---The Vampire Village---
The serene tranquility that had defined the vampire village for centuries was broken and its place rose a stifling tension, accompanied by an oppressive aura incredibly dense. Beyond the towering castle walls, the world had descended into a fever dream of violence.
A relentless violet tide, a roiling mass of chitin, claws, and glowing eyes, crashed against the fortifications. Standing firm against the surge was an unbreakable phalanx of steel: the Vampire Knights, Nobles, and Captains, their blades rhythmic and lethal. At the North Gate, High Commander Rorg was a towering over the other Ironkkongs. Every swing of his massive polearm carved a bloody arc through the horde, his roar competing with the screeching of monsters. He stood as a singular pillar of defiance, holding the breach alongside the allied commanders and clan soldiers, their collective power forming a dam against the flood of Class-X beasts.
Despite the suddenness of the onslaught, the unified clans held the line at all five gates with grim efficiency. Inside the walls, the village remained a haunting contrast to the perimeter. Miraculously unscathed, the cobblestone streets saw no bloodshed; instead, they were filled with the ghostly, disciplined shuffle of a mass evacuation.
The Obsidian Sanctum
Yet, high above the carnage, in the silenced sanctity of the Royal War Room, the air gave off a cold, calculating dread.
King Lucian stood at the head of the obsidian tactical table. Around him sat the Clan Leaders of the era: Finn Virefang, Laura Mindveil, Fay Phasera, Foki Mimscryst, and a heavy, brooding Gondor Ironkong.
Floating runes hovered above the table, flickering with real-time casualty counts and structural integrity reports.
"The lines are holding," Vane reported. His fingers danced across the runic interface, weaving light into data. "The horde is vast, but they lack cohesion. Without tactical direction, they are merely throwing themselves into our defenses. Our Knights are harvesting them with peak efficiency. I believe this many class X beast cores will favor us greatly"
"It lacks elegance," Finn Virefang muttered. His eyes, cold and analytical, scanned the glowing map. "Class-X beasts are apex predators, most vampires live their lives without even encountering a single one; and they always move solo, having this many class-X beasts attack at once and together suggests the possibility of a higher power. This can't just be brute force without a brain and frankly, there are way too many of them. It's obviously a distraction."
"Vane, scan the perimeter again. Is there any sighting of the Entity? There must be an incision point we aren't seeing. I mean, I did send my team to go ahead and investigate after that surge of ominous aura washed over the settlement."
"Perhaps he is hidden in the violence somewhere waiting for us to drop our guard from the confidence of defeating these creatures," Laura Mindveil added. Her violet eyes glowed and pulsed with a hypnotic, predatory hue. "We could be hacking at the shadow, while the true body moves through the dark."
Fay Phasera moved in a blur, appearing at the opposite end of the table beside Vane in a heartbeat. "My logistics teams are reporting cascading failures in the teleportation grid. A localized jamming field is suppressing long-range jumps. It's even beginning to affect the Knights' short-range blink-steps. This isn't just a siege, Lucian. We are being trapped."
Gondor leaned forward, his massive frame casting a literal shadow over the rest of the leaders. "Vane," he growled "What of my team? You said Zorr managed a distress signal before the jamming went total. What is his status?"
"And my team?" Finn interjected, "Captain Valera is not one for silence. If she hasn't reported, the situation in the crimson forest must be far grimmer than what we are holding off here."
Vane hesitated, his hands hovering over the light. He stole a glance at the King.
"Speak, Vane," Gondor commanded, his fist tightening. "Those are members of my family out there; I need to know what's going on with them!"
"We received a final burst transmission from Commander Zorr just as the jamming field solidified," Vane said, his voice dropping an octave. He pulled up a jagged, pulsing audio-visual waveform. "They have engaged the enemy in the Red Zone."
"And?" Gondor pressed.
"If Zorr is calling for reinforcements, he isn't fighting the same class X beasts we have swarming our gates" Vane said gravely. "The transmission confirmed contact with three Class-X Behemoths beings of a morphology we have never recorded. Their energy signatures... well they matched the essence of the Entity, the same aura that washed over us just recently."
A heavy silence smothered the room. Foki Mimscryst watched the waveform, his eyes rippling with the distorted reflections of worried faces.
"The Entity? So you are saying there is a chance the entity must be out there facing them instead?" Laura murmured with a worried look on her face, her voice trembling for the first time. "If that's true then we were right and this truly is a planned invasion of the Entity."
"It is coming to the village," Lucian concluded. His eyes narrowed, reflecting the red glow of the map. "If the Entity has deployed three Titans simply to pin down Zorr, it means the main force, or the Entity itself is already within our borders."
Gondor's fist finally descended, cracking the obsidian table with a sound like a bone breaking. "Then my men are trapped in a slaughterhouse with three gods while we sit here swatting at flies?"
"The signal was severed immediately after the report," Vane stated, his voice flat and professional to mask the grim reality. "We have lost all telemetry. We do not know status."
Gondor's jaw tightened, his teeth grinding with a sound like shifting stone. He stared at the static on the screen, his eyes burning.
"We cannot send reinforcements," Lucian stated. His voice was a cold, final gavel strike.
"Luci—" Gondor started, but the King cut him off with a look.
"If we divert any more soldiers to the Red Zone while not knowing the whole situation, even if we are able to hold off somehow against the endless swarm of beasts flooding out gates. What do we do about any other inevitable threat that befalls the village, keep in mind the Entity is coming, and if were to base off on just the aura some time ago, then it is not one to be taken lightly, not even by us, the village—is being evacuated in preparation for that."
