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Chapter Text

Wallachia, 1455

Bats flutter and screech through a field filled with hundreds, if not thousands, of skeletons impaled as the wind blows. One of the bats squeals as a girl with blond hair and firm blue eyes, her relatively dainty face kept in a braid, kills it out of the air. Lisa approached an unusual castle with tall doors, their surfaces marred by the bodies of the impaled displayed behind her. Taking a shaky breath, she knocked on the heavy metal doors, which then opened on their own. As she stepped inside, the castle was illuminated by candles and various light sources. Clutching a knife in her hand, she felt the doors shut firmly behind her. In the distance, she spotted a tall, imposing figure draped in a cloak.

“My name is Lisa,” she said, sheathing her blade. “I am from the village of Lupu, and I want to be a doctor.”

The tall figure moved into the shadows and then appeared on the same floor as Lisa. "You bang on my front door because you want to daub chicken blood on peasants," the figure said as it slipped back into the darkness.

"Don't mistake me for a witch. Everyone out there already does that," Lisa replied, a hint of anger in her voice. "I believe in science, but..." A cape fluttered in the distance. "...I need to know more. I've exhausted my other options, and all the stories say the man who lives here has secret knowledge." She finished, unknowingly backing up into the shadows.

Suddenly, the figure appeared behind her, his face illuminated in the flickering light. He was a pale man with a sharp face and thick eyebrows, long black hair, red eyes, pointy ears, a mustache and goatee, and two sharp, pointy teeth. "I am Vlad Dracula Tepes, and I do not receive many visitors," he said, leaning close to her neck with his sharp nails raised.

Lisa calmly moved away and firmly turned to face him. "Perhaps I could help you relearn some manners," she suggested. Dracula halted his forward motion and straightened up. "I've crossed the threshold of your home, and you haven't offered me a drink or even to take my coat," she added, crossing her arms.

"What if I took a drink from you?" he asked, stepping closer. "Or have you loaded yourself with silver, crosses, and garlic in superstitious fear?" There was venom in his voice.

With a shocked expression on her face, she covered her mouth. "I might have eaten some roasted garlic earlier. Was that rude? I—it was all I had left," she said, her concern evident as she glanced at Dracula, who was staring at her thoughtfully. "I'm really not interested in superstition or being some muttering wise woman cheating people with boiled nettles and entrails. I want to heal people. I want to learn. Will you help me?" She rambled as he circled her.

"You are definitely different from most humans I have met in recent times," he remarked appraisingly.

"Maybe I can teach you to like people again, or at least tolerate them, or to stop putting them on sticks," she replied straightforwardly. Dracula chuckled and walked away.

"I gave that up a long time ago. Where is Lupu Village?" he asked as Lisa trailed after him.

"You don't travel much," she observed as they walked side by side.

"I can travel. This entire structure is a traveling machine," he retorted, glancing around the castle.

"But... you don't, do you?" she questioned, tilting her head slightly. "Maybe you should. The world is changing." She then stood directly in front of him, challenging him. "Travel, like people do. You might like it."

Dracula raised an eyebrow. "I've known you for two minutes, and you offer me to walk the earth like an ordinary peasant while I give you the knowledge of immortals, the true science," he said, gesturing toward a room tinted in a golden hue and filled with books and telescopes.

Lisa gasped, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the brilliant room. Her gaze traveled from bubbling beakers to whirring mechanics. "My! They won't be peasants anymore if you teach them," she exclaimed, turning to him. Dracula's expression suggested otherwise. "They won't live such short, frightened lives if they have real medicine," she continued, approaching him as his eyebrows furrowed. "They won't be superstitious if they learn how the world really works."

Dracula chuckled, one eyebrow raised. "Why should I do that?"

"To make the world better," she answered without backing down. "Start with me, and I'll start with you," she insisted, placing a hand on her hip.

Amusement crossed his face as he bowed before her. "I think I might like you," he declared.

Lisa smiled and continued to explore the room, with Dracula following closely behind.

Targoviste, Wallachia: 1475

A crowd of townspeople surrounds a fire, murmuring among themselves. Churches and religious symbols are everywhere. Lisa, with her short and messy hair and tattered clothes, is tied to a stake, flames licking at her feet. She gasps painfully as priests hold out crosses around her. “So, there were devil engines in her house, Bishop?” asks the Mayor, a round man with brown hair and a beard, as he approaches the Bishop. The Bishop, a stern older man with gray hair, simply watches the flames burn.

"I saw them with my own eyes," the Bishop said calmly. "And glass in shapes you've never seen, as thin as paper. Lightning. Strange weeds and tools. Witch's implements. Of all the witches I've hunted down, none had such a collection." He continued while the crowd looked on in horror and various other expressions.

"And it had to come to this?" the Mayor asked, his tone incredulous.

"She called it all science, Mayor," the Bishop explained. "Lisa Tepes of Lupu was so far gone that she couldn't see it was all given to her by Satan."

The Mayor began to stroke his beard thoughtfully. "I've done a little studying of the chemical sciences myself, you know." The Bishop stared at him, causing the Mayor to stammer. "J-just a study, of course. I-I'd never think to practice such things."

"The Archbishop would prefer that life in Wallachia remain simple, Mayor," the Bishop said, his gaze fixed on the flames. He smiled at Lisa's screams while the Mayor looked frightened. "Simple. Pure. Good." He continued as Lisa groaned.

While crying, Lisa shouted to the sky, "Don't hurt them! They don't understand!"

"Who's she talking to?" the Mayor asked.

"I believe she is pleading with Satan not to take revenge on us, which I suppose is almost commendable for a witch. Perhaps I will say a small prayer for her," the Bishop replied with a smirk.

Lisa gasps and coughs from the smoke and ash. She looks up at the sky and continues speaking. "I know it's not your fault, but... if you can hear me, they don't know what they're doing. Please, be better than them!" she screams as the flames continue to engulfher.

Deep into the night, a thick fog envelops the town as Dracula crosses a bridge, the water beneath bubbling softly. He walks past villagers engaged in conversation, his hand adorned with a silver band on his ring finger, a bag slung over his shoulder, and his hair flowing in the wind. As he continues forward, the wind picks up, and blood drops paint a path in the snow. Sensing urgency, he quickens his pace as a raven caws and takes flight from the bushes. He arrives at a destroyed, burning house. An old woman, clutching white flowers in her hand, approaches him from behind. "Are you Mr. Tepes? She spoke about you," she asks. Dracula turns to face her.

"What happened? Where is my wife?" he inquires, concern etched on his face.

