A guard of Mystwood sat atop its great stone walls, gazing into the thick mist that blanketed Crosis Swamp to the north. The mist carried the foul air of the swamp, and northern winds often blew that noxious haze south, choking life in Mystwood. However, life went on in Mystwood regardless, and each day was heralded by the usual crowing of Ccrondil ravens. Houses in Mystwood were grey and in shambles– simply piles of lumber from ash trees crudely slapped together into what one could call a 'house'. The guard of Mystwood scoffed as he watched the peasants and merchants in the streets, living day by day like they always had the past month; in poverty. With the death of their king and the division of the nation, Mystwood was hit the hardest by wartime taxes and their defences were more than lacklustre. It was the guard's daily routine to peer over the wall and spot something peculiar, however, he saw nothing most days, and when he did see something, it was usually a refugee of the north looking for food and shelter. He had orders to not let any civilians in, and he followed them to the letter, though, it did pain him to turn away families so bluntly. But he understood the commandment, as refugees could very well be simply disguised vampires, and the guard knew all too well that if there was one vampire in the city, it wouldn't take too long for there to be ten, then one hundred, and so on. He couldn't allow that.

On this day, however, the guard decided to look out into the swamp, as it seemed to bellow and brew more than the norm. The mist clouded his vision, but he could make out the row of trees that lined the edge of the slimy waters. These ash trees were often dead ones, as the swamp's overpowering miasma choked the life out of them; a living ash was hard to find. As his eyes fixated on the tree closest to the stone wall that stood upon, he noticed something odd crawl up the base of the tree– a thick, green vine winding its way up, consuming the dead tree. And as it shambled up the ash tree, runners shot off the main vine, and roses blossomed off of them rapidly; they were dark, indigo roses. This disturbed the guard deeply.

Then, out of nowhere, the guard heard an anguished cry from the swamp; a ckrel barely able to stand emerged from the mist. It was coughing and was riddled with terrible gashes from claws and teeth, and it had no rider to guide it; it only moved forward out of instinct and sheer will to survive. The wounded beast was undoubtedly a ckrel of a northern cavalry division– the one that had been wiped out three weeks prior by the vampiric onslaught. The ckrel groaned as it limped towards the stone walls of Mystwood, and the guard prepared his musket to fire at the beast, as he wanted to give it a painless death. However, just before he fired, an arrow whizzed from the hazy north and struck the creature through the neck, finally felling the once majestic beast. This alerted the guard, and he raised his musket to prepare for invaders.

An eerie silence fell upon Mystwood in that moment, but only for a moment, as a cacophony of gnashing teeth and growls began to stir the swamp; a horde of vampires was approaching, and fast. The guard lowered his musket and called upon his comrades to sound the alarm; cannons poked out of the walls, dozens of soldiers stood at the gate with their bayoneted muskets, and civilians fled into the southern districts of Mystwood, hoping to be spared by the horrid battle that was to come.

A storm of arrows darkened the sky above and rained down upon the unprepared town, killing dozens upon dozens of guards and peasants. The remaining guards then fired off their cannons into the mist, hoping to hit something, but it had no effect. Vampires did not begin to storm the walls like they had expected; instead, a lone stallion emerged from the mist, with the horns of a great demon lord and a giant crimson sword that burned with red hellfire. It was Amon, one of Alptraum's Indigo Rose, who stood behind him, motionless, letting him approach the gate by himself. His faded and long, pink mane flowed down his shoulders, and his demonic eyes burned as he stepped over the corpse of the ckrel, making his way to the gate. He started sprinting.

"He's all by himself! Stop his advance!" The guard ordered his comrades from atop the wall. They responded to his order with musket fire and the blaring of cannons and roaring troops.

"Hmm... they are the tenacious lot, aren't they?" Theodore sighed as he fiddled with his cane. "Don't they realize Amon is a Lord of Infernum?

Amon dodged the musket fire and cannonballs that blistered the ground around him, and he charged his giant claymore, holding it across his body for a horizontal slash. A feathery veil of dark purple hellfire then began to coat his blade, and he released it at the height of its intensity. "Demon Blade Technique: Raven's Wing!"

