MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

Chapter 402: Aria

The new Damien's face was a mask of horror and disbelief. His ice sword clattered to the ground as he rushed forward, pushing past a stunned Blake.

"No, no, no," Damien muttered, falling to his knees beside the decapitated body. "It can't be... Mimic?"

As if responding to the name, the headless body began to convulse and shift. Its form rippled like water, changing rapidly. First, it took on Reggie's appearance, then Damien's, and finally, it settled on a perfect copy of Blake himself.

Damien cradled the shifting body, his face a picture of anguish. "Mi...mimic?," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Why... why did you..."

Blake stood frozen, the reality of what had happened slowly sinking in. The head in his hands had dissolved into mist, leaving him grasping at empty air.

Damien looked up at Blake, his eyes blazing with a mixture of grief and fury. "You," he snarled, his voice barely human. "You did this. You killed her!"

Blake took a step back, his mind reeling. He had been so consumed by rage, so certain of his target, that he had never questioned the identity of his opponent.

As the shifting form finally settled, revealing the decapitated body of a young woman, Blake's initial shock quickly gave way to a grim realization. This was Mimic - the very same person who had played a part in ruining his life alongside Damien.

Damien's anguished cry cut through the rain. "Mimic... no... Aria!" His voice, usually so cold, now trembled with raw emotion as he cradled the lifeless body. For the first time in centuries, he called her real name, Aria.

Blake stood silently, his face a mask of stoic contemplation. The momentary pang of guilt he'd felt evaporated like mist in sunlight. This wasn't an innocent victim - this was an accomplice to the pain and suffering he'd endured.

"I didn't know it was her," Blake said, his voice devoid of remorse. "But I can't say I regret it."

Damien's head snapped up, his eyes blazing with fury and grief. "You... you monster!" he snarled, but Blake cut him off.

"Monster? That's rich, coming from you," Blake retorted, his own anger rising again. "She was just as guilty as you are. How many lives did she help you ruin, wearing the faces of others?"

From their vantage point, Duncan's impassive mask cracked slightly, a flicker of intrigue crossing his features. Elena gasped softly, her eyes darting between the combatants.

Damien gently laid Aria's remains down, frost creeping across the rooftop as he rose. "She was loyal. She was family," he growled, ice forming deadly blades around his hands.

"She was a tool," Blake shot back, his blood swirling around him in anticipation. "Just like everyone else in your twisted world, Damien. And now she's paid the price for it."

Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating the scene of violence and vengeance. The consequences of this battle would echo far beyond this blood-soaked battlefield, but for Blake, it was one more step towards settling the score with those who had destroyed his life.

The rooftop fell into an eerie silence, broken only by Damien's choked sobs. The once-proud vampire prince collapsed beside Mimic's remains, his body shaking with uncontrolled grief. Blake stood motionless, his face an emotionless mask as he watched his nemesis crumble.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the blood on the rooftop began to move. It crept along the concrete, forming a thin crimson trail that snaked towards Blake. As it neared him, it started to take shape, coalescing into something more solid, more deadly.

Blake's eyes never left Damien's broken form. His voice, when he spoke, was cold and resolute. "This ends here, Damien. For Rose, for Celena, for everyone you've ever hurt. No mercy. Not anymore."

From their elevated position, Elena watched the scene unfold with growing alarm. Her eyes widened as she realized what Blake was forming with his blood. 'Why isn't Damien fighting back?' she thought, her brow furrowed in concern. 'He's going to get himself killed!'

She glanced at her own hands, remembering the knight she had lost to Blake's fury. 'I didn't fall apart like this. Get up, Damien! Fight!'

With desperation etched on her face, Elena turned to Duncan, her eyes pleading silently for intervention.

Duncan sighed heavily, his expression one of mild annoyance. "I suppose everything must be done by oneself," he muttered. His form began to shimmer, reminiscent of Drake's teleportation ability.

In an instant, Duncan vanished, reappearing just steps behind Blake. The ancient vampire god raised his hand, fingers rigid, prepared to plunge it through Blake's back.

Time seemed to slow. The air crackled with tension. Blake, focused on Damien, remained oblivious to the looming threat behind him.

Suddenly, a dark shadow portal materialized out of nowhere. From its depths burst Gunther. Without hesitation, he threw himself between Blake and Duncan.

Duncan's hand, meant for Blake, plunged deep into Gunther's chest with a sickening crunch. Gunther's eyes widened in shock and pain, blood spurting from his mouth.

"Arghh!!!!" Gunther roared feeling a hand close around his heart.

Blake whirled around, his face contorting in horror as he saw Gunther impaled on Duncan's arm. Damien's head snapped up, momentarily shocked out of his grief by the unexpected turn of events.

"Gunther!" Blake's anguished cry cut through the night air. The blood construct he had been forming dissolved instantly as he stood in horror.

Duncan stood motionless, his hand still embedded in Gunther's chest, a look of mild surprise on his usually impassive face. "How... unexpected," he murmured.

Elena gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. 'This wasn't supposed to happen,' she thought, her mind reeling. 'How did he know? How did he get here so fast?'

Just then, the air shimmered as two more shadow portals began to materialize across the rooftop. From these dark, swirling vortexes emerged Reggie and Randal, their bodies tense and ready for battle. The undead women they had been fighting were nowhere to be seen, trapped in an endless loop of shadow portals - a clever strategy devised by Gunther before leaving them behind to come help Blake.

As the two knights stepped onto the blood-soaked concrete, the scene before them froze them in their tracks. There, in the center of the chaos, stood Duncan, his arm plunged deep into Gunther's chest. The younger knight's body was slumped, held upright only by the vampire god's lethal grip.

Reggie's eyes widened in disbelief, his voice caught in his throat. Randal's good eye darted between Duncan and Gunther, desperately searching for any sign that this was just another of their junior brother's miraculous escapes.

"Gunther!" Reggie finally managed to call out, his voice rough with emotion. "Come on, kid. Pull another one of your tricks. Like back in '93, remember? That vampire lord in Prague?"

But as Gunther slowly raised his head to look at his brothers with a smile, they knew. This wasn't like Prague. This wasn't like any of the other close calls they'd survived together over the decades when they were mercenaries. The light in Gunther's eyes was fading, but his lips curled into a smile - defiant to the last.

With trembling hands, Gunther summoned the last of his strength. He moved his arm, the action clearly causing him immense pain, and formed the sign of the crucifix across his chest and forehead. A final act of faith, this act was core to the beliefs he had clung to even in this world of monsters and darkness.

Then, in a move so quintessentially Gunther, he managed to raise his hand one last time. With blood bubbling from his lips and his life slipping away, he extended his middle finger directly at Duncan's face.

"F....fuck..y..you" Gunther said spitting out more blood.

The rooftop fell silent, the weight of the moment pressing down on all present. Reggie and Randal stood frozen, their faces only that of shock. Blake, still reeling from the sudden turn of events, could only watch in horror, fingers trembling.

And then, like a puppet with its strings cut, Gunther's head dropped. His body went limp, the last flicker of life extinguished.

Gunther was gone.