As we fought our way into the castle’s door, we had thinned the enemies into less than a hundred. Some tried to surrender, but we had to vanquish them all the same. They simply didn’t belong with the Living anymore.

What’s dead should remain dead. Take it from someone who knows. It had me thinking if it was all worth it: Vincent bringing me back, the whole immortal war bonanza. And just thinking about it made me so tired R.I.P.ing didn’t seem so bad anymore.

The battle slowly turned mechanical: a task that required some amount of detachment.

I disarmed and brought down enemies. Amyr finished them. I just couldn’t bear murdering them even if I knew they weren’t real people.

We were winning. The sentries were just about exterminated. But Pilgrim and his sons hadn’t come out. I hadn’t seen any of their familiars either.

Did they really think an army of this caliber would be enough to stop us? Were they afraid of us? Was that why they were hiding inside the castle? No. That couldn’t be it.

“Let’s head in!” Manu cried, urging his troops to follow him.

Many of them acquired injuries. None that would prevent them from fighting though. Hell, I didn’t think a severed limb would stop any of them from trashing Pilgrim’s place.

As we reached the massive double doors of the castle, it swung out with a loud creak.

Guardedly, we double backed. Manu’s men surrounded the entrance in a semi-circle. Vlad threw Kyoshiro a glance and his familiars nocked our last arrow onto the crossbow.

Cairo, the Twins—Cyrus and Darius—and their familiars stepped out in slow motion as if they were filming a montage.

Six familiars emerged with four captives: Alex, Max, Vincent and that little Asian boy with all-knowing eyes. Except for the boy, none of them could walk. Their knees grazed the floor, leaving red smudges as they were dragged in front of us like some form of exhibition.

Kyoshiro and his familiars tensed as the little boy squirmed upon seeing them.

“Let my boy go!” shouted Eun Jae. The edges of his eyes were red like he was trying not to cry.

Miu held the guy’s arm and shook her head. “Calm down. We’ll get our Yuki back.”

A lump swelled in my throat just looking at Vincent and the others. I could barely make out their faces with the bruises and the wounds and blood. Max’s lower jaw looked dislocated, twitching as it tried to mend with no success. Their heads lolled, eyes rolling up in stupor.

Only Alex seemed cognizant enough to realize what was happening. It looked like he was trying to say something but nothing came out but hoarse moans.

I tapped into the Transference link with Vincent and tried to rouse him. But even his mind was a nothing more than a dark empty room with walls put around it. All it knew now was suffering and unending despair.

“V-vincent!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. If he couldn’t hear me through the link, maybe he would if I shouted loud enough. “Vincent! Come on! Wake up!”

My feet started to move forward. Amyr’s hands slid around my arms, restraining me. I thrashed about, digging my heels into the dirt.

“No!!” I protested, struggling to free myself from Amyr’s grip. “Damn bastard’s acting! He knows I’m mad at him.”

Amyr tightened his hold on me.

In the end, I gave up. The twinge of pain in my chest had sapped me of the will to fight back. And before I knew it, I was crying.

Amyr folded an arm over my shoulder and rested my head on his chest. He stayed quiet, but I could sense how angry he was by the way his body shook.

Kyoshiro stepped ahead with his head held high. “Hand them over to us, Cairo.”

Without moving a facial muscle, Cairo went down the castle’s steps. “Of course, brother. Once you give us the girl.”

Automatically, Amyr pushed me behind him. Vladimir and his familiars positioned themselves in front of me like a barricade.

Cairo’s eyes narrowed. “I take that it that is a no. You see, Kyoshiro, Father is hoping we could settle this… petty, rebellious streak of yours peacefully. But it seems you’re leaving me no choice but to use force.”

Shaking his head, Kyoshiro clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Oh yeah?” he sniggered, pretentiously looking around at the deserted castle grounds. “You and what army?”

From the entryway, Hector came into view, pulling down the hood of his brown monk’s robe.

“You traitor!” Kyoshiro yelled.

“The girl tricked me first,” he answered sounding pleased with himself. “I’m just getting even.”

“By desecrating graves and using the dead?!” Vladimir shouted angrily. “How low could you go, Hector?”

Hector grinned. “Apparently, much, much lower.”

Thousands of unsynchronized footfalls broke the stark silence.

From the entryways, the windows, the roof, surfacing from the lake were more of the undead. Unlike the first army, they were in advanced stages of decomposition, shuffling, crawling, manipulating whatever was left of their bodies to surround us.

The smell of rotting corpses wafted to my nose. I fought the urge to gag.

Kyoshiro summoned his scythe—a katana with an unguarded onyx-embedded handle. He raised it at the level of his eyes and unsheathed it halfway through.

“You scum!” Vladimir said through his teeth.

Hector shrugged, his unblinking eyes widening with amusement. “Well, I ran out of fresh bodies to work on. But with the way wraiths have proliferated on earth, I reckon more supplies are coming. By all means, try to kill them all so I could make more.”

In a matter of seconds, we were surrounded. More were coming. More than the first army. More than we could ever imagine.

Our troops huddled in a tight circle, surrounding me.

“One last chance, brothers,” Cairo announced. “Give me the girl, and you—” he glanced over his shoulder motioning at his familiars to give Vincent and the others a kick or a nudge to make them groan—“will walk out of Halo perfectly unharmed.”

“What now, Vlad?” Kyoshiro mumbled under his breath. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his forehead. “There’s no end to them.”

I tried to size up the situation. Even us rooks and bishops would be no match for a limitless army of undead. I could see it in everyone’s faces. Panic was palpable in the air and this time, no speech or cheer would bring back the courage we had before.

“I’ll go,” I said, my voice softer than a whisper.

Amyr’s brows furrowed. “What? No!”

Mei held my hand. “I never thought I will say this, but Amyr is right. Master Vincent would not approve. I will not approve. We will fight, Aramis. We will fight with everything we have.”

Vladimir’s pale eyes shifted from me, to the undead and finally to Vincent. “Surrendering you to them is as good as giving Father a guilt-free pass to the apocalypse and you know it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I sniffed. “I’m turning anyway.”

“I know,” Vladimir answered. “But we’re trying to find a cure for you. Vincent’s not losing hope.”

I looked him in the eyes. “Is there a cure to begin with?”

He averted his gaze.

Nodding, I let my Cataclyst falter. “Then that settles it. Once they let Vincent and the others go, I’ll distract them. Belial and the others will help you get to Halja. When Death realizes I’m turning, I don’t think he would take my soul just yet.” I mustered a smile. “Besides, sometimes the queen should sacrifice herself to protect the king, right?”

“There’s gotta be a way,” Amyr croaked, holding my hand.

“This is the way.” I kept my voice low so it wouldn’t waver. “Let’s see if Pilgrim Reaper’s willing to eat a rotten soul for breakfast.”

I gave Amyr’s hand a squeeze. Mei embraced me. She was crying. Resigned, Vladimir placed a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s been a pleasure, knowing you guys,” I said, before turning away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Did I hear someone talkin about romance?. So here's my attempt. LOL. I'm not really sure where to insert loveydovey moments. Not to mention I'm not really good at hot steamy romance. But I'll try my best. I'll start here and everything should develop in the 3rd book :) so there. Enjoy!