"Oh no. The Bishop took her," she says sadly, looking down at the ground. "He accused her of witchcraft. They're burning her at the stake." Her hands tighten around the flowers, causing some petals to shake and fall off. "She was good to me, your wife. A good doctor," she continues as she walks up and gently places the flowers down. "It's not right what happened."

"Where are they holding her? In the cathedral?" he asks, side-eyeing the old lady.

“Oh. Oh no, sir. She’ll be dead by now,” she says, looking away from him sadly. His hand clenches into a fist.

"What?" he says as his cloak covers his face.

With her back turned to him and her head down, she continues, "I couldn't be there. I don't care what they say. I won't take joy in that woman being killed by the Church. I'm here to remember her instead."

A blood tear falls from his face as he tilts his head down. "She said to me, 'If you would love me as a man, then live as a man. Travel as a man.'" He looks down at his hands.

"She said you were traveling," the woman replies, standing up and looking at his back.

"I was. The way men do. Slowly." He clenches his hands. "No more."

He faces the woman, his eyes red, and she gasps. "I do this last kindness in her name, she who loved you humans and cared for your ills. Take your family and leave Wallachia tonight." She takes a step back in fear as fire suddenly erupts beneath his feet. "Pack and go, and do not look back..." He bursts into flames, and at that moment, she lets out a terrible cry, "...for I no longer travel as a man."

The explosion knocks her over, and she clutches her cross as fire engulfs Dracula, who teleports away. She regains consciousness, the cross fallen from her hand, and stands up to flee as the white flowers burn around her.

Back with the Bishop, the flames continue to burn away Lisa's skeleton and clothes while the crowd simply watches as her bones clatter and fall apart. The villagers cheer and clap and the Mayor approaches the Bishop. "Ah. There. Quite a show. Drinks?" He asks.

The Bishop yawned. "I should minister to the Archbishop. I fear he’s not long for this world, to be honest," he said as he walked away. 

The Mayor continued to trail behind him, asking questions. "Off to heaven with him, eh? I suppose that’s the ultimate goal for you priests—serving God in His true house and all that."

"It holds little appeal for me, to be honest," the Bishop replied.

Surprised, the Mayor asked, "Really? There’s so much left to be done on Earth. Wallachia could be God’s own country if I only had the time to burn out all the evil that hides here." The Bishop clenched his fist and looked up at the sky.

Suddenly, there was an explosion from the flames, and both men turned back to face the fire. The flames coalesced into the shape of a skull. "What have you done?" the fiery skull asked.

The Mayor stepped back in fear and shouted, "Satan!" The fiery skull transformed into a fiery Dracula, who asked again in a distorted voice, "What have you done to my wife?"

The Bishop pulled out a gold cross. "In nomine Patris et Filii..." He was cut off by Dracula.

"I am Vlad Dracula Tepes, and you will tell me why this has happened to my wife," he demanded, as the flames grew brighter.

"Oh no! Oh God! Dracula! He was supposed to be a myth—a story made up by heretics!" the Mayor stammered in fear.

"She... she’s a witch," the Bishop shouted.

"Lisa Tepes was a woman of science, the one person who justified humanity's presence on this planet," Dracula retorted.

"You are not real. You are a figment of imagination that justifies the practice of black magic!" the Bishop sneered in response.

Dracula turns back into the fire skull and shouts, "A fiction! You take my wife and deny I even exist! I give you one year, Wallachians. You have one year to make your peace and remove any marks you have made upon the land. One year, and then I'll wipe all human life from the land of Wallachia. You took that which I love, so I will take from you everything you have and everything you have ever been. One year."

An unearthly howl is released, shattering the glass and making the winds blow rapidly. People gasp in terror as hellfire rains from the sky and they run away.way. Back in his castle Dracula releases an angry cry and rips the pages out of books, breaks the glass beakers, and destroys the table while panting. "One year! It will take me one year to summon an army from the guts of Hell itself!"

The heavy doors to his study swung open, letting in a bright light that obscured the figure of the man who had just entered. 

"No." 

"What do you mean, no? That woman was the only reason I tolerated human life!" Dracula shouted as he turned to face the figure. 

"Then find the one responsible for her death. If you unleash an army of the night on Wallachia, you cannot undo it, and countless innocent people, just like her, will suffer and die," the figure replied calmly.

"There are no innocents! Not anymore! Any one of them could have stood up and said, No, we won't behave like animals anymore." Dracula shouts back.

"I won't let you do it. I grieve with you, but I won't let you commit genocide." The man narrows his eyes as he responds back.

Dracula lets out an angry cry and strikes at the man with a fierce slash.

Targoviste, Wallachia: 1476

A choir sings, and the crowd buzzes with happy chatter. As the heavy doors of the church swing open, the Archbishop, an elderly and portly man, is carried out. 

"Ah, for twenty years I have served you and God as the Archbishop of Targoviste Cathedral. Yet never before have I felt the love of God shine so brightly upon this great city. A little more than a year ago, many of us experienced a vision during the God-ordained punishment of a witch among us. The devil himself came to us and threatened us with doom within a year. And yet, here we stand. The devil lied. Why should we be surprised?—"

The Archbishop raises his hand as the skies darken. 

"—Do we not know the devil as a liar? Do we not recognize his works as mere illusions? Of course we do. Illusions and falsehoods hold no fear for us, for we are the righteous of Targoviste, cradled in the love of God." 

He concludes as blood drops begin to splatter onto his hand.

It begins to rain blood heavily and cries start to rise from the crowd as they start to get dosed in blood, winged flesh creatures begin to plummet from the sky, the pavement shake and crack, glass starts to shatter. The Archbishops falls from his seat as two big glass shards impale him. A woman screams in the distance as the Church bursts into flames. The fire and smoke transforms into the face of Dracula in the sky. "One year. I gave you one year to make your peace with your God. And what do you do? Celebrate the day you killed my wife. One year I gave you, while I assembled my armies. And now I bring your death. You had your chance." He says as he fades away in the sky.

An explosion happens and Dracula's castle rises from the ground while there's fire and shouting everywhere. All of the castle's shutters open and winged beasts fly out of the window, tearing the villagers apart, eating the children's intestines, shooting fire balls at houses burning them to a crisp instantly. Dead bodies cover the streets as the bats return back to the castle.

Ravens fly around forming Dracula's face in the sky, "Kill everything you see. Kill them all. And once Targoviste has been made into a graveyard for my love, go forth into the country. Go now. Go to all the cities of Wallachia: Arges! Severin! Gresit! Chilia! Enisara! Go now and kill. Kill for my love! Kill for the only true love I ever knew. Kill for the endless lifetime of hate before me." Dracula's says as the winged creatures fly and run away.

