SURREAL MYSTERY

In the prosperous Kingdom of Realmgate, a strange and unsettling air loomed over the newly erected North Library, a grand establishment embellished with arched windows and intricate woodwork.

The sun shone brightly that morning, but the hesitant gleam of light did little to dispel the ominous feeling that cloaked Sparrow Night and his younger sister, Canary.

Sparrow, tall and muscular, observed the library with a calm, albeit troubled gaze. He often found solace in the depths of knowledge, but something here felt wrong—almost as if the very walls were whispering dark secrets.

Canary, small and athletic, nudged him gently, her green eyes sparkling with curiosity but shadowed by rising apprehension.

"Birdbro, it feels like there's something watching us," she murmured, her sweet smile faltering just a bit. 

Sparrow nodded, feeling the nagging sensation that evaded even his reliable skill, [Appraisal]. It frustrated him. They exchanged glances, agreeing without a word to leave for now.

After their uneasy visit, they roamed the bustling streets of the city, darting between stalls and weaving through crowds. Their next stop was a large weapons store, the scent of iron and leather heavy in the air... the 'Smithery's Trusty Blades'. 

Sparrow's eyes gleamed when he spotted a robust machete that seemed to hum with a vitality of its own. He gripped the hilt, feeling the practicality of the weapon. 

"I think this might come in handy," he said, a rare smile breaking his usually calm demeanor.

He knew that he was supposed to be a , which literally should be interpreted as an unarmed combatant with mysterious power. He had his own ideas though.

For Sparrow, unarmed physique was indeed the main capital and the greatest investment of a pugilist. In training, body tempering and unarmed techniques should be the most dominant focuses. But in real fight, anything that could be used to gain advantage in combat should be a fair game.

Canary, in turn, filled her 'shopping bags' with overkilling sets of throwing knives, throwing-knife bandolier, throwing-knife belt, and throwing-knife leg sheaths. "I'd prefer guns or crossbows, but well... These should be good enough for me, for now!"

With their spirits lifted by new armaments, they made their way to their next destination, 'Chaotic Dream Garments', an eccentric clothing store where the allure of costumes beckoned. 

Sparrow's gaze fell on a cursed pirate outfit that looked more like a frayed nightmare than a costume. "What do you think?" he queried, holding up the ragged garment and skull mask.

Canary burst into laughter. "It suits you, Birdbro! It truly exposes your inner beauty. Now you can be your true self," she teased.

Sparrow just grunted as a response. "Yours?"

She grinned and showed a crazy clown costume, complete with long colorful cloak and a mask that seemed almost alive—its eyes and mouth designed with a sinister mirth. "This one is perfect! It's loose enough to hide my weapons. And it's crazy enough to make everyone laugh… or cry."

Without any problem, the siblings purchased their costumes... for the party that night. Recalling the plan of the upcoming Malkavean costume party in anticipation, they couldn't help but feel their hearts racing with unstoppable thrill. 

The night finally arrived, and as they donned their new disguises, Sparrow and his sister felt a spark of adventure welling within them.

The massive mansion loomed ahead, its grandeur deceptive. The strangers and familiars mingled on the lawns filled with laughter and masked revelers. 

Sparrow and Canary paid the necessary silver coins and entered, eyes wide at the dramatic sights and sounds. 

Then they saw him, Leon Hunt, the world's monster hunter protagonist, clad in his usual rugged leather attire with a cheap demon mask perched awkwardly on his face.

"Should we follow him, Birdbro?" Canary asked, a glimmer of excitement igniting in her green eyes. "He might lead us to something worthwhile."

Sparrow agreed. "Yeah. But keep the distance."

After some careful maneuvers, they shadowed Leon deeper into the festivities until they found a hidden door that led to the mansion's dungeons. They saw him opened it and went in without any hesitancy.

After waiting for a few minutes, the siblings followed him, entering the door and descending the dark staircase that followed afterward. And... they stumbled into a different, gloomy, surreal dimension. It was a different spatial world within this spatial realmgate world, spooky yet eerily inviting. 

