Chương 84: The Princess's Spectral Chamber
As Grayson heaved open the castle's grand doors, an ancient red carpet stretched beneath his feet, leading into a semicircular salon adorned with elegant furnishings reminiscent of what one might find in the opulent halls of human royalty.
Elyra, however, had already dashed into the room and plopped down on a sofa before crying out in surprise as she hit the hard surface. "Ouch!" she exclaimed, nursing her bumped head and rear. It seemed she had mistaken the stone-crafted furniture for something far more comfortable.
"Little fool, don't sit without looking properly!" Grayson strode into the salon, striking the 'sofa' with his silver sword, eliciting a clink and a shower of sparks.
"It's actually made of stone!" Elyra pouted, rubbing her little foot after retaliating against the hardy sofa.
Grayson shook his head in disbelief and proceeded toward the grand staircase at the hall's end, its lush red carpet covered in dust, untouched by footsteps.
"This place seems uninhabited," he mused, noting the cobweb-covered walls and chandelier remnants. "Be careful, this is a place of deception," he warned the girls. "Haven't you noticed? There's not a single light source, be it chandeliers or wall sconces, not even a candlestick. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"
"You're right, it feels unnervingly cold," Katheren shivered, rubbing her arms.
"We should investigate further, but let's hope the master really isn't home," Grayson said, ascending the right staircase and disappearing into a corridor. Elyra, in little owl form, decided to hitch a ride on Katheren's head as they followed close behind.
The dark hallway was silent save for their footsteps, and the air was damp and fetid, reminding Grayson of dungeons reserved for the condemned. A drop of liquid splashed near his foot, hitting an uncovered stone. He illuminated the moist ceiling with his sword, revealing a wall slick with moisture.
"This place will sprout stalactites before long," he remarked disdainfully.
After a short walk, they were stopped by a wall, within which a detailed wooden door was set. Grayson pushed the unlocked door open, revealing a small hall adorned with sinister demon statues.
At the center stood a sarcophagus with the figure of a resting person carved upon it, a silent sentinel watching over the room.
"It seems we've come across an old acquaintance," Grayson commented, his hand grazing the sarcophagus. "This is a vampire's crypt, and judging by the carving, its occupant was of no high standing."
After confirming the absence of lurking dangers, he instructed Katheren, "Get your gun ready. If anything pops out when I open this, feed it your silver bullets for breakfast."
Katheren steadied her silver pistol as Grayson slid the cover aside, revealing a swarm of red eyes within the dark tomb. With a whoosh, bats burst forth in a frenzy, their screeching unbearable. Katheren, panicked, fired into the air to no avail.
Grayson unleashed his blades, setting up a whirling barrier that dismembered the onslaught of bats, though they kept coming. They rushed toward another door, Grayson bursting through it, pulling Katheren in and slamming it shut. The thuds of bats against the other side quieted after a tumultuous struggle.
"Are you hurt?" Grayson asked Katheren, retracting the blades.
"I'm fine," she replied, unsettled, "What were all those bats doing in there?"
"Think of them as pets," Grayson shrugged, "much like little dogs noble ladies carry."
Incredulous, Katheren frowned, prompting Grayson to pat her shoulder. "There's much in this world that will surprise you, little adventurer. Just you wait."
They continued down another dark corridor, the echoing footsteps giving the impression of wandering through a colossal tomb.
Suddenly, Grayson stopped, listening intently. Katheren, uneasy, asked, "What is it?"
"There's something following us," he whispered, sensing unseen eyes in the dark.
Katheren tightened her grip on the sword, peering into the void, but saw nothing.
"Stay close, don't give it a chance," Grayson advised, leading the way.
The sound of fluttering wings haunted their steps, yet when Grayson looked back, all was still.
They progressed, protected by the glow of their weapons, the persistent sound trailing them. Grayson felt the hungry gaze of their pursuer, like a starving predator eyeing plump prey. He quickened the pace, Katheren sensing his urgency amidst a barely audible eerie murmur.
Then, they faced two grand doors carved with seductive gold-plated women, the metallic sheen noble yet chilling.
Grayson let go of Katheren, pushed the doors open, and ushered her inside, closing them. After a moment's silence, he sighed, "It seems to have gone."
"What was that thing?" she breathed.
"If it truly was a vampire, then its power was greater than any noble I've encountered," Grayson said, scanning the room—a lavishly furnished bedroom with a dressing table but no mirror, as expected in a vampire's lair.
"This room's owner must be a lady," he noted, gesturing to the items on the table.
Katheren approached the sarcophagus, its surface inscribed with text. Grayson read aloud, revealing it as the resting place of Elsbeth, the daughter of the Vampire King Orlando. They shared a look of disbelief as the ominous history unfolded.
Their shock was cut short by chaotic footsteps and cries from the hallway.
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