[ Present Time ]

 

“Hahh?!”

Lucas sat back up in bed, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

Sweat beads streamed down his brow, his dishevelled hair adhering to his sweaty skin. He sat in bed halfway up, his legs tucked behind the covers, his chest heaving as he battled to regain his breath.

His dishevelled hair fell across his face, partially obstructing his vision, but he paid it no mind. It was a realisation that flooded over him and sank deep into his being.

"So, this is what Kleir meant," Lucas mumbled, his voice tinged with amazement and perplexity. "The memories... they've finally resurfaced."

He took time to collect himself, his thoughts gradually slotting into place as he digested his newfound information. It was as if a piece had been put together, and he could now see the big image.

"But this body... it's different," Lucas murmured, his fingertips stroking over his skin with interest and fascination.

The sensation was out of this world, beyond anything he had ever felt before. Being in the body of a vampire created an entirely new set of experiences and perspectives.

A strange feeling spread across his body, emanating from his very centre.

It was as if an unseen force was coursing through his veins, pulsing with a vibrant vitality that roused every fibre of his body. He stroked his fingers lightly along the curves of his arm, his touch providing an intriguing surprise.

The skin seemed cool to the touch, yet there was an underlying warmth to it as if a dormant fire was simmering just beneath the surface. His blood, which had before been sluggish and mundane, now flowed with an exciting vigour, each beat ringing with explosive vigour. Lucas closed his eyes, sinking deeper into this strange new world of feelings.

With his enhanced vampire senses, he could detect the most minute vibrations in the air, creating a symphony of energy that whispered secrets only he could hear.

The very pulse of life resonated with him, weaving a tapestry of existence well beyond the scope of ordinary human experience in his past life.

His newly refined senses picked up on even the smallest changes in energy. With a sudden clarity, the world seemed to come alive.

“Best baked bread at only 1 Grele!”

“Best magic scrolls available with the lowest amount!”

The chatter outside, the gentlest rustle of leaves, the distant flutter of wings, even a passing creature's weak heartbeat—all reached his ears with exquisite precision, weaving a vivid tapestry of the world around him. He felt an incredible connection to the world around him with each breath.

The air, which he had previously taken for granted, suddenly had a distinct flavour, an ethereal essence that tingled on his tongue. It could have been because of low pollution or due to something related to his body.

It seemed as though breathing itself was an act of communion, pulling in the essence of existence itself. He longed to see his reflection, to witness the transformation that had taken place.

When he realised there was no mirror in sight, he felt a slight sting of disappointment.

"Ah, well," Lucas murmured, a mournful tone in his voice. "I suppose I'll have to rely on others to see my new form."

Suddenly, Lucas felt a wave of seriousness rush over him as he focused his thoughts, his thoughts merging with the task that was given to him. It was time to be serious.

So from now on, I am Kleir La Brume, second son of the Brume House. I should get ready soon as I remember we had come here for a mission. We need to fulfil that and get out of here as fast as possible.

***

Kleir heard a number of knocks reverberate through the wooden cottage as he completed adorning himself in a black cloak, disguising his appearance from inquisitive eyes.

Is it her or those soldiers? Regardless, I should be careful.

His senses heightened, and he tightened his grasp on his sword, bracing himself for whatever lay beyond the door.

"Who is it? Identify yourself," Kleir ordered, his voice confident and authoritative.

"Ah, are you awake, young master?" replied the visitor, confirming her identity. "This is Irene de Montfort, your loyal knight, at your service!"

Kleir's brain recognised the familiar voice. It is, after all, her.

He approached the door with caution, cracking it open to show the white-haired knight who had heroically shielded him all night.

Creak!

"You may enter," he responded, his face expressionless.

Irene went inside with grace, immediately assuming a bow on one knee