A banquet unfolded before their eyes, but it wasn't a joyous feast. Instead, it was a horror display. The noble families of Malkaveans, Caines, and Anophles, identifiable due to the coat of arms on their bloody noble attires... gathered here, indulging in the gruesome fate of kidnapped party-goers; blood scattered, souls drained, body mangled and lifeless.

The fallen nobles revealed their true forms — ugly vampires feasting upon the terrified remnant of humanity, wicked laughter mingling with last cry of despair. Sparrow clenched his fists while Canary gasped, clinging to him for support.

In front of them, without warning, the masked Leon Hunt threw his mask and lunged at the nearest vampire. An explosion of calculated ferocity erupted as his pair of silver-steel swords decapitated the vampire.

In response, eleven of the twelve remaining vampires roared and darted across the horrifying hall to attack the monster hunter. Their eyes glowing green with an unnatural hunger. Each movement was fluid — a dance of death.

The last vampire moved to the back of the hall instead and opened a huge cage, releasing a pack of twenty 'Vicious Red' hellhounds, their fiery eyes burning with wicked enthusiasm, fangs bared and snarling, each step vibrating with pent-up energy.

The siblings looked at each other wordlessly and swiftly joined the fray. 

Sparrow, clad in his cursed pirate outfit, threw away his skull mask and tricorne hat as he charged, wielding his machete with determination.

Canary, meanwhile, also discarded her mask, hat, and fancy cloak. Now clad in a tight colorful clown outfit, with throwing-knife sheaths all over her body, she jumped on a table and expertly flung her first knife toward one of the hellhounds.

The ensuing chaos spilled into a brutal battle.

Leon had long sprung into action, the silver-steel swords slicing through the air with whistling sounds. With a series of acrobatic movements, he dashed among the vampires and hellhounds.

His body twisted through the air, leaving glimpses of silver streaks as he launched into another attack, bringing both swords down with bone-crunching force. 

The vampire, quick and agile, narrowly dodged, but not fast enough—Leon's blade raked across its shoulder, a shower of ash-like blood erupting from the wound.

Sparrow charged forward, his movements heavy but calculated. He swung his machete in a brutal arc, connecting squarely with a vampire's midsection, the force sending it crashing against the dining table.

Without hesitation, Sparrow followed through with a powerful kick, propelling the creature through the air. A swift downward strike finished it, merciless and definitive.

Canary danced around the chaos, her gymnastics training a blur of grace and agility. She evaded the snapping jaws of hellhounds with a series of nimble flips, narrowly avoiding their jaws. She launched her throwing knives with pinpoint accuracy, each blade sinking into the eyes of the beasts with deadly precision. 

A hellhound yelped, collapsing in a heap, while Canary's sprite summons, Holy and Echo, burst forth in shimmering light and vibrating sound.

Holy's presence illuminated the dim hall, dispelling shadows as it flitted around, targeting vampires and weakening their resolve. Echo, a sprightly sprite, darted between foes, disorienting them with waves of sonic pulses. 

The vampires staggered, confused, their wicked claws faltering just long enough for Leon to intervene, coming down with a blistering strike that decimated one of the creatures.

Sparrow's machinations were crude yet effective. He abandoned his machete that was stuck in his last vampire opponent's body and seized a Vicious Red hellhound by the neck, body slamming it against the wall before delivering a punishing blow that echoed off the stone. The creature yipped, bloodied and stunned.

Another vampire refocused on him, drawing closer, but Sparrow was quicker, his left fist leading with a power-filled hook that landed squarely on the creature's jaw. The sickening crack resonated through the hall, followed by the vampire's pained scream.

Leon vaulted over Sparrow, his swords clashing against the blade of an incoming vampire. The dance of steel continued, each clash echoing with the promise of vengeance.

Leaping backward, he kicked off the wall and twirled to land a spinning kick on another vampire, then rushed forward to pierce the heart of yet another foe.

As the battle raged on, Sparrow and Canary moved in seamless synchrony. Sparrow's relentless focus kept him one step ahead, parrying strikes from his enemies while launching ferocious counterattacks. 