In a nearby wet village, there was a tavern where two men were having a conversation. "So I said to him, 'It's my goat. I've been tending goats since I was four years old,'" Bosha, a short, stocky man, said.

A tall, lanky man named Kob nodded in response. "Right, right," he agreed.

"And I'd know if my goat was in love with you," Bosha continued.

"For God's sake," Kob exclaimed.

"He told me, 'I know your goat's in love with me,'" Bosha added. 

"So you said how, Bosha?"

"So I says how! And he says, "Well, she fucks me, don't she?"" Bosha chugs from his ale.

"And that's when you hit him."

Bosha slams the drink down against the table. "Right across the eyes with a shovel. And now the headman says I have to pay the bastard money because he went blind."

"Not fair." Kobs says chugging his ale.

"So I says to him, "You didn't think he was gonna go blind fucking a goat with mange?"" Bosha says while wiping his mouth.

"That would have been your fault, too."

"I would have gotten blamed for that, too. But what am I supposed to do when I find my goat laying on its side in the field, fucked within an inch of its life and a naked man with blood and straw all over his peck?"

"Hit him with a shovel!"

"Fucking right I hit him with a shovel! More ale for me and my cousin Kob!"

"Brother."

"Look, we might have had the same father, but you came out of my aunt. Don't make me get my shovel."
"Anyone else need something while I'm pouring?" the bartender asks as he serves drinks to Kob and Bosha.

"One over here," a man at a nearby table calls out.

Suddenly, a boy rushes into the tavern. "Ale! For Christ's sake!" he shouts in a panic as he slams the door behind him.

"Piter! We were just wondering if you spotted any attractive sheep on your ride out. What's the word, mate?" Bosha asks as Piter approaches the bar.

The bartender pours out the ale, and Piter quickly gulps it down. "The horde's been seen, sweeping west!" he responds.

"Shit! Do you think they'll reach us?" Kob asks.

"I think they might pass us by. I'm not sure. I hope so. I've heard they're closing in on Gresit," Piter replies, panting. 

"Serves them right, those stuck-up bastards," Bosha grumbles. 

"Ah, come on," the bartender interjects.

"No, it all comes down to the families and the houses, doesn't it? The great houses of Gresit." He spits on the floor. "Take Vlad Dracula, for example. An old family. The capital is all run by these great houses, and they aren't even the worst. What about the Belmonts?"

A man with dark hair, silver eyes, a scar across one eye, and a scruffy beard wearing a fur coat glances up. "We should have ended all the Belmonts," Bosha adds.

The man looks away, covering his face. "Shit."

Chapter Text

Bosha slams his ale against the counter and spits on the ground. "It's all about these old families, like the Belmonts, who control all the power and go to war with each other. And who's caught in the middle?" He asks.

"We are." Kob says.

"We are! Because we don't matter. Do you know why? Where'd you come from?" Bosha shouts.

"Well, out of your aunt, according to you." Kob recalls.

You came from shit. I came from shit. We all came from shit. We just work for a living every day of our lives. We just keep those bastards in food and wool. Slaves! That's what we are. Slaves to great old families and their games." Bosha says with his finger against Kobs' chest.

Looking down at his cup the man, flushed because of the ale, gets up and sits at the bar. "Sorry. Can I get my ale? It's just that I think I'm sobering up." He asks.

"All right, all right, but wanna see some coin from you now." The bartender says firmly.

The man grumbles and starts rummaging around for some coin while Bosha stares at the man noticing a crest on his shirt.

"Hey, what's that on your chest?" Bosha asks with his eyes narrowed as the man glances upwards at him.

"Oh... my shirt." The man says sarcastically as he finds a bag of coin to give to the bartender. "Just one more tankard, eh? Something to keep me warm while I find a tree to sleep under."

"That's a family crest. I know it." Bosha says firmly walking over to the man.

"I don't. Just one more drink and then I'll leave, all right?" The man says looking towards the bartender.

"That's a Belmont crest." Bosha continues getting right into the man's face surprising him slightly.

"Really? Look, here's the money." The man says tossing the bag against the counter while the bartender just watches with his arms crossed.

"You're a Belmont, aren't you? House of Belmont, Family Belmont!" Bosha shouts with venom as Piter and Kob surround the man slightly.

The man rubs his temples, "Never met them. Listen, just forget it. I'll just go." The man says as he tries to walk off.

"No! You're a Belmont! This is all your fault." Bosha shouts shoving the man making him stumble slightly.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The man says after he catches his footing.

"Yes, you do." Kob says walking up to the man as he makes his hands into fists.

"Yes, you do." Bosha agrees, "Everyone knows the Belmonts dealt in black magic. The Belmonts dealt with monsters."

The man glares slightly at Bosha. " The Belmonts fought monsters, son... so I'm told." The man says after catching himself and looks away before looking back at Bosha, "This is just an old shirt." The man clarifies.

"The Belmonts were excommunicated by the church, banished, disowned, their lands taken because they were evil." Bosha says while glaring at the man.

"Evil." Kob says backing up Bosha.

"And now Dracula's hordes are abroad in the land. And whose fault is that?" Bosha says clenching his fist.

"Well, it ain't mine." The man says.

"The Belmonts traded in black magic, and now black magic is all over Wallachia. I think you know exactly whose fault that is." Bosha continues as he glares at the man.

"I'm leaving, okay? I'm leaving now." The man says with his hands raised as he tries to walk away.

"So you can lead your monster friends back here?" Bosha asks while stopping the man from leaving.

"So I can find somewhere to piss and somewhere else to sleep." The man retorts glaring at Bosha.

"No, you can sleep right here." Bosha glares back.

The man smirks. "You haven't got your shovel." The man says mockingly.

Bam! Bosha punches the man square in the face making the man stumble and spit blood from his mouth. "I don't need it. Confess, and I'll make it quick. What's your name?" Bosha asks while walking over to the man.

"Jesus of Nazareth. Look, I'm carrying a short sword and a whip." The man jests as he straightens up showing off his sword and whip.

Bosha kicks him the groin making him kneel over. "Try again."

"Trevor Belmont. House of Belmont. Last son of the Belmont family. Happy now?" Trevor says through clenched teeth while holding his prized jewels.

"No." Bosha says as he gets ready to kick again.

Trevor catches the leg mid air as he stands up making Bosha stumble. "Unh! Ooh. Ooh, oh, whoa!" Bosha says as he falls over and hits his head.

"Oi!" The bartender proclaims as he runs over to them.

