The Gamer Chapter 1675 – City Steps [Claire POV] (Patreon)

‘Wonder how Layla is doing?’

Claire rubbed the back of her neck, then glanced at the back of her hand. The brown skin was unfamiliar and yet not. Merciless rays had scorched her skin in a life long past. Paleness had taken its place once her vampiric powers had fully awoken. Sometimes she wondered whether her Innate Ability was truly just that or if she hadn’t been human to begin with.

‘Why did I grow up in the desert anyway?’ she asked herself. Even before the sun had begun to burn her, she and her tribe had not been of a particularly dark-skinned variety. Back then, she had thought nothing of it. Now that she had more knowledge of biology and the purpose of melanin in specifics, she did have to wonder how it was that the palest people had lived in the desert of the Iron Domain, while darker skinned inhabitants of the Iron Domain had been made to live in the mountains. ‘Just another cruelty of Arkeidos.’

Thinking of the tyrant depressed her mood for a moment, then it was lifted straight back to the stratosphere. He was dead. Killed by his own hand because he had lost to her beloved. The best revenge was a life lived well and she was living the best life as a cute maid for the perfect Master.

Well, she was not that cute at the moment.

Claire wore the combined faces of three different women. The combined features created a wholly new face that only the most intricate comparison tools could have realized was an artificial visage and only if it also had access to those three original faces. Less work had gone into her body. The width of her hips had been reined in, her spine slightly bent, and a facsimile of fat deposited where appropriate, all to create the image of a woman that fit in with the mundane locals. Claire had aimed for someone that was still on the better looking side of things, but not good enough to really grab attention.

Strutting through the streets, Claire patrolled the artificially lit city. The accursed sun had vanished beneath the horizon hours ago. Most of her beloved were asleep, blissfully slumbering with her Master. To lay with him, cuddle him through the night, take in his scent while her tireless body shivered in delight of his closeness, those would all be her just reward for her services rendered.

To assure that John’s will was done, she was his best instrument during these dark hours, however. She lounged and lingered in the lightless rooms of their mobile home when the daystar was spreading its bothersome light and in return operated when her senses were at her sharpest. No one had asked this of her. That was what made this wonderful gathering of fellow seekers of Master’s love so efficient. All pulled their weight.

‘All good out there?’ she heard his flawless baritone rumble in her mind. Claire almost stopped in her walk, seized up by wanton shivers, but managed to maintain the façade of the walking, average, unenlightened woman.

‘All is wonderful, all is peaceful, all is of no worry to you,’ the vampire maid responded in a sing-song tone. ‘Return to your rest, my beloved, my Master, and let me ensure that all is quiet this night.’

John reached out to entangle her thoughts for a moment. Barely, Claire caught herself against a wall. She bit back the moan. Her entire mind was consumed by a flowering sensation of love and obsession. The adoration for him made all words and concepts that had nothing to do with his brilliance drown in the symphony of pure emotion. Mana pulsed through her magical circuitry like an accelerated heartbeat.

‘To know love as deeply as you do,’ John spoke, with a little hint of serious envy, before retreating from her mind.

Claire would have loved to show him how to do it, but some people just weren’t as blessed as she was. They had a limitation, a point at which other instincts let themselves be known again. No such thing existed for Claire. All was subservient to her love for him. All.

Too few understood. Aclysia did, of course. Beatrice did, in her own way. Siena was at the edge, but she never took the plunge. Layla understood, thoroughly, that was why-

Claire stopped herself and double checked that her Master no longer was in her mind. He had retreated, pulled back the thought feelers that he managed to assert via the Creator Double that was sleeping in a hotel in real space. A relay, so even sleeping he could act as a communication node between Claire and others that may decide to patrol the city during the night.

Technically, he could have stayed in communication with her all night. In practice, keeping his mind active even as his body rested led to stress and Claire did not want her John to be stressed unnecessarily.

Besides, it made it difficult to focus when he was always on her mind.

Claire’s gaze snapped to a spider that was crawling up the wall next to her. Motionlessly, she waited for the red-black arachnid to reach her ear. Mandibles clicked and rubbed quietly next to her ear. The communication was useless to anyone else, but the vampire maid understood precisely what was being said.

