Fresh Blood (Code Vein Male Reader)

Heart of Gold

Deep below the Cathedral of Sacred Blood, in a system of twisting rocky tunnels, there was yet another crypt housing a successor. That meant there were a total of three successors within that crater, with no more than maybe 20 minutes of travel between them.

Why would someone who separated the Queen lock those fragments of her being so close to one another when their objective was to prevent the reunion of those pieces? What was the point of having such a short travel time when the watchers could just teleport?

Why did Mido attack Jack and Eva? And why didn't Jack just teleport out of the fight if it was that dangerous in the first place?

All of those were questions for another day and another group, because those six were NOT in any position to debate the psychology of villainous minds. They had been taking a beating all throughout the caves, dealing with ambushes, large groups of enemies with diverse specializations, hunting for vestiges and, when they didn't watch their step, falling into holes to their deaths.

But not all was bad, since after all of that they had found a treasure trove of... nope, that was more enemies and a metal door guarded by another enemy.

A highly trained enemy, as the explorers found out after mere moments of engaging it.

Right now though? Yakumo flies back after a failed slash and a crippling counter from the black clad lost.

Falling on his back, greatsword embedding itself in the floor a good foot behind, Yakumo was bleeding from a large gash created by the cut delivered across his torso as (Y/N) moved to his side.

(Y/N): Please tell me you're okay.

The human asked worried as he shot the enemy with his bayonet, useless as it was since the faux bullets peppered the armor seemingly harmlessly.

His question earns a pained grunt from Yakumo, the answer soon following as the revenants slowly brings himself to a kneeling position.

Yakumo: I'm fine... I think. What even is that thing?

Looking up to it, the figure was still recovering from the wide swing, the black armor shifting with unnecessary breath from the lost and the huge sword resting on the ground, held by an outstretched arm at an angle after the strong attack.

From its unseen face, the thing's red eyes shone and pierced the cave's darkness as it moved the sword back up to its shoulder, avoiding the spike protruding from the shoulder pad. You could say the whole armor had a very edgy aesthetic, with sections of spiky for the arms and a sprinkle of horny (the helmet, what else?).

As the lost resets its stance, the others check themselves to continue the fight. Luca and Louis were mostly fine despite their tiredness, so they take up positions between the fallen Yakumo and the lost.

Mia was behind it, having overextended her attacks and being forcefully repositioned by a swing, looking over at her empty bayonet and taking a melee form, waiting for an opening. Io was hanging further behind the main group, acting as ranged support with her gifts since she was the second most spent.

(Y/N): Forget that thing, you're not regenerating and that's a problem.

Yakumo follows (Y/N)'s gaze and finds his open, ichor leaking wound. Not that he didn't know it was there, the pain and warmth leaking out of his body would not let him forget.

Yakumo: Yeah, I think that's it for me right now...

Io: Then run to the mistle, We'll cover you.

Io moves closer to the action, opening the way for Yakumo's escape. (Y/N) crouches beside the man and pulls his arm over his shoulders to help him stand and walk away from the lost.