The shells whistled through the air, landing on the snow-covered ground and bouncing off.
Sand and snowflakes scattered, and a nearby vampire screamed, flung into the air in a spread-eagle shape, crashing heavily to the ground.
With a crisp crack, red mist drifted from a broken pipe.
Without much pause, he exerted strength with his hands and stood up, hopping forward on one leg.
His right leg below the calf was blown off by artillery, preventing him from walking on both feet.
But before he could hop a couple of steps, several Holy Alliance soldiers with frost-reddened ears caught up to him.
"Wait..." he shouted loudly in Baroque, but the soldiers couldn't understand him.
One kick knocked him down, another stomped on his back, and a sharp steel bayonet pierced through his chest.
He wanted to cry, but unfortunately, vampires have no tears.
Once he was silent, the soldiers continued to pick up their clockwork guns, either shooting from a distance or chasing to stab.