“Oh?” She pushed herself off the wall and got moving.

The spider skittered ahead of her. It was too small to gather any mundane attention, if any of those that currently busied themselves with drink even cared to look out of their window. Claire was capable of following it courtesy of their connection more than her sight. These spiders were meant to be stealthy and even she couldn’t reliably keep her eyes on a dark, thin animal the size of a fingernail at fifty metres distance.

The spider stopped at a street corner, ran three circles, then rushed up a wire pole. Claire had arrived and to waste one of the ten spiders that could operate at an infinite range here was useless. Not that making a new one would have cost her much.

Raising her hand, Claire entered the Illusion Barrier.

What little motion of air there had been in the hot night stopped. All light around was extinguished or, rather, it never existed in the first place in this newly opened space. In its absence, stars and moon should have shone brightly, but the cover of clouds kept that from occurring as well. The darkness was nearly absolute and comforting.

Claire began to stumble forwards. “W-what happened?!” she mumbled to herself, in a panic. Her eyes dashed around, incapable of hanging onto any of the forms around her. It was just too dark. She ran shoulder first into a wall, gasping in panic, then laughing to herself as if someone had told a very awkward joke. Using the wall as her support, she slowly advanced forwards.

She stopped moments before bumping into the chest of the creature before her.

It was a pale horse. Even in the limited light of the starless night, a mundane eye would have caught it at this distance. It was mangled, so thin that all of its bones were visible through the stretched skin. Its flank was sunken in, to the point that one had to wonder if there were any organs left between its ribcage and the jutting protrusions of its hips.

Claire snapped backwards, screaming in surprise. She fell on her back. Above her was the head of the horse. Chapped lips were peeled backwards, revealing fangs sitting at the corner of sharp teeth that were supposed to cut grass and grind hay. Sunken, milky eyes stared at her.

Sunken, milky eyes also stared down from the figure on top of the horse. Hunched forwards, the rider had trouble staying in the worn down saddle. He wore armour that may once have fit him, but now sat loose and crooked on his bony form. Sorry nests of hair grew from the scalp of the starving entity. Parts of the skin were rotting away from malnutrition. A clean rot, disgustingly, without pus or blood. The skin was just so thin, it gave away to bone in some spots.

When the entity spoke, he did so with a parched voice, “What do we…” He only got three words out, before a coughing fit wrecked both him and his horse. Each heave was as dry as his voice, as if moisture was a foreign concept to both man and beast. “…have here? A scrumptious young… thing?”

“W-w-w-what are you!” Claire stammered.

“I… believe….” Another set of hackles. “…the people of your texts call me… Famine… the second rider….” He tilted his head with a dusty crack. His entire body tilted along with the motion, swaying so far that he fell out of the saddle.

Metal and bones clattered, as the famished rider hit the pavement. He looked like a half-decayed corpse from a medieval battlefield, yet he lay on the dark tar of a modern city street. Groaning and grunting, he rolled onto his stomach. He dragged himself forwards on one hand towards Claire.

“Listen to… me…” he coughed. “Come… closer…”

Claire shivered head to toe, but nodded and leaned in. “W-w-what is any of this? Am I… am I dead?”

“No… no…” Famine now was right before her, prone on the floor. His plate armour was a mess of scratches, but as clean as his diminished face. “…Worse… you’re one of mine…” He grinned and revealed a pair of fangs.

Claire smacked the side of the horse’s head. The impact made the vampirically cursed animal miss the neck of the maid by enough of a margin to buy her time. She aimed to jump to her feet, but Famine grabbed her ankle. “Uncouth behaviour!” the now standing but anchored maid complained.

“I assure… no molestation is intended… by me… or them…”

Glaring over her shoulder, Claire saw three dozen skeletal warriors in full armour storm down the street. A wave of her hand loosened red and black mana. It mingled with the surrounding darkness into the shape of a massive wolf that barrelled down the street. A shield wall was hastily put up in response. Bones and metal creaked when the wolf slammed into them.