Trevor stomps on Bosha's face just as the bartender punches him making his stumble while Kob chases them both accidentally stepping on Bosha. "Fucking face down here!" Bosha says painfully.

Trevor parries the bartender's punch. Piter rushes over and socks Trevor's jaw. Trevor ducks under Piter's second punch and shoves Piter. He then goes to knee the bartender and punches him down> Kob, towering over Trevor, Punches him right in the face sending him flying . "That's how you want it? Listen. I used to fight fucking vampires." Trevor says while his nose starts to bleed.

"Unh!" He shouts as Piter sneak attacks him from the side.

Piter rushes over and grabs Trevors' arms behind his back tightly. "Kick him!" Piter shouts.

Kob smiles and he kicks Trevor in the groin. Trevor while wincing looks up to glare at Kob "Would you please leave my testicles alone?"  "Ugh!" He says after the bartender socks him.

Trevor headbuts Piter breaking his nose making Piter let go of Trevor's arms as he falls down to the floor in pain. He then dodges the bartender's attack and grabs the bartender's face and slams it against a table.  "I'm Trevor fucking Belmont, and I've never lost a fight to man nor fucking beast."

The bartender kick's Trevor's legs from the floor making Trevor fall over. "Oh, shit." Trevor says as Kob towers over him with a chair raise.

"Oh, Christ." Trevor says as he walks out of the tavern limping.

He then pukes out his guts on the road. "Bastards. I hope you all bleed out. Through your arses! Mm... every last rat bastard one of you." He shouts as he continues to walk.

After sleeping against a tree he wakes up with a pounding headache from his hangover. He continues his walk through the woods while holding his temples until he is at a clearing. "Oh. Oh. Bloody Gresit. Last stop between me and starvation. The next town's 40 bloody miles away." He says as he sees the town in the distance.

Suddenly there's a screech and Trevor looks around until he spots winged creatures near the town's sewage dispenser as they run away one creature with an infant in their mouth. Screaming can be heard as the people of Gresit find their loved ones ripped apart bloody, heads are on spikes while their intestines are used as decor for the town. "Here we go." Trevor says as he approaches the town.

He notices the gate being barrocated. "Hmm. No one's getting in, and no one's getting out. Pretty sure they wouldn't do that just to deny me breakfast."

He looks around and hops over to the sewer. "Hmm. Whoa." He shouts as fresh sewage rushes out.

"God forbid you should warn anyone before emptying your fucking shit pots. Never thought I'd be so hungry I'd climb a shit pipe in pursuit of breakfast." He says gagging as he climbs the sewer.

Noticing some guards he pulls out his knife getting ready to kill the guard until he realizes that the guar is sleeping so he simply sneaks past the guard while chuckling. Long scratches covers the town's walls, buildings look destroyed as snow covers them. Trevor grabs his cloak tighter as the wind blows and he walks down the stairs and walk the streets of Gresit where drunks, the injured, the dead, families starving, and people living in makeshift tents could all be spotted. He crosses a bridge where two men toss a body into a pile of dead. Their rotting corpses attract flies and the stench tainting the air. Trevor spits at the pile and walks away. He reaches the market and climbs against a building to sit on the windows ledge. In the townsquare you hear many voices, people wiping down blood removing the heads off spike the intestine and whatever else the horde has left behind. Trevor hops down and walks through the market as he approaches a stand. "What will one coin buy me?" He asks the shopkeeper while she's cleaning her blade.

"Bit of dried goat. Haven't seen you before." The shopkeeper says looking up for the first time.

"I'm just passing through.I'll take it, thanks." Trevor says.

"You want to pass through quicker." The shopkeeper advises as she cuts a slice of meat.

"Yeah, I guess you've got some troubles here. Is there a defense effort?" Trevor asks.

"Don't need it. We got a tribe of Speakers in the city. Once we've done what needs to be done, the demons will leave us alone." She says as she hands over the meat to Trevor.

He takes a bite and tosses a coin towards her and continues to walk through the market food in hand. He begins asking other shopkeepers and villagers for more information while he looks around

"There's an old story, the Sleeping Soldier. They say he was a great hero hundreds of years ago, but now he sleep under the catacombs." One shopkeeper says.

"Hmm, what for?" Trevor asks while smiling.

"To wait until he's needed again, of course. I think he'll come back." The shopkeeper says.

"Really?" Trevor asks.

"Oh, yes, but keep it quiet. The new bishop hates the old wisdom. Dracula's monsters come at night, but the bishop's men come in the middle of the day. You know what I mean?" The shopkeeper says glancing towards Trevor.

"You know what I think? I think the Speakers make the Sleeping Soldier ill. We have no defenses, so of course Dracula's bastards come over the wall every night." A blond shopkeeper says angrily.

"The bishop will sort things out. This city has, not to put too fine a point on it, gone to hell. If the others will just do as he says when he tells us to do it, then all will be in order." Another shopkeeper says.

Trevor continues to eat his dried meat as he strolls the streets of Gresit until he sees three men, two wearing black and one old man wearing blue, walking the opposite direction. One of the men shoves the old man as they are walking and they walk into an alley and he shoves the old man once more."I warned you. You can't say I didn't warn you." The man says as he pulls out his stave.

"You did not listen to me, sir." The old man says with his hands raised.

"Are you talking back to me?" The man asks with his stave pointing at the man.

"No, I'm merely talking to you." The old man says as he pushes away the stave. "Anyone can see that we are not responsible for what befalls Gresit."

"No, keep walking." Trevor mutters to himself as he watches the commotion.

"So, now I'm stupid? I work within the light of God Himself, but you can see things I can't with your magic?" The man says in disgust.

"There's no magic, sir. We are here to help, that's all." The old man clarifies.

The man gets into the old man's face. "Speakers don't help. Speakers are tainted. You attract evil, and you and yours were told to be out of Gresit by sunset." He grabs the old man's face and tilts it towards the sky. "And see? The sun is up. Take a good look at the sunrise, old man."

"Will killing an old man make you less scared of the dark?" The speaker asks.

"I don't know. Maybe it will just make me feel better." The man says with his stave raised high as he smirks.

Trevor grabs his whip and quickly whips the stave out of the man's hand cutting the man's finger in the process. "Oh, hell. I'm sorry. I was trying to snatch the stave
out of your hand. How's your finger?" Trevor asks pointing towards his own finger.

"What fucking finger?!" The man shouts holding his injured hand.

"That's no way for a man of the cloth to talk. Why don't you go and get that looked at?" Trevor smirks.

The man turns to the other man, a bald priest. "Kill the bastard!" The man commands.

