The rain came hard that night.
Blackridge's streets shimmered under the storm, the glow of streetlamps casting halos through the downpour. In the shadows of the city's alleys, something stirred—something old, something hungry.
They arrived without warning.
Atop the chapel where Adrian first met Vaelen, three figures appeared like ghosts. Clad in armor dark as obsidian and etched with symbols of the old war, their faces hidden behind iron masks. They moved without sound, but every step left frost on the stone beneath them.
Hunters.
Descendants of the Bloodbound Order—mortals who once served the Crimson Empire but turned on their lords centuries ago. Betrayers who had sworn to exterminate the bloodline and end vampiric dominion forever.
Now, they had returned.
And they had found the heir.
Adrian sat in the lower chamber of the Vault, shirtless, his skin marred with bruises and cuts from Kira's relentless training. His breathing was heavy, his body sore. But his eyes—those were sharp now, alive with the spark of power.
Kira crouched across from him, sharpening one of her curved daggers. "You're learning faster than I expected."
"Pain is a good motivator," Adrian said.
She smirked. "You'll need more than pain where we're going."
Vaelen entered, his cloak damp with rain, his expression grave.
"They are here."
Kira stood instantly. Adrian's heart skipped. "The hunters?"
"Yes," Vaelen said. "The Bloodbound have sent their elite. The Iron Masked. Their presence means the Council suspects you live."
"Council?" Adrian echoed.
"The ruling body of the Crimson Court's exiles. Those who rejected the Empire after my son's death. They believe the Empire must fall completely—and your bloodline is their greatest threat."
Adrian stood. His blood felt electric, his heartbeat like war drums.
"What do we do?"
"We strike first," Vaelen said.
The plan was swift and brutal. Kira scouted their movements. Adrian, using his growing sensitivity to blood and shadow, tracked their location from the rooftop echoes. Vaelen prepared the Vault's defenses, calling upon glyphs that hadn't burned in centuries.
At midnight, they made their move.
Adrian and Kira approached the ruined bell tower on the east edge of campus—a favorite haunt of ghosts and myths. According to Kira's intel, the hunters had taken refuge there, cloaked in mortal illusion.
They didn't expect resistance. Let alone Adrian.
He kicked in the side door, his senses sharpened by darkness. Time seemed to slow.
The Iron Masked turned.
The first leapt at him, claws extending from gauntlets like jagged glass. Adrian ducked, slid, and drove a steel-forged stake into the hunter's side. The creature screamed, crumpling.
Kira danced through the fight like a wraith, twin daggers a blur of motion. Blood sprayed across the floor.
The second hunter tackled Adrian, slamming him into a beam. Pain bloomed across his chest, but he reacted without thinking—his hand burst into crimson flame, and he drove it into the hunter's face.
The mask cracked.
The hunter fell.
The last one stood in silence.
Unlike the others, this one carried no weapon. Only a long, silver chain coiled around his wrist. He stepped forward, unwrapping it slowly.
"You are the heir," the hunter said, his voice low and inhuman.
Adrian lifted his blade. "Yeah. You got a problem with that?"
"Not for long."
The hunter snapped the chain—lightning-fast—it wrapped around Adrian's wrist and began to burn. Holy silver.
Adrian screamed.
Kira lunged at the hunter, but he caught her mid-leap and hurled her across the chamber. She slammed into the wall, unconscious.
Adrian fell to one knee. The silver seared into his skin. His vision blurred.
The hunter stalked forward, raising a black dagger. "The line ends here."
Adrian clenched his jaw.
He remembered the throne. The visions. The boy in flames. His ancestor's screams.
He stood.
His eyes glowed red.
With a roar, Adrian surged forward. The silver melted off his wrist. He grabbed the hunter's arm and crushed it with inhuman strength. The dagger dropped.
Adrian caught it.
He drove it into the hunter's chest.
The mask shattered.
The hunter's face, pale and twisted with rage, disintegrated into ash.
Silence fell.
Adrian stood panting. Blood dripped from his hand. Kira groaned behind him, rising slowly.
"Well," she said, limping over. "That was dramatic."
Adrian chuckled weakly. "Wasn't in the mood for subtle."
She looked at the remains. "That was a Blood Seer. One of their best. If he was here… more are coming."
Adrian nodded. "Then we need to move faster."
Back at the Vault, Vaelen examined Adrian's injuries. "The fire within you… it's awakening faster than I thought. You channeled blood flame. Very few have ever done that without full transformation."
"What does it mean?"
"It means the Empire doesn't have a month. We may need to perform the Rite sooner—or risk another civil war."
Kira entered with a bloodstained scroll. "We found this on the hunter."
Vaelen unrolled it.
A map. A list of names.
And a mark: the seal of the Bloodbound Council.
"They're building an army," Vaelen said. "And they've already begun hunting the last loyalists."
Adrian leaned over the map. His eyes locked on one location: the ruins of Black Hollow Keep—an old fortress Vaelen once ruled from in secret.
"It starts there," Adrian said.
Vaelen looked at him.
"You're certain?"
Adrian nodded. "I don't know how. But I remember it."
Kira raised an eyebrow. "Then it's not just your blood waking up. It's your past."
Adrian clenched his fists.
No more running.
No more hiding.
The heir had been found.
And war was coming.