.
Ice pillars erupted, crushing more into pulp.
Over 20 vampires charged from the dark, clashing with soldiers.
Anna donned a monocular from Swiftshadow's pack, granting night vision and infrared. Leaping, she tackled Isaac off the carriage.
"Anna, what—" Isaac lay pinned, Anna atop him like a predator.
"N-nothing," she blushed. "You're too exposed. Hide. Vampires don't attack armies without reason—they're after something or someone."
"Not me, right?"
"Shut up, stay hidden. Your vampire mistress needs you."
"Okay." Isaac, timid, hid in bushes, as he had during Sophia's battle.
Outside, vampires outmatched humans, but numbers held. Soldiers minced two vampires.
Anna joined, a red demon on the field. A sword beheaded a vampire. A whip exploded another. A crossbow bolt pierced a skull.
Two summoned gargoyles swooped. Her meteorite sword's holy strike cracked one's wrist. Smirking, Anna two-handed, slashing thrice. Boom! The wrist shattered. The gargoyle's other arm swung; Anna leapt to its head, stabbing its weak core, crumbling it.
The second gargoyle dove. Anna dual-wielded pistols. Bang! Bang! Its wings shattered. She leapt, piercing its core.
Two cowering soldiers screamed, "Told ya, no Belmonts! We're cursed! Zombies—argh!"
Anna's whip lashed, not at them. Boom! A holy explosion pulverized a zombie beast behind them.
"Belm—" Anna glared coldly, resuming combat.
A shadow targeted Anna, unseen—Estruch absolute invisibility, masking sound and air.
As it neared, Anna slashed, severing a bloodied vampire leg from thin air.
"Argh!" Peter Estruch materialized, his invisibility failing.
Anna's glowing cross necklace suppressed nearby vampire bloodline powers. Peter, a novice high vampire, couldn't master his.
Another shadow rushed Anna, unphased by the cross—an experienced Estruch.
His steps betrayed him. Clang! Anna parried Fidel Allende Estruch, Peter's sire and castle lord.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Blind to him, she blocked by sound.
Anna hurled a holy water bomb at her feet. Boom! Water splashed, revealing a smoking Fidel.
"Argh! Holy water!" Fidel reeled.
Anna charged, reversing the fight. Fidel's cow-killing strength barely parried her ancestral blade. Nearing defeat, Peter, leg unhealed by Sarah's Revenge, cast a spell.
"Danger, Anna!" Isaac yelled, drawing Moonshine as a bladed whip, van Dyne's legendary skill reborn. It severed Peter's casting hands.
"Thanks, Isaac!" Anna kicked Fidel, her silver heel crippling him.
She aimed a stake at his heart, but Fidel vanished, her strike hitting air.
"Damn! Estruch short-range teleport!" Anna cursed. Absolute invisibility and teleportation made them nearly untraceable.
Perhaps Dominatrix telepathy could detect them, but Sophia, boxed and collared, couldn't help.
Isaac rushed over. "Anna, you okay?"
"Fine. You?"
"Good." Isaac turned, vampires fled under Anna's might. He checked on Valonfuss.
"Wait!" Anna, blushing, called.
"What?"
"Thanks, Isaac! Lionnis' vampire slayer!" she shouted, hat hiding her flush.
"No need, vampire butcher Anna Belmont!" Isaac ran to Valonfuss.
His fear confirmed—Valonfuss was dead.
Anna joined, met by soldiers' hostile glares, blaming her for deaths.
"Isaac, the chest's gone!" Anna gasped.
"The key's with Valonfuss. They can't open it," Anna reassured.
"No," Isaac, pale by the corpse, turned. "The key's missing."