"Look, I don't like priests at the best of times. I mean, I really, really don't like priests. If you leave now, we'll say no more about it." Trevor says taking a step forward as he smirks arms stretched out.

"Kill him now!" The man shouts.

"Last warning. This will get nasty." Trevor says in a sing songy tone.

The bald priest looks at the two men and takes out a knife. "Oh, now, that's a funny thing for a priest to be carrying. That's a thief's knife." Trevor says.

The priest rushes towards Trevor. "Seriously? I'm out of practice, but I'm stone-cold sober. Someone will get hurt." Trevor says as he swiftly moves out of the way.

The priest runs towards Trevor and he wraps his whip on the priest's arm sending the priest spinning. The whip snaps and the priest falls to the floor. He gets up and rushes back to Trevor Which Trevor dodges with his back towards the priest. He continues to dodge the priests attacks until he takes out the priest's eye with his whip and the priest cries out in pain clutching his face. Trevor walks away toward the other priest who lost his finger and turns to face him. "Pick him up. Take him back to your church. Don't bother this man or his people again." Trevor says as the priest rushes over towards the other priest and they both run away holding each other.

"The violence wasn't necessary, sir. But...it is appreciated. I am the elder of the Codrii Speakers. Thank you for your kindness and, I think, your restraint." The old man says.

"You're welcome, Elder. Can I accompany you to your train?" Trevor asks.

"We have settled here in Gresit. No caravans. But I would be glad of your company on the way to our lodging." The elder offers.

Trevor follows the old man. "How many are you?" Trevor asks.

"Eleven, though I insist we be counted as 12. One of us is missing, you see." The Elder explains.

They arrive in front of a small house, "This is where we live. Please, come inside. Meet my people." The Elder says warmly.

Trevor walks inside with the old man and a young man stands up from a group of sitting people in cloaks. "Elder, we were worried about you. I told you it was too soon to go outdoors." The young man says.

"And I told you it was necessary to offer aid to the people. However, I was met by some of the Christian priests." The Elder sighs.

"Are you all right?" The young man asks.

"Thanks to this man. Although I fear there may be trouble ahead because of it." The Elder gestures towards Trevors.

"What did you do?" The young man asks Trevor as he walks over to them.

"I'm a little out of practice. They're both still alive." Trevor shrugs and scratches his face.

"You used violence on them?" The young man says with disdain.

"The younger people believe that words can speak louder than actions." The Elder explains.

"Well, you're Speakers. Words are what you do." Trevor simply says.

"You know of us?" The young man asks.

"My family's always been on good terms with Speakers, although my father once got into a fight with one." Trevor says as he walks over towards the window.

"True Speakers do not fight." The young man says.

"When he tried to convince a Speaker to have your oral history transcribed on paper." Trevor clarifies.

"Ah, yes, we are quite protective of our ways. History is a living thing. Paper is dead. Would you like something to eat?" The Elder asks.

"I'd prefer something to drink." Trevor says.

"Arn, bring our friend some water." The Elder commands the young man.

"Oh, the... never mind, then. Maybe you can just tell me why you're here." Trevor says walking over to Arn.

"Speakers live anywhere they deem right. You must know that." Arn says.

"I know Speakers are nomadic tribes. You seem to have been here a while." Trevor says with a raised eyebrow.

"And how do you know that?" Arn asks.

"Because the locals are blaming you for the attacks." Trevor says.

"That's the church's doing. They need something to blame." Arn says.

"To divert people from the truth, that the church itself brought Dracula's hordes down on the land." The Elder says.

"Really?" Trevor asks.

"There were Speakers in Targoviste one year ago. The church burned Dracula's wife at the stake as a witch." The Elder explains.

"Shit." Trevor says.

"That is indeed one way of putting it." The Elder agrees.

"But you didn't answer my question." Trevor pushes further.

The Elder walks over to take a seat while sitting he begins to speak with his head hung low. "There is no structure left in Gresit. No doctors, no aid. If you know Speakers, then you know we can't turn away from those in need. That is why we are here."

Arn walks over where Trevor and the Elder are talking. "May as well tell him the rest." Arn says.

"In Speaker history, there is an old story, a legend, probably." The Elder sighs.

"I like stories." Trevor speaks up.

"The story says that a savior sleeps under Gresit, a great hero who sleeps until he is needed, until there is a darkness upon the land." The Elder continues.

"Oh, I heard that one. The Sleeping Soldier. It's a local legend. Sounds weirdly convenient to me, if you know what I mean." Trevor retorts.

"Exactly how much do you know about this, sir?" The Elder asks.

"I'm a Belmont...so I know you're a nomadic people who gather knowledge, memorize it, carry complete spoken histories with you. I also know you gather hidden knowledge and have practitioners of magic knowledge in your tribes." Trevor says showing off the crest on his shirt while glancing around.

"A Belmont? I thought your family had vanished." Arn says with a shocked look on his face.

"If vanished is the polite way of saying exiled, hated,and burned out of the ancestral home, then..." Trevor trails off.

"Then you know something of magic, and so you know that just because we found a story in our past, it doesn't mean it originated there. The wisest and cleverest of our magicians know that dying is not absolute, that it is possible to hear stories from the future." The Elder explains.

"So, you think there's someone that can save the city asleep under it, and you're here to wait for him?" Trevor asks.

"One of us went to look for him." The Elder says.

"This would be your "missing" Speaker?" Trevor asks.

"Yes. That one went into the catacombs under the mausoleum west of the church.Has not returned." The Elder replies.

"Isn't there a head man in Gresit you could go to?" Trevor asks.

"He died in the first horde attack.Our searches have been unsuccessful. So, what are your plans?" The Elder asks.

"Find some more food, find some drink, get drunk, eat some food, move on." Trevor shrugs.

"That's it?" Arn asks.

"Maybe find a tall tree, sit in it, watch the show before I move on, all the good little people dying horribly, all that." Trevor retorts.

"You feel no compassion?" The Elder asks.

"This is what the church wanted. My family were the only people who could've fought Dracula and his army, but they didn't want us. They wanted to fight the darkness on their own terms, good luck to them." Trevor mutters coldly.

"But the ordinary people of Wallachia, they didn't get the choice." The Elder points out.

"For evil bastards to win power, all ordinary people have to do is stand aside and keep quiet. There's always a choice." Trevor says looking away from the old man.

"Well, find a good tall tree.You can watch us die, too." The Elder shrugs.

"Don't be crazy. Leave now. Head south, hook up with another train." Trevor says

"It's his grandchild." Arn says out of nowhere.