Whirling back around, Claire used her ability to Manifest a Weapon. A sleek spear laid in her hands and she swiftly aimed it at the wrist still holding her. Energy was seeping out of her at an accelerating rate through the touch.

A motion precise and lethargic moved an impossible blade in the path of her weapon. It was a dirty red, as if forged from rust itself. Oxidation had run its full course, leaving the very process at the end of proverbial digestion. A weapon forever starved of being in prime condition, yet dangerous in and of itself.

Claire did not like giving away abilities early in a battle, but it couldn’t be helped. Rather than stay in the energy-sucking grasp, she willed her form to disperse. Over a hundred individual bats scattered out. A few of them were caught in the snapping jaws of the horse. It hardly mattered.

Claire reformed on top of the flat roof of one of the buildings. Returned to her true skin and proper attire, the vampire maid of the Gamer sat at the edge and gazed down at her enemy. “Why go straight to violence?” she asked. “All I was doing was extracting a little bit of intel from you. Is that so much to ask?”

Famine raised a singular finger. Wheezes and coughs took over before he could formulate a response. While he dragged himself up by his horse, an act that made the animal sway dangerously in the process, Claire scanned the battlefield.

The coordinated forces of undead were doing well at fending off her wolf. She had poured a lot of energy into it, putting the adorable monster of crimson darkness at level 350, by her educated estimation. It was doubtlessly more powerful than those skeleton soldiers, but they had mass and tactics. Their equipment also appeared to be decently well-enchanted.

Her gaze returned to Famine just as managed to stand. He rubbed his throat with the hand that had laid on her ankle a moment ago. Black and red mana seeped into pale, dry skin. The rider sighed in relief. “That’s better.” His voice was still dry, but it no longer sounded like flakes of skin were loosening whenever he exercised his vocal cords. “I was told we were to be secretive about this, so I decided to eliminate witnesses.” The sunken eyes focused her. “Had I known that I was facing a maid of the upstart….”

Claire benevolently waved with her hand. “You can still decide to be obliging right now.”

Famine swayed where he stood. Claire knew the look. The man was drunk on his eternally impending demise. Stress was flooding his system with chemicals supposed to tickle the last energy out of his diminished form at all times. She had seen it many times before. Mettle addiction had created similar effects.

“I hate looking at you,” she hissed.

“How fitting…” Famine wheezed once. “…I was thinking the same… remind me… you shan’t die as long as I leave your core intact, yes?”

Claire’s green eyes flashed red. “You would knowingly fight a woman of the Gamer?”

“A warning must be given.” Dusty bones snapped as Famine reached with jagged motions for the helmet dangling from the saddle of his steed. “An old debt is being called in. It is not your place to MEDDLE!”

Famine suddenly threw his sword. The withered form belied the power within. Claire had anticipated the attack, however, and turned into another swarm of bats. A singular one of her familiars was skewered by the throw. Dead, the familiar tried to turn into a Bloodsliver. Instead, it was absorbed into the rust.

The swarm consolidated on top of a wire pole. After swinging his leg over the bent back of his steed, Famine rode towards the vampire maid. The horse leapt upwards. ‘What level might this enemy be? 400? 500? 600? It does not take much to be my physical equal… Without Master’s gaze, the answer will remain an enigma.’

Claire spread out her hands. Sparks of her magic grew into eight-legged monsters. The spiders stood on top of the wires like they were their own net. Silk was shot from their maws, entangling the feet of the horse. The leap was impressive, but it was not flying. One tug and the famished steed was yanked to the ground.

Loosening himself from the seat, the rider jumped at Claire. Boney fingers reached out for her. She knocked them aside with her own hand. Both vampires opened their maws wide. Fangs protruded. They slammed into each other. Teeth broke through metal and skin.

Sucking the life force out of each other, the two of them slammed into the concrete below. It was a struggle in which they competed for who could drain the other of energy faster. It was more than that for Claire. With each gulp of his disgustingly viscous essence, she was filled with a mimicry of his powers. As she drank, she understood.