Every throw, punch, and kick from his limbs was paired with precise strikes from Canary, who leapt effortlessly above him, throwing daggers that found their marks with unerring accuracy.

"Holy, now!" Canary shouted amid the chaos. The ethereal sprite unleashed a blinding burst of light, temporarily shimmering over the combatants and stunning the vampires, hellhounds and also... Leon Hunt. 

Sparrow, who had immediately closed his eyes when Canary called Holy, took that moment to unleash his full assault, grabbing hold of a vampire head and slamming it to his raised knee. 

He then jumped to grab a pair of decorative axes on the wall and chopped downward to the still reeling vampire. His movements, while simple, reverberated with an innate power that spoke of gritty realism and strength, flexing his passive abilities in a display of sheer might.

The dining hall was now a twisted tapestry of chaos, imbued with the clashing wills of the living fighting against the undead.

Each moment stretched, but the unplanned partnership between the monster killing trio was palpable. Sparrow's brutal strikes, Canary's acrobatic knife throwing, and Leon's flamboyant but formidable swordplay synchronized in a deadly ballet.

Canary, now perched atop another table, threw another one of her knives into the open mouth of a hellhound. With its roar silenced, she called upon Echo, commanding it to unleash its targeted sound waves, which rippled through some of the remaining enemies. With their senses dulled, the vampires ceased their offensive, providing the opening Sparrow and Leon needed.

Leon switched his grip on his swords and launched into a flurry of attacks, slashing through two vampires in quick succession. Sparrow charged in behind him, shoulders broad and axes ready. With a sweeping motion, he caught another vampire off guard, the axes cleaving through the air in a smooth arc.

The tides of battle began to turn, as one by one, the vampires fell like autumn leaves. The hellhounds, once fierce and relentless, also fell one by one in the hands of the three 'monster slayers'.

Finally, with the last vampire slain, the room lay still, littered with the bodies of both predators and preys. Leon, breathless but victorious, surveyed the carnage, wiping the blade of his sword on the remnants of the tablecloth.

Sparrow and Canary shared a determined nod, their eyes flashing with the thrill of survival. However, their past experiences in the forest had taught them that danger often lurked where one least expected it.

Their enhanced senses, amplified by their passive skills, were still on high alert. Danger might come any time.

As if on cue, a figure emerged from the shadows at the far end of the hall.

Leon Hunt, his white hair matted with sweat, spat a curse as his gaze locked on the newcomer. "Vlad Caine," Leon growled, his voice dangerously low. "You blood-sucking filth! You're the one who killed Cyra!"

The newcomer, Vlad Caine, was everything Sparrow had come to expect of a nobleman – tall, arrogant, with a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He surveyed the carnage as if it were an art exhibit. 

"Ah, Leon," Vlad drawled, his hazel eyes glinting with malice. "Indeed, I did take care of your beloved Cyra. Such a shame, those dragon-blessed hearts are quite the delicacy, and hers was… exquisite. It was always meant for me."

He even chuckled, "And I must thank you for the messy work you did with my kins. Their deaths were the final requirement for my ascension – a cleansing. Now, I stand alone – the last of my line."

Vlad's voice, laced with dark triumph, was the final trigger.

His form rippled and cracked, his skin hardening into scales. Bones rearranged themselves with sickening pops. Long, wicked horns sprouted from his forehead, and leathery demonic wings unfurled from his back.

His eyes glowed a malevolent green, and rows of needle-sharp teeth extended in a terrifying snarl. He was no longer an arrogant noble but a monstrous draconic vampire.

Leon, his face contorted with rage, roared, "You'll pay for what you did to her!" He turned to Sparrow and Canary. "Stay out of this. This is my fight." 

Then, with a savage cry, Leon propelled himself forward, his swords a whirlwind of furious motion. He launched himself at Vlad, his every move honed by years of slaying monsters.

The draconic vampire met Leon's charge with surprising agility, his sharp claws tearing through the air. The battle was a chaotic blur of motion. 