"Arn!" The Elder says shocked.

"I don't care! It's the elder's grandchild down there. We can't even bury them. It's not our way to just leave our dead unattended to!" Arn says.

"We stay for the people of Gresit." The Elder says firmly.

Arn agrees. "Yes, we do. But we also stay because we hope..." He trails off.

"So, you're staying to die with the good people of Gresit, not just because it's a good thing to do, but because you don't have your grandchild's body?" Trevor asks with his arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

"If you want to put it that way." The Elder says.

Trevor begins to walk off. "If I go and recover your kid's body, will you please leave?"

"Wait outside the city. Give your aid to the survivors when the night horde finally just rips through this place." Trevor says while looking at the fireplace.

"Why would you do that?" Arn asks.

"They're going to come for you soon. The good people. It's gonna be a pogrom. They were talking about it in the marketplace this morning." Trevor says with his arms raised.

"I don't think you answered my question." Arn says.

"I know what it's like to be persecuted by your own country for the accident of your birth." Trevor says as he walks right up towards Arn face to face.

He turns toward the Elder. "If I find your grandchild, will you leave this city before nightfall?" Trebor asks.

"If that is the condition of your recovering, then yes." The Elder says with his head low.

Trevor cracks his knuckles and takes an apple from a speaker "I'm leaving now." He takes a bite out of the apple. "Don't go walkabouts looking for people to give support to. Stay right here." He says firmly.

"Belmont. It is not dying that frightens us. It's living without ever having done our best." The Elder says from his seat.

Trevor opens the door. "I don't care." He says without looking back and walks out.

Chapter Text

The wind whistles as Trevor approaches a mausoleum. The mausoleum's door creaks as Trevor opens it. As Trevor walks inside he spots a casket and walks towards it. He runs his fingers against it as he continues to look around the mausoleum. While looking at the carvings in the wall his eyes narrow slightly as he spots a small hidden opening behind a statue. "Hmm." He hums smirking slightly.

He climbs the wall and falls through the small opening landing on his feet gracefully. He takes in his new found surroundings and continues to walk around. He walks over to a torch up against the wall and picks it up sniffing it slightly.

"Fresh oil." He murmurs.

He takes a small blade from his pocket and places the torch against the wall to spark a flame with the blade and wall. "Anybody home?" He asked with the lit torch raised as he looks around the hall.

He spots a metal pipe against the wall and taps against it. The pipe produces a hollow clang. "Warm." Trevor murmurs."That's weird."

Suddenly there's a rustling nearby and Trevor unsheaves his blade and walks towards the sound. "I can hear you." Trevor says as he approaches the staircase.

"I'm armed, and a lot less happy than you are...so you want to stay well out of my way." He says as he walks down the staircase.

As his foot hits the bottom floor the floor collapses beneath him. "Whoa! Oh!" Trevor says as he's caught off guard.

"Ha! Reflexes like a cat." He says as he manages to land on two feet.

The floor rumbles as it collapses beneath him. He screams on the way down this time he does not have reflexes like a cat seeing how he lands on his back letting out pained grunts. He stands up and dusts himself off. Now that he's standing electricity hums as the lights turn on. Because of the lights Trevor can see that there are multiple statues in here including one of a speaker. He walks over to that statue and taps his long blade against it making a metallic clink. "Either someone left a statue of a Speaker down here, or..." His thought is interrupted by heavy footfalls.

A Tall beast with one eye walks into the room. The vibration of the beast's footsteps shatters the nearest lights and cracks the pillars. The beast continues to head straight towards Trevor. "Cyclops!" Trevor says in wonder and horror as the cyclops opens its eye.

The Cyclops shoots a laser at Trevor and he dodges the laser trailing behind him as he hides behind a stone pillar. "Stone-eye cyclops. Right out of the family bestiary. God shits in my dinner once again." Trevor curses with sweat dripping from his face.

He glances towards the left of him and sees a laser coming his way which he dodges. He continues to run away as the Cyclops laser trails after him. He hides behind a pillar and tries to look for the Cyclops. Suddenly a stone hand blocks his view and the Cyclops picks Trevor up by the head and launches him sending him flying into a light. "Oopf!" Trevor screams as hes on the floor grunting.

He continues to run away from the laser quickly hiding behind pillars as he does so. Trevor launches a blade into the Cyclops chest. "Come on. Come on! You're dead! Stop and notice you're dead." Trevor shouts as he runs behind another pillar while the Cyclops is unphased.

"Ugh! Bastard." He grunts as the Cyclops's laser singes a part of his cloak turning it into stone.

He wipes away the blood on the side of his face and runs towards the Cyclops dodging its lasers. He pulls out his whip and wraps it around the blade still in the Cyclops chest.He grunts as he uses the sword to slash against the Cyclops with the whip. While the sword is in the air, Trevor climbs the speaker statue and kicks the sword into the Cyclops eye killing it instantly. He sees that the speaker statue is about to fall so he runs towards it catching it before it could shatter. The statue turns back unstoned in Trevor's arms. The speaker softly gasps as her eyes open, She has blue eyes, tanned skin, and short orange hair. She groans and Trevor says ew as she jumps out of his arms to vomit on the floor.

"Granddaughter, then. Ah. I wish Speakers wouldn't do that." Trevor says as he pulls the sword out of the Cyclops eye.

"What?" She asks with a slight accent.

"Dress the girls like boys." Trevor clarifies as he sheaves his blade.

"It's safer when we travel. What happened?" She asks as she starts to stand.

"You walked into a cyclops. Turns you to stone with its eyeball and feeds on your terror while you're trapped in your own body." He says pointing at the dead Cyclops.

"Did... did you climb on me?" She asks in disbelief.

"Mm, a bit." Trevor shrugs.

"That was rude." SHe says crossing her arms.

"Excuse me?" Trevor asks sarcastically.

"Who are you, anyway?" She asks facing Trevor.

"I met your grandfather. He wouldn't leave the city until he had your body. I came down to recover your remains so the Speakers would go to safety." He says bluntly.

"But the Sleeping Warrior is still down here." She points out.

"There is no Sleeping Warrior, just a cyclops waiting for people stupid enough to go looking. It's a trap for gullible Speakers. You're not popular around here." He retorts.

She begins to speak as Trevor walks away. "The old wisdom says the tomb is guarded.-" But she is cut off by Trevor waving her off before she could finish.

"Yeah, yeah. Come on. Time to go home. Your people think you're dead. The least you can do is set that old man's mind to rest." He says looking back at her.

"He thinks I'm dead?" She asks.

