Sophie rushed outside, awkwardly bowed, and began to wait warily for what the person who had called her would say. But the vampire was in no hurry to start the conversation. First, he examined the little girl standing in front of him, then, for some reason, the clouds in the sky, and only after almost a minute did he speak.
"What do you say to the suggestion of visiting your relatives in the Sands?"
Damn stone vaults above my head are worse than... no, nothing is worse than the constantly pressing mass of stone, only a couple of centimeters from my scalp. Dwarves disliked the surface and built their cities deep underground. For several days, the group of vampires had been navigating based on the blood memory of the goblins.
Narrow passages, low vaults, dampness, musty air, and the constant dissatisfaction of the companions with these conditions. The most horrible journey, and the only thing that made it bearable was the food. There were a lot of goblins here, and every traveler was well-fed.
"I'd rather die in battle than agree to live here!" Leonid sat down directly on a moldy stone and stared at the stalagmite in front of his nose.
"We'll see what you say when we reach the dwarven city," Eugene, although he fully agreed with the expedition leader's opinion, was reluctant to publicly admit his own mistake.
"We'll reach it tomorrow and you can ask me again. I'll definitely tell you," the warlord hissed without malice.
A rest stop had been made on the instructions of the scouts ahead, and one of them approached, handing the commander a severed goblin head, naturally turned over, the fastest way to deliver someone's blood in the field, you wouldn't make the superiors lick your daggers. So quickly and simply — cut off, turned over, and brought.
Directly ahead was a camp of an entire clan. The nearest dwarven city lay on the border between two different tribes and often became a battlefield for the small folk. And now, a hungry summer had pushed one of the chieftains to the idea of finally settling the territorial claim to such a valuable place.
"Krysyuk (Ratman) escaped, couldn't catch him," the vampire woman lowered her head in guilt and apparently was not just playing, but genuinely blaming herself for such a failure.
Leonid spat at his feet and placed the goblin head on the stalagmite.
"Everyone, check your armor and weapons!" His booming voice seemed to be heard even on the surface.
"There are more than three thousand of them, do you think this is a good idea?" The triumvir tried to reason with the leader.
"We won't be able to get away from them anyway; it's better if we attack ourselves."
The situation was very dangerous. Ahead were spacious caves, and a small squad couldn't use the cramped underground conditions to their advantage.
"The main thing is to eat well! The more blood you drink, the stronger you'll become! And don't let them get behind you!"
But no instructions were needed for the girls. The vampire women were full of determination and there was no fear in their eyes. They were more likely preparing for a good hunt. The damned power that the people trapped in this world had clouded their minds better than any drug. A cold shower was needed as soon as possible, and the commander saw that.
"Listen to me, you scum!" Leonid yelled, "I'll personally kill anyone who disobeys my orders! Stand in line! Don't let anyone get behind you! Drink more blood! Anyone who leaves the ranks will be tied to a post on the surface! There are over a hundred heads for each of us, so no heroics!"
The female half of the squad was deeply offended by the "scum" comment. This was evident from their faces and their actions. But none dared to express their displeasure in words. Of course, the warlord would be remembered for this small speech for a long time, but the main thing was to survive the battle, and apologies could come later, even if it took a few hundred years to do so.
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