"Zorr knows his duty. He was sent there to observe and report, and now the inforseen has happened. So now, they must hold that line... while we do our parts here as well."
Gondor sank back into his heavy chair, his gaze fixed on a single, blinking red dot on the map, miles away in the wilderness.
He whispered into the silence. "Damn it!"
The Red Zone - Western Ridge
Miles away, Captain Valera of the Virefangs was in an intense life-or-death battle.
One that she has never experienced before.
Her breath came in short, sharp gasps that burned her lungs. Her world had narrowed down to the point of her rapier and the twenty feet monstrosity standing before her.
General Eleven, Malak.
He was a mountain of spikes and violet muscle. Massive obsidian shards erupted from his shoulders and back like a chaotic mane. His skin was thick, purple hide that seemed to absorb the light, and his eyes burned with a mocking intelligence.
"Move," Valera hissed to herself.
She blurred.
"Virefang Blood Art: Venomous Waltz."
In an instant, she was a blur of light that moved in a zig-zag pattern so fast she left afterimages. Malak swiped a massive claw at her, a blow that would have leveled a building, but she was already gone. She appeared under his guard, her rapier glowing with red energy.
Thrust. Thrust. Slash.
Three strikes in a fraction of a second. Two to the knee joint, one to the soft tissue under the armpit.
Her blade bit deep. Black blood sprayed.
Malak didn't even grunt. He simply stomped his foot.
BOOM.
The ground shattered. Valera leaped back, flipping mid-air to land on a jagged rock, her boots skidding on the stone.
She looked at her handiwork. The wounds on Malak's knee were already bubbling. The black blood didn't run; it hardened instantly, turning into a fresh, jagged layer of obsidian armor. He wasn't just healing; he was reinforcing.
"Little... vampire," Malak rumbled, his voice heavy and compelling. "You... sting... but... that... is... not... enough to kill."
"I'm just finding the artery," Valera retorted, keeping her voice steady, though her heart pounded against her ribs like a trapped bird. 'He's too dense. My strikes are perfect, but they lack the mass to shatter the bone.'
Malak flexed his shoulders. The obsidian spikes on his back rattled ominously.
"Spike... Storm."
He hunched forward. Dozens of razor-sharp obsidian shards launched from his back like missiles.
"Shit!"
Valera dove. She rolled behind a massive boulder just as the area was carpet-bombed. The shards struck the rock with the force of cannonballs, shattering the stone cover into dust. Shrapnel grazed her cheek, drawing a line of red.
She scrambled up, forced to retreat, moving backward as Malak advanced.
I can't get close, she realized. If I stay at range, he shreds me. If I close in, I can't hurt him deep enough.
She needed an opening. A big one.
She flared her aura. The crimson light around her tightened, sharpening into a needle-point. She would have to use that technique. It consumed massive stamina, but it was the highest-output piercing art she knew.
She charged.
Malak saw her coming. He raised a massive fist to smash her into the dirt.
Valera slid. She dropped to her knees, sliding under the punch, the wind of it whipping her dark red hair. She aimed her rapier directly at his chest, channeling every ounce of her speed and precision into the tip.
"Virefang Blood Art: CRIMSON-OBSIDIAN ROSE!"
She thrust. Not once. A hundred times in a single heartbeat. The strikes bloomed on his chest like a flower of death, drilling into the same spot over and over, chipping away the armor, seeking the heart beneath the stone.
Crack. Crack. CRACK.
She broke through. Her blade sank deep into his flesh.
"Got you!" she screamed.
Malak looked down at the sword buried in his chest. He didn't fall.
He smiled.
He flexed his pectoral muscles. The flesh clamped around her blade like a vice.
Valera tried to pull it out. It was stuck.
"Caught... you, little bug" Malak whispered.
He backhanded her.
The blow caught Valera in the ribs.
CRUNCH.
She was launched sideways. She smashed into the canyon wall, twenty feet up, and fell to the ground in a heap.
Her vision went blurry. The world was spinning. She tried to breathe, but her ribs screamed in protest. She was struggling to keep her breath under control, while bleeding profusely from all over.
She looked up, her vision going dark. Her master-crafted rapier was still stuck in Malak's chest. He reached up, ripped it out with a wet tear, and snapped the obsidian blade in half with two fingers.
He dropped the pieces in the dust.
"Weak," Malak mocked.
Valera dragged herself to her knees. Her beautiful armor was split open. Her face had pain and concern all over it. She was disarmed, broken, and alone against a monster.
She looked toward the North, where Zorr was shaking the earth against Goros. She looked to the East, where the squad battled Vruk. They were all occupied. No help was coming.
But she was a Virefang. But this time, their ability of precision wasn't doing much to help her.
She took a chug of spare blood all vampire soldiers carried around to speed up her healing and then reached into her boots and pulled out two daggers. They were small, seemingly insignificant against a monster like Malak, but the moment her fingers touched the hilts, they erupted with swirling, enormous red mixed with some green energy.
"Don't... get... cocky on me, you hear? " Valera said while still struggling to breathe, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper as the energy hummed violently around the blades. "You only broke my rapier. Let's see how you do against these. My actual weapons. Ready for round 2?"
Her broken ribs knit together with a crunch, effects oof the blood she consumed. Her bruises faded.
She stood up, locking eyes with the Titan.
"Let me introduce myself, I am Captain Valera Virefang," she spat, tossing the empty flask aside. "Remember that as you exit this world."
Malak laughed, the sound vibrating in the earth. He began to walk toward her, heavy.