Leon, with his acrobatic style, spun and leaped, his silver-steel swords powering his attacks. He was quick, relentless, and brutal, his strikes aiming to maim and destroy.

Vlad, now fueled by inhuman power, matched him blow for blow. He lashed out with claws and wings, his movements fluid and ferocious. The air crackled with the intensity of their battle.

Leon's movements were a dance of controlled fury. He slid under Vlad's sweeping claw, his swords flashing as he aimed for the vulnerable joints. He followed with a dizzying spin, his foot connecting with Vlad's jaw with a sickening crack. 

Vlad, unflinching, retaliated with a clawed swipe that tore through Leon's shoulder, sending a spray of blood into the air. Leon barely flinched; he used the momentum to twist, his elbow connecting with the dragon's scaled face.

Vlad, momentarily stunned, was forced to take a step back, but his recovery was immediate. He batted away Leon's sword blade with a resounding clang, sending Leon staggering backwards.

He followed up with a series of lightning-fast strikes, claws and teeth tearing at Leon's leather armor. 

Leon countered with a desperate parry, his metal swords colliding with Vlad's claws, sparks flying. He used his momentum to backflip away, narrowly avoiding a lethal bite.

Leon, despite his high combat mastery, was starting to suffer from the sheer power of the draconic vampire. He was winded, his face streaked with blood and sweat. He knew he was outmatched, yet he refused to yield.

He hurled himself again, his swords arcing downwards in a desperate attack. Vlad, anticipating the move, caught the swords in his claws and twisted it out of Leon's grip.

Leon's eyes widened in desperation as Vlad's claws closed around his throat, lifting him off the ground. Leon kicked, his legs flailing, but Vlad's grip was like iron. He slammed Leon to the ground, crushing the wind out of his lungs. 

Leon lay still for a moment, his body wracked with pain, before Vlad tossed him like a rag doll across the hall. Leon hit the wall with a sickening thud and slid to the floor, his breath coming in ragged gasps. 

He was still breathing, but he was clearly out of the fight. His body was battered, bruised, and his face was pale and covered with blood.

Vlad, a demonic figure silhouetted against the flickering torches, let out a triumphant roar, his long horns glinting in the dim light. He turned his burning gaze to Sparrow and Canary, a predatory smile spreading across his sharp-toothed maw.

Sparrow's single green eye flickered with an inner light that belied the storm brewing within. His hand tightened into a fist. He knew that it was their turn now.

They had given Leon Hunt a chance to take revenge, but he failed. Now, they, the Midight Siblings, had to finish the fight.

"Birdbro," Canary said, her voice resolute. "Combo Alpha." 

Sparrow looked to his little sister and nodded, silently activating his [Appraisal] targeted at the monstrous vampire. Combo Alpha was the code-name they'd discussed for a cooperative skill use where Sparrow used [Appraisal] and Canary linked to Sparrow's mind with [Mind Contact], essentially allowing both of them to get the data of the target simultaneously.

Information immediately flowed into Sparrow's mind, a torrent of data about the creature before him. He saw it all – the 'Sentient Green' category, the ageless characteristic, the undead nature, the enhanced senses, the flight capability, the steel-hard claws, and the cursed teeth.

But more importantly, he registered the weaknesses: sunlight, silver, holy water. Unfortunately, they lacked those three.

Simultaneously, his sister, Canary, made the connection through her [Mind Contact] to allow Sparrow's appraisal to flood her own mind. Her eyes widened, but the fear was quickly replaced by a determination that matched her brother's. 

"Birdbro, he's a tough nut, but we know what hurts him," she said, her voice a steady, clear counterpoint to the oppressive atmosphere. Her voice was low and calm, despite her pounding heart.

Ignoring the fallen form of Leon Hunt a few feet away, Vlad snarled, a low guttural noise that echoed through the hall. He surged forward, wings beating, a dark shadow hurtling towards them. 

Sparrow moved with practiced precision, his hands already gripping tightly the decorative axes he used as makeshift weapons. He intercepted Vlad, the clash of metal on claws echoing loudly, a sound that was quickly lost in the cacophony of the next events.

Canary didn't falter, her movements swift and sure. "Holy, burst!" she commanded, and the Light Cleaner Sprite floating nearby manifested a small, glowing orb that exploded with blinding light. The hall was flooded with a sudden, brilliant radiance, catching Vlad off guard. He roared, his movements momentarily disrupted.

Taking advantage of this fleeting advantage, Sparrow closed the distance, his voice erupting in a primal scream next to Vlad's ear, exploiting the vampire's heightened auditory senses. He followed with brutal, precise chops of his axes... 

But the metal axes met the vampire's skin with a dull thud. They could not even scratch him. The vampire's arm swiped, and Sparrow was thrown back with a bone-jarring impact, landing close to Leon.

Canary hurled a throwing knife, a small silver flash against the dim lighting, aiming for Vlad's face, distracting him enough to give her brother a moment. "Echo, now!" Another deafening soundwave hit the vampire, prolonging his disorientation. This time it came from Canary's second summon.

Sparrow, despite the pain throbbing through his muscles, scrambled to his feet. He spotted Leon's fallen sword, the silver-steel alloy gleaming in the dim light. He grabbed it in reverse grip, a desperate hope igniting within him, and charge-jumped at Vlad, who was spreading his wings, trying to fly. 

This time, the big pugilist wasn't aiming for the impenetrable skin. He targeted the base of Vlad's right wing, the silver metal piercing deep. The vampire roared in pain, his premature flight abruptly ended, his mobility compromised.

Canary, never still, launched another knife, this one finding its mark, piercing Vlad's left eye. A guttural shriek of rage erupted from the vampire. He turned, his attention now squarely focused on the slight figure of Canary, her small body trembling, but her eyes firm.

Before Vlad could reach her, Sparrow was there again, attempting a grapple, but the vampire's strength was overwhelming. Vlad flung him away like a ragdoll again, sending him crashing through the wall, the stone crumbling around him. He focused on Canary, his rage now at a fever pitch.

But before he could reach her, Canary was already unleashing her next gambit. "Holy, Echo, Fuse!" she shouted, her voice strained but clear. 

The two sprites merged, coalescing into a larger form, a swirling vortex of light and sound which crashed into the vampire with a blinding flash and a deafening roar. The sprites vanished, their power exhausted, leaving only an intense light and sound in their wake before diving into a prolonged cooldown.

Sparrow picked himself up, ignoring the pain that screamed through his body. His ears were ringing, his vision fuzzy, but his focus remained unwavering. 

He grabbed a soccer-ball sized rock from the rubble around him and charge-slammed it at Vlad's face, the rock connecting with a sickening thud. The vampire staggered, still disoriented, his face a mask of rage and pain. 

Sparrow then followed with a full-powered kick to the vampires groin, and a deadly pointed punch to his throat with all of his enhanced strength.

In a fluid, acrobatic motion, he executed a neck-breaking lariat, his arms wrapping around Vlad's horns. He twisted, applying all his strength, and backflipped... bringing the vampire rotating on air and down to the floor with a loud thud, but the monster's neck refused to break. 

Vlad let out an angry roar... that was stopped by a throwing knife accurately piercing his open mouth. That was Canary's last throwing knife.

Sparrow yanked the silver-steel sword from Vlad's wing and swung, a flurry of blows aimed at the vulnerable neck. He chopped and hacked, the silver biting into the vampire's flesh until the vampire finally collapsed, his neck bleeding tons of ashy blood, his green eyes dimming, his demonic form lifeless on the floor.

As Sparrow was about to relax, a blazing white fire suddenly burst out from the draconic vampire's torso, putting the one-eyed man into another vigilant combat stance, ready to attack despite his exhaustion.

But the fire quickly extinguished, leaving the charred body of the dead vampire. It seemed to be the backlash for the drastic evolution.

The hall fell silent, save for the siblings' ragged breaths. Sparrow looked at Canary, her small face pale but resolute. "Tweety, you okay?"

She gave him a wobbly smile, "Yeah, Birdbro. All okay now."