"He wasn't much wrong. Killing a cyclops is the only way to restore a victim. Didn't think I'd manage it." He says with a hand on his hip looking away from her.

"Who are you?" She asks, eyes furrowed.

"Trevor Belmont." He says glancing at her.

"But the Belmonts fight monsters." She says unconvinced.

"I'm out of practice. Let's show you to your grandfather, and then you can come down here and get killed again. Deal?" He says with his hand gestured towards her and his eyes narrowed.

"Very well. I'm Sypha Belnades." She says with a raised hand as Trevor begins to walk.

"I don't care." He says and she bristles slightly her hand turning into a fist.

There's a crackling sound as the rest of the statues turn back to humans with missing heads or half their torso gone. She gasps and walks faster. They arrive back at the home of the speakers. Trevor opens and walks through the door first and walks out of the way of Sypha. The Elder and Sypha embrace as Trevor simply watches. The Elder sighs and looks up towards Trevor. "Thank you." He says

Trevor nods his head slightly. "Mm. You're welcome."

"I failed to find the Sleeper. I'm sorry!" Sypha says sadly.

"Oh, hush.Hush now, my angel." The Elder says with his hands on her shoulders.

"I very much doubt there's anyone down there. It's probably a booby-trapped legend. There's someone wriggling with pleasure in his coffin right now thinking of people like your girl walking into the cyclops he left down there." Trevor says darkly.

"Or perhaps there is something down there so important that it must be guarded by monsters." Sypha retorts as she walks over to Trevor.

"Your Messiah isn't down there." He says firmly as she walks over towards him.

"And what makes you so sure?" She asks.

"You Speakers carry information down through the generations.We Belmonts pass things down as well. Do you remember what we saw down there? Metal veins pumping hot liquid? Torches that light by themselves that exactly fit descriptions written by my great-grandfather. Descriptions of the inside of Dracula's castle. I don't know what's down there, but it's not a messiah. I'll leave you all to it." He says while walking away.

"No, no... nonsense. Please, stay with us for as long as you like. I cannot begin to repay what I owe you." The Elder says with an offering hand.

"You're leaving tonight, remember?" Trevor says without glancing back.

"Well, uh, yes. Until then." The Elder stammers as he looks down slightly.

"Right. I'll come back later. See if you can find some beer." Trevor says as he walks through the door.

Sypha walks over to the Elder with an unimpressed frown on her face. "I could pee in a bucket and tell him it's beer." Sypha offers.

"Sypha, he saved your life!" The Elder says chidding her.

"He's rude." She says with furrowed brows.

As Trevor is walking a couple of men approach him from behind and a blade snicks as it's pulled right to Trevor's face and he stops in his tracks with a slight pout on his face.

"Uh, careful. My knife hand's not too steady. I could slip and take your eye out." The same ginger priest that got his finger whipped off says as Trevor groans.

"The Bishop of Gresit requests your kind attendance at the church." He continues

"I don't think I'm allowed into churches." Trevor says while he's surrounded by priests.

"The bishop says he'll make an exception in your case." The ginger priest says as he circles around Trevor.

Trevor chuckles. "No. Seriously. I realize you're trying to menacingly abduct me, but I'm excommunicated." He says.

"The bishop said to tell you that the terms of even major excommunication mean that you are obliged to appear when summoned by the Church." The Priest says with narrowed eyes.

Trevor glances around at the priests with weapons who surround him. "Well, shit. Look, if I enter the church and catch fire or something, it's your fault." He says as he follows the priests.

Crows caw as they near the church. Trevor grunts and groans as he's shoved by a random priest to continue walking. The church doors open and the men walk inside until Trevor faces the altar. The Bishop walks out from the shadows and walks in front of the altar with his hands behind his back. "I am the Bishop of Gresit." The Bishop says as he stares down at Trevor.

"You're not from around here." Trevor says with furrowed eyebrows.

"No. I'm originally from Targoviste. I was an aide to the archbishop. How did you divine that?" The Bishop asks with a narrow stare on his face.

"Well, you're not running away screaming like the rest of the locals, for one thing." Trevor retorts.

The Bishop scoffs. "From you?" He asks.

"From the baby-eating freaks of nature who apparently raid Gresit every night." Trevor says.

"I'm here to save Gresit." The Bishop says.

Trevor chuckles."And how do you intend to do that?" He asks.

"I brought you here to answer some questions, not ask them." The Bishop says.

"Well, tough shit! How exactly do you intend to help these people by killing Speakers?" Trevor asks with a smirk.

"The Speakers brought these troubles upon themselves. One cannot live without God...quite literally, in these days." The Bishop says calmly as he walks around the platform. 

"You think the night hordes came because people weren't religious enough? And you were at Targoviste?" Trevor asks in disbelief.

"The Archbishop had certain... interests that I believe compromised his ability to protect the city and the country. I was sent away long before Dracula came to Targoviste. We disagreed on matters of clerical discipline." The Bishop says as he walks back towards the podium.

"But you were there for the burning of Dracula's wife. I heard all about that." Trevor says.

"Oh, yes. I arranged it, in fact. The woman was a witch. And there can be no doubt now that she consorted with the devil. She even married him." The Bishop says calmly with narrowed eyes looking down at the altar.

"I see. And I'm here to be disciplined?" Trevor asks.

Not as such. I have a gift for you. Your life, Belmont. Take it and go. Tonight, the Speakers will be dealt with, and then Gresit will be secure. I refuse, however, to toil so hard for the soul of this city with an excommunicant heretic within its walls. You could undo everything by your very presence." The Bishop says.

"My God. You really believe it, don't you?" Trevor says shocked.

"You will leave Gresit by sundown, or you will not see the morning. Do I make myself clear? Despite the crimes you've committed against my aides, despite the crimes your family has committed against God, you will walk safely until sundown." The Bishop says while Trevor narrows his eyes.

"My family committed no crime. You people simply decided we were wrong to defend this land against the supernatural. And now.-" Trevor accuses but he's cut off by the Bishop.

"You Belmonts have never understood the power of the Word of God! The people of this city are mine and our Lord's now, and they'll do as I ask in His name. By morning, no Speaker will defile these streets, and you will either be gone or be dead. Do you understand?" The Bishop shouts with venom in his voice.

Trevor narrows his eyes. "Yes." He says

"Do this thing for me, and the matter of your excision from the church will be something we can discuss." The Bishop says as he walks away.

"No offense, but you are just a bishop. Excommunication came from a little higher up the ladder." Trevor brushes off as he walks away.

"Targoviste is gone. The other great cities are lost or losing. Gresit will be the last major city in Wallachia. To all intents and purposes, I will be the church." The Bishop smirks while facing the window.