The attack left the end of his claymore and the crescent-shaped wave of purple flame hurdled towards the battalion of guards. The attack cleft most of them in two at the waist, and it even sliced the cannons and the muskets into two parts; nothing was safe, save for the wall. Amon charged up another attack, and this one would split the gate like a fruit.

"Demon Blade Technique: Serpent's Tail!" Amon shouted as he lifted up his titanic blade for a downwards slash, the edge of his sword becoming coated in a yellowish-green energy.

The attack once again left his blade, but this time took the form of a hundred-hoof-tall, towering pillar of plasmatic power, and this pillar barrelled towards the outer wall with tremendous might. As it impacted the stone wall, it completely shattered the gate, tossed aside or incinerated guards, and broke apart the stone structure, leaving a gaping hole in the wall. The attack grazed one guard's shoulder, sending a chill down his spine as he watched it roll across the cobblestone streets of Mystwood, toppling cathedrals and burning up shacks. Luckily, the attack fizzled before it could reach the southern districts of Mystwood, but the gaping hole still left the town helpless to an attack.

A horde of vampires mustered behind the members of Indigo Rose, including Amon, and he spoke up, commanding the horde with his low, threatening voice. "Take stallions without families and leave the mares and foals. If you disobey these orders, I shall remove the top of your head from your skull with a wave of my hand. Go now..."

"You're soft, Amon..." Sven growled as he followed the horde of vampires that entered Mystwood with his group, unimpressed by Amon's merciful attitude towards war. "We need all the help we can get! Let the mares and foals become vampires too!"

"Such a thought is appalling and brutish, ice dragon. War is won through proper tactics and honour, not through the outright murder of innocents and sheer recklessness." Amon shook his head in disappointment as he sheathed his blade, Droyuz.

"I thought Lords of Infernum were merciless and cruel, not filled with sappy garbage like you!" Sven scowled as a gigantic, red icicle formed in his hand. He then tossed it into the air, and as it flew it gathered more and more moisture in the air, forming an even larger iceberg– almost twenty meters across. Sven laughed maniacally. "Now I'll show you how a berserker wages war! "Leviathan Berg!"

"No!" Amon exclaimed as he heard the screams of mares and foals coming from Mystwood. He drew his blade, cleaving the iceberg in two with another slash coated in green energy. The two chunks toppled down, landing on the eastern and western walls, narrowly missing the southern district. Amon then approached Sven menacingly and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him high off the ground. "You animal!"

"Oooo... did I pluck a nerve, Amon? Why are you so soft? " Sven cackled as Amon squeezed tighter around his throat. "Hahaha! I know! You had a-!"

Sven's words triggered an emotional reaction in Amon, and he slammed the ice dragon into the ground, knocking him out cold. "Don't speak anymore, beast."

"That was unnecessary, Amon," Theodore said to the demonic stallion as he twirled his cane. "And I too must wonder... what drives your actions? What happened to you, Lord Demonknight?"

"My business is my own, Bearer of the Void Brand," Amon replied sharply, silencing the gentlecolt. "Focus on our goal. Don't ask any more questions... or I'll have you join Sven in his rest."

"Ah, shite..." Thatchet groaned as he used his Fester powers to lift Sven off the ground with a blob of amorphous, decayed black goo. "Damn, he's heavier than I thought."

Amon reacted as he heard a cry from one of the guards when Lamia began to rip him in half with her claws, and he stopped her before she could do so. "Halt, Lamia! You can kill him a quicker way."

"No..." Lamia growled as she grimaced at Amon with the guard in her clawed hands. "Mortal stallions are worthless pigs."

"Hmm... it would seem we all have our odd motivations..." Theodore smirked as he watched Lamia tear the guard in half. "Lamia's are... extreme, perhaps."

"And why are you here then, Theodore?" Thatchet inquired as he dragged Sven along with him. "You've been quiet about that this past month, so out with it."

"I am on the hunt for a peculiar Brand, good sir," Theodore answered him as he strolled through the streets of Mystwood, guards fleeing in his presence. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a notebook. "One that I've yet to catalogue..."

"What are you then, some kind of Brand-hunter?" Thatchet wondered.

"Not exactly, no... I'm a scientist you see, and I've been studying Brands for many decades," Theodore said as he lifted his hand to his mask, shushing himself. "I shall say no more than that..."

"So, what now?" Lamia put her hand on her hip as she licked the guard's blood from her mouth.