The initial blood sucking was in her favour, but Famine was like a boundless black hole of hunger. Where her Sanguine resource filled, his devouring of her life force only accelerated.

Another wolf spawned on top of them, grabbing Famine between its mighty jaws and ripping the rider off Claire. His teeth left groves as they were removed. They healed as the wolf thrashed around, Famine still in its jaw. The rider was only released when his steed galloped over, freed from the silk of the spiders, and kicked the wolf in the side with its hindlegs.

“Join the other,” Claire ordered once the wolf had come to a halt. It bobbed its head, then stormed to join the fray against the skeletons. That supporting force could tip the balance, especially now that she was facing an invigorated opponent. “I lost that wager. I lost that bet. I lost that bet with fate, did I not?”

“That you did,” Famine answered, his voice almost smooth. Rider and steed both stood proud now, armour and equipment mended, flesh and muscle almost returned. Still they were thin and still their posture was lacking, but they were a far cry from the diminished creatures they had been a moment ago. A fresh sword manifested in Famine’s hand, part rust, part mithril.

Claire was empowered when she drank blood. She could mimic the abilities of those that she had taken Sanguine from, for a limited time and in a limited amount. Famine regenerated towards his prime potential, whatever that was.

“I mean, what did you expect?” the almost handsome man asked and shook his head. “Going in a hunger war against Famine itself?”

“Information is worth a lot, even if your disgusting blood ultimately isn’t.” Claire turned her wrist, spawning several more wolves around her. “It can be turned into more familiars, at least.”

“You have to run out of mana at some point.”

“Perhaps.” Claire took two dancing steps backwards, letting the four canines take the front. “Granted, it does not matter.” She reached into her inventory. “Do you know what this is?”

“A blood bag?” Famine raised one of his dark eyebrows. “I mean, works as a snack, but you won’t get much mana out of blood that’s not fresh.”

Claire’s grin widened menacingly. To explain that the inventory granted by her Master worked like a stasis chamber was unnecessary. The proof was in the blood pudding.

Sinking her teeth past the plastic, Claire began to suck. In the first split second, Famine realized something was off. Jumping his steed mid-gallop, he charged at Claire. The sword lengthened into a lance, turning the first wolf that jumped at them into a red cloud that was immediately absorbed. The other three canines hardly served as more of an obstacle.

Claire did not need much time to empty the bag to the last drop. Crumpled plastic hit the ground. A gleeful, half-crazed giggle rose in her throat. Then, she vanished from Famine’s perception.

“What the-“

Nightingale’s powers faded only after Claire had repositioned herself with another bag removed from her inventory. She gulped it down just as fast, then casually took a half step to the side, dodging the incoming throw of the rider before he could finish it.

All was clear to Claire now. A second sight had opened, offering her a view of the battlefield clearer than any night vision. Confidently, she charged forwards. Famine growled and pointed his palm in her direction. Before the necromantic powers could rip the life force from her frame, she was out of the cone. The vision of green energies pulling through her never came to pass.

Famine tried to keep his eyes on her as she dodged, but the veil of night covered her. Only when she was already ramming the tip of her spear through the visor did the rider realize how close she was. His return swipe was fast, faster than anything she could have reacted to at a regular speed. Fortunate that she was reacting to the motion before it even happened.

“Ehe,” Claire laughed, cute mixing with crazy. She was ready to go for another strike, to use the blood expended for all that it was worth and to-

Leaping back, Claire narrowly dodged a standard that fell from the sky. The entirety of the Illusion Barrier was suddenly basked in radiant, golden light that made both vampires hiss with disdain. “What shame you bring on the title of the riders, Limos!” A magnanimous voice boomed.

“I-“

“The master has summoned us,” a harsh, third person immediately interrupted.

“Tsk,” Famine clicked his tongue.

Claire was still trying to adjust her eyes to the light. She saw two more riders in the intense light. All turned away from her, hooves clopping as they rode away. “Take this warning to your owner, pet,” the deep, full voice of the first speaker announced. “Death is in this realm. Interfere in our business at your own peril.”

Then, the light was suddenly gone.