Trevor walks back to the speaker's home and opens the door. "Trevor! Join us." The Elder says.

"Sure. By the way, you're all going to die." Trevor says as he walks inside.

The Speakers have horror on their faces. "What?" The Elder asks.

"The current bishop of this place is...Well, he's beyond insane. Over the top and into new lands of just snake-fuckingly crazy, and convinced that the salvation of Gresit lays in you people being torn to pieces by a mob." Trevor says as he leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

The Elder looks down and softly grunts. "When?" He asks.

"Before the sun goes down. By his logic, you have to die before the night creatures conduct their next raid." Trevor says.

"What happens if we stay and survive?" The Elder asks.

"Well, then the night creatures will come anyway, and the church will blame you, and it'll start all over again." Trevor saysl.

"This feels wrong. To be driven out for a lie that will doom these people, it is not a Speaker thing." The Elder says with his head down.

"We had an agreement." Trevor points out with his eyebrows down.

"I don't think it's a Belmont thing, either." The Elder says and Trevor glares at him..

"I don't care. You need to leave, and leave now." Trevor retorts getting off the wall.

"I don't think we can leave these people, not in their time of need!" Sypha says standing up.

"These people believe you're causing their time of need!" Trevor says in a raised town as he walks right in front of her face.

"Only because they are being misled by the Church. Does one run away when someone tells lies about them? What have the Church said about the Belmonts? That you have been corrupted by dealings with the supernatural, that you mock God, that you are threat to the common good, and that evil follows wherever you go. And what did you do in the face of that?" The Elder asks.

"I didn't run away." Trevor says with his eyebrows narrowed.

"Really. So, what are you running to? Did you have a destination in mind?" The Elder asks patronisingly.

"Are you calling me a coward?" Trevor asks as he walks towards the Speaker.

"No. I am calling you defeated, Trevor Belmont. You fought your battle and you decided you lost." The Elder says.

"We didn't have a choice." Trevor says while he walks around.

"Perhaps. But we do. We carry with us the accumulated wisdom of this great country. We will use that to fight our battle." Sypha says.

"You'll lose." Trevor says.

"We might well lose. But, if nothing else, we might show someone that, although battles are won and lost, there is a larger war at stake." The Elder says.

"With Dracula's armies?" Trevor asks.

"No. A war for the soul of our people.Because if we truly are the sort of people who will kill one another at the behest of a madman's fantasies, Then perhaps it is right and proper that things from Hell should rise up to wipe us out." The Elder says as the rest of the Speakers stand up.

"It's time for those of us who fight that war to stand up and be responsible, Trevor Belmont. You should leave now." Sypha says.

Trevor glares with clenched teeth and sighs and his face relaxes. "No. You're leaving right now." Trevor says as he puts his hand on his sword.

The sun begins to set and the beasts rise and chitter and squall while on the other side men grab weapons and light torches.The beasts fly towards Gresit and the men. An angry mob of villagers go to the speakers home as ash and snow falls from the sky. They walk towards the door and two villagers axe and hammer it down grunting in the process as the door gets kicked down. Trevor stands in the home with no speakers in sight. The priests walk inside. "Where are the Speakers?" One asks.

"I've put them somewhere safe." Trevor says.

 (With the speakers Arn stands over the dead Cyclops and turns back to the Elder. "I swear it just moved." Arn says.)

"You defend evil. Give them to us!" A Priest says as villagers shout angrily.

"Shut up." Trevor says.

The Head Priest scoffs and walks over to Trevor. "What?" He asks.

"Shut up. You're not getting the Speakers. You're getting no blood today, so shut up." Trevor says

Unh! Trevor winces as the Head Priest slaps him. "You will give us the Speakers so that we can save this city." The priest says.

"This city's lost. It was lost when you and the rest of your scum moved in." Trevor says.

The Head Priest slaps Trevor again for the second time. "And what? You are here to fight us? You're here to convince the people that nomad black magicians are good for Gresit, and it is the presence of men of God that brought the night hordes upon us?" The Priest says as he walks around.

"You know-" Trevor begins before the Head Priest cuts him off. "Silence! Look at you.You're a wreck. You stink. You can barely keep your eyes open. What do you expect to achieve against us?" The Priest asks.

"Absolutely nothing." Trevor says while smiling.

"So you're going to die for nothing? For people you don't know?" The Priest asks.

"I don't know any of you, but that doesn't matter, does it? My family, the family you demonized and excommunicated, has fought and died through generations for this country. We do this thing for Wallachia and her people. We don't have to know you all. We do it anyway. And it's not the dying that frightens us. It's never having stood up and fought for you. I am Trevor Belmont of the House of Belmont, and dying has never frightened me." Trevor says as he walks around taking off his cloak revealing his family's crest.

"Good." The Priest says grabbing a blade as the other surrounding priests revealed their own blades.

They start to surround Trevor and move in closer. Trevor kneels down and launches a lot of little spikes at the same time injuring a lot of the priest's hands. The priests groan in pain while the Head Priest grunts in pain by Trevor elbowing him out of the house. Trevor pulls a rope on the side of the house at the same time he's running out making the front entrance collapse. He pushes the Head Priest to the ground making the priest let out a sharp gasp. Some villagers approach Trevor as angry voices rise, Trevor grabs his whip and grabs axe out of a villagers hand and he chucks that axe into the air cutting a rope in the process making a big cross fall making the mob  scream and disperse in fear of the cross crushing them. While the mob is distracting Trevor runs through the crowd taking things in the process such as a torch. Realizing that Trevor is getting away the mob goes after Trevor. The mob splits off as Trevor runs into the alley. He runs back towards the group of men and pushes off the wall to step on one of the men's faces. The other men catch the falling bleeding man and Trevor drops the torch into a liquid to block off that entrance as he continues to run away. Trevor pants as he runs while arrows woosh past him. He hides behind a building as more men walk with arrows. He gasps softly as he sees a priest, with a bandage covering his eye, drops down from above with a blade in his hand and approaches him. Trevor blocks the priest's attacks with his sword while arrows fly. He grabs the priest's arm and uses him as a human shield. The priest gets shot in his uninjured eye and shoulder. Trevor rushes forward to break a man's spear with his sword and stabs the man. He then cuts off the other spear wielder arm. Trevor chucks the spear at the archers on the roof and both archers scream as the spear spears the archer's head and the other in the throat and their bodies thud against the roof. Trevor pants and sighs and sheaves his blade and continues to run.

"There he is!" Someone from the mob shouts and Trevor runs the opposite way.