Even as his first attacker was sent flying, the resident could hear the bones creaking in the other man's body as he leapt at Lucas. Snarling, he turned just in time to face the man's black blade, so dark that light itself seemed not to escape - and it was aimed to take off his head.
What happened next, in the nature of things that happen faster than humans can see, seemed to happen at an almost glacial pace. His face contorting, the resident brought up his arm, pulling his head back to get out of the range of the blade. It was just enough to get out of range, but the black sword unlike anything he had seen before cleaved through his arm and nicked the edge of his neck.
At that moment, something was clearly wrong.
He was not healing from the attack of that blade.
Lucas's face twisted in panic, a foot lashing out at Crest in a blazingly fast kick as he struggled to comprehend what was happening. In all his long, long life, something had never stopped him from regenerating. He had always been immortal, from when he first knew life to now. He had to force both of them out as quickly as he could.
He nodded absently to Butler's reply, preparing to set outside amongst those of a more common stock, monsters that roamed the night and the corrupted that ruled the day. Vlad was no fool. His influence right now was slim - only through expansion of the Order could Drăculea hope to gain control of the city, and from there, rearrange it as he desired. A city without crime, without opposition was what he had desired in his life, and he still desired it here.
As he made for the stairs, Vlad noted the job his butler had done in faint approval. Everything down to the stone itself had been scrubbed clean, though there was still a faint red sheen to some parts of the floor. It was his haste to leave that had forced Butler to abandon his job, and so the Lord overlooked it.
"If I may make a suggestion, Lord Vlad," Butler began while helping put on Vlad's dark, winter coat. "Though your mind is of great skill in the mystic, and I possess considerable occult knowledge myself, I believe the Order could benefit from the presence of a specialist."
The Lord of the castle nodded thoughtfully.
"True. The absence of a magician cannot be overlooked in something of this scale. I do not believe, however, that any proper candidates have been found. They are weak, or children, or..."
He felt it, then, a great magical signature crossing the boundary line of castle. Frowning, his white brow furrowed in annoyance, Vlad looked up at the stained glass window, the grand picture of Jesus upon the cross reflected back upon him in the late afternoon.
"Of course, only a fittingly great mind should receive this honor; for every great work of architecture is started on strong pillars."
At that, three strong, firm knocks echoed throughout the castle, the person who stood on the side of the door making their presence known. Vlad's eyes shone with a sudden light.
"Indeed. It seems that, perhaps, one such mind has come upon us... I shall return to the throne room - appearances must be kept. If they seek an audience, tell them I am willing to receive them in fifteen minutes time."
The coat was back on the rack as Vlad moved back to the central room of the castle, where he would receive whomever had come to seek him out.
