You continue to stand parallel to the Head-Zealot, slowly beckoning him closer to the side with a ledge. While you know you have to end the fight soon, you also know that this won't be an easy fight. The cackling priest advances, holding his heavy Cross out like a rapier, poking it at you, trying to get you to move back. Deciding that staying on the defensive won't save you from this mad man, you take action by leaping in his direction-- he grins, preparing to simply swing upwards to hit you, but manage to somersault out of the old man's swipe, and land a heavy kick to his face. He staggers backwards, his hand on his eye in a mixture of pain and anger. Tomas angrily sends another swipe with his sword at you, but you're already charging for him, pushing the old to the ledge that is now to your right with your forearm. The priest coughs, but quickly recovers.

Relentless, you send another barrage of jabs at him, moving close enough to him that his long-range won't be an advantage for him. A mixture of punches and claws manage to cut his robe to shreds, and he struggles to get you off of him-- to no avail. After a silly, pointless scuffle you manage to hold him right by the ledge, where a fall to the death would await him. Tomas holds up his silver cross, creating a pseudo-barrier between the two of you, but you just grab hold of it with your gauntlets, and shove him at the wooden slabs, and slowly increase pressure, slowly increase it. Several seconds more of pushing, and he won't have a choice of how his body breaks, as you'll secure his death in the fall. You shove once more...

Snap.

"There we go... See you in hell, bastard!" The wooden splinters open, and you find the two of you tumbling down at several meters, both grasping for eachothers' throats.

Unfortunately for you, the old man barely manages to grab hold of your hair and uses it as leverage to be just slightly above you...

You both fall with a heavy thud, your armored body crashing through the floor. You struggle to get out of it, as you find your armor almost embedded in to the rubble. Still, you manage to get up, and the sharp pang you feel in your head slowly begins to disappear.

As the dust clears, you find a bleeding Tomas with a bloody eye holding an unconscious David to the wall, his silver sword still gripped in his hands. His remaining useable eye stares right at you, and the priest begins to cackle further, "If you take even one more step towards me, I swear I will slay your disciple right now. But, if you leave me here to die in peace, not of a sinners hand, then I can promise that I will not kill him. Hmm, you like this deal?"

Your loyal ghoul stares at you blankly, and his shaking head can either be interpreted as a plea to let him live or to kill the priest. Or perhaps something else?

Stunned and still recovering, you try to make a decision with a clear head...

You trust in the Priest and continue on to the other building.

"You'll have your own choice of death today, Tomas. But I will honor the deal we made tonight, and I hope, for your sake, that you honor yours."

Father Tomas stares at you with that crazy eye of his, nodding and cocking his head for you to move towards the door before he can release your friend. With an angry sigh, you move past the bloody corpses piled up in the room and hang by the front door.

As David is dropped by the Father, you stand up, ready to continue your mission-- now, to Zealot HQ. David stares at you meekly, trying his best to grunt loudly. You wave to him, expecting him to follow, before opening the front door once again. By now you recognize that the sirens are still blaring, which means that Zealots should be piling up in the streets-- but the street you see has nobody walking. Though you do hear voices from somewhere far to the left, you can't help but notice that Zealot HQ has its door open.

Am I too late? You wonder, as you make haste by running into the building, looking around for someone to waste your adrenaline on. Inside, you see perhaps three half-dressed Zealots yawning and loitering about, seemingly confident that this is a false alarm.

This means nothing to you, and you rush one-- kick him into a nearby table, deck the other one with a heavy punch, and angrily bite into the last one's hand when he tries to strangle you from behind. It's over in a matter of minutes, but you suddenly feel like you're being... Watched.

"Bravo, Demon." Comes the voice. From across the room you can see a white-armored Zealot, taller and more sizeable than most you've seen. He carries with him a silver sword, less blunt than Tomas's though it doesn't seem to resonate with the same energy. "I see you were able to butcher my friends quickly enough, but somehow I doubt you'll manage to take someone like myself as easily."

"Who're you?" You roar, setting yourself in front of him.

"Zealot Karat, Chief of the Zealots." He grins, "At least, until the real Chief comes home from your clever diversion.

"If." You state, bluffing. I have no idea what happened with Gideon and the other Zealots... "If, he comes back."

Katar doesn't bother answering, and instead positions himself with his silver katana in an aggressive fighting position. Once again, you find yourself in a tactical situation that you need to decide how to approach. You need to be careful about his silver sword and make sure to finish the fight quickly, but he's probably more spry than that bastard, Tomas.

You fight defensively, as to make sure that katana doesn't touch you.

Fueling your rage into reserve energy, to be used when necessary, you plant your feet to the ground, readying yourself for the Zealot.

Karat laughs, lazily letting his sword's tip fall to the ground. The man's bravery (or is it bravado?) astonishes you, "So, you fear God's might?"

"Maybe, but not your's." Comes your sharp answer.

"Then how come you haven't readied yourself to attack? Are you worried you won't make the cut?"

"I'm simply more confident in your ability to leave yourself open, thanks."

Karat shrugs, "Suit yourself, Vampire. Perhaps you shall find fear of God's servant instaed." With that, he raises his silver katana, it gleaming in the neon lights of the building. His stance confirmed, aggressive, he poises to attack. The white Zealot advances, giving a wide and open slash in the air to test you.

Of course, you pass with barely any effort-- just a turn of the neck. Karat laughs once again, and attempts to bum-rush you-- but your defensive stance gives you an advantage, and with clever foot work you grip his wrist, pull, and flip him onto a nearby table. It cracks under the pressure of an armored giant slammed onto it, but the Zealot gets back up and, still gripping his katana, sends a swift vertical cut down at you. You attempt to dodge, but you'd admit that you didn't expect him to get back up so fast, and the slash sticks into your shoulder-armor, just barely missing your skin.

As lucky as you were back there, now Karat has the initiative. He pulls the sword back, grabbing you with it and sending a heavy boot at your stomach. You begin to tip over, but you're sent backwards by a heavy, gauntleted punch to your nose-- which sends you back several feet and onto the ground. Your vision blurs slightly though you manage to get up before Karat manages to land a more accurate cut at your forehead, and manage to grapple him, using the core of your body to push him back. Your nose for some reason still bloodied, you continue to prefer close quarters, where your pinging head won't hamper your vision. Using the anger built up, you manage to grab hold of his helmet with both hands, and squeeze.

The man screams, much like your ghoul did not so long ago. They all do, the humans scream in pain, struggle and kick in their last moments. And as the helmet crumples up and the man goes limp, you embrace your inner demon and drink him dry. The blood is refreshing and your vision clears, but then you notice why his armor is so bright. Must be inlaid with silver...

You shrug. Does it really matter if the Zealots have been inlaying their weapons with silver? The Wolves can take care of themselves...


Regardless, realizing that there aren't any Zealots left in the building, you leave to see how the war is going. Mission Successful. You get up, and stretch, getting ready to make your way to see how the Wolves fared.

Suddenly... "DIE DEMON!" Comes the familiar thundering, though gravely voice.  You hear and feel the heavy thud of a metal beam smashing into your skull. You double over, barely conscious, but you're able to make out the blue robe of the Father, now striped with rust-colored blood in front of you. "While it is saddening to think that you got this far, I am happy to relinquish you of your dark life-force, as I did to the man whom you corrupted. Good night."


You have been killed by the hands of the Church.