It was midday in the village, and people were going about their usual routines. A group of small children played with insects near the village gate when a band of cloaked figures suddenly appeared.
The insect the children had been chasing scurried toward them. Laughing, the children ran after it—only for the man at the front of the group to step on it without hesitation.
The children froze.
They slowly looked up and met his gaze. His eyes glowed a deep, carnivorous red.
Fear gripped them as they backed away, watching the cloaked figures continue into the village.
As the group passed through rows of stalls and shops, more villagers became aware of their ominous presence. Mothers hurriedly pulled their children indoors. Shopkeepers shut their doors. Within moments, the lively village turned into a ghost town.
When the group reached the village center, they were confronted by ten men, each with a sword strapped to his waist. The men quickly surrounded the intruders and drew their blades.
"Well now, what's this?" the leader of the rogues said with amusement.
"You tell us," one of the men replied. "It's not every day we get bloodthirsty visitors in our humble village."
The leader chuckled. "You could tell we were here, but we made sure not to emit that much spiritual energy. That means there's only one other way you could have found us."
He removed his hood, revealing dull orange hair with pointed ears protruding from it, blood-red eyes, and razor-sharp teeth.
"And what would that be?" the man asked.
"Isn't it obvious?" the leader said, smirking. "The instinct that compels all beings to survive."
"…Fear."
The man scoffed. "Like we'd ever be afraid of you!"
"If that's true," the leader replied calmly, "then why did you rally all of the village's fighters to stop us?"
The words stunned the men.
Another spoke up, disbelief in his voice. "How could you possibly know we're the only fighters here?"
"That's easy," the leader said. "Among all the villagers, you're the only ones with spiritual energy—though pitiful as it is."
One of the men snarled in rage and charged forward.
"I'll make you pay for mocking us, you bastard!"
The leader effortlessly sidestepped the attack and grabbed the man by the throat.
"Seriously," he said with a sigh. "You humans are so predictable. Just a little teasing, and you lose all reason."
His grip tightened, causing the man's neck to snap leaving the djinn's hand covered in his blood.
"Now that you've discovered who we are," he continued coldly, "we can't let any of you escape… can we?"
Another rogue raised his hand into the air. Blood burst from his arm, shooting skyward. At its peak, it spread outward, forming a massive crimson sphere.
"Blood Manipulation: Blood Moon Sphere!" the djinn roared.
The blood pulsed with energy, expanding until it engulfed the entire village. The men looked up in horror to see a glowing red barrier sealing them in.
The djinn licked the blood from his claws and smiled.
"Now," he said softly, "consider yourselves prisoners of war."