"We shall hold this town for Lord Alptraum," Amon answered her as he unsheathed his blade and called upon a group of vampires. "You, vampires, go east with a battalion. Stall them to let us build a proper defence here in Mystwood."

"Yes, Lord Amon," The vampire soldiers bowed as they ran into the town to gather the required numbers for their force.

"Ugghh... huh?" Sven snorted as his eyes fluttered, and he gasped as he felt the disgusting slime beneath him bubble. "Gah! What's this shit, Thatches?"

"Hang on, I'll put ya down..." Thatchet said as he placed Sven on the ground.

"Arraggh! There's some in my fur cape, ya slimy bastard!" Sven groaned as he tried brushing off his cloak.

"Oh, good... you're awake..." Lamia grumbled as she crossed her arms.

"I'd sock ya if you-! Weren't... so..." Sven's fist unclenched as he approached Lamia; her aura was beginning to effect the chemicals in his brain. "Gorgeous..."

"Good dragon..." Lamia purred as she brushed her hand against his cheek. "Could you carry a dainty little mare like me, perhaps?"

"Yes, mistress..." Sven said with a blank stare as he picked Lamia up and carried her like a baby.

"Your powers are quite devious, succubus," Theodore laughed lightly as a teacup materialized in his hand with a puff of smoke like void energies.

"Mmmm... and will you bow to me too, masked stallion?" Lamia hungrily growled as she leaned her head closer to Theodore, who didn't seem affected by her aura. "What?"

"I have no internal organs, demon. Therefore, I have no endocrine system. And thus, you have no way of manipulating the hormones in my body since I have none to speak of," Theodore grinned as he lifted his mask slightly to take a sip of his tea, revealing his fleshless maw. "Besides... my heart belongs to another."

"You're no fun, Theodore," Lamia scoffed as she rested her head on Sven's shoulder.

"Obviously, we seek 'fun' in different ways," Theodore harrumphed.

"Oh, talk, talk, talk! We're just talking! When do we plan on killing?!" Sven shouted as he gnashed his teeth ferociously. "I wanna tear somepony's head off!"

"Do not fret, good sir. You shall have satisfaction soon," Theodore tried calming the impatient ice dragon, but it didn't seem to work. "Now, we'll keep ourselves occupied and split up until they arrive. However, we'll meet here once they do, and we'll give them a proper greeting. Once we introduce ourselves, we'll draw some of them away. I'll be finding a cathedral perhaps."

"I'll find a nice brothel to get comfortable..." Lamia smacked her lips seductively as Sven placed her on the ground. "I hope there are some do-able ponies in this town."

"Can ya ever stop thinkin' about sex for one second, ya bloody doxy?" Thatchet said as he adjusted his plague doctor mask. "I'll be wranglin' any civilians in the southern end. Maybe I'll grab a drink at the local tavern too."

"Remember what I said, Dr. Thatches... do not kill any mares or foals," Amon reminded the masked stallion as he made his way south where the screams were coming from. "I shall guard the town square."

"I'll go to the lower east end. Maybe there's a fightin' arena there I can set up shop in. I'll give it a little renovation..." Sven snickered as he tucked his hands in his pockets, smashing houses with massive blocks of ice as he walked down the street.

"So, now we're off then," Theodore said to Amon as his teacup disappeared. "What of the Eclipse Caverns?"

"I shall move the bulk of our forces to that position. We need to split their army apart. I think you can achieve this, yes?" Amon said as he turned to Theodore.

"Most definitely..." Theodore laughed as he turned away. "And, Amon...?"

"Yes...?" Amon raised an eyebrow.

"I hope you find the one you're looking for," Theodore said as he trotted down the cobblestone streets.

"I do as well," Amon nodded.

"You know..." Theodore remembered a detail he had almost forgotten. "If you do find the one you're looking for, Alptraum's deal will expire, correct?

"Correct," Alptraum mumbled slowly as he bowed his head.

"Then I hope you can make the most of the time you'll have with her," Theodore tipped his top hat as he continued on his trek. "Farewell, for now, Lord Amon. I shall see you in the bout."

Author's Notes:

Sorry about all the exposition, but I think the villains need a little more screen-time! As always, I hope you enjoyed! See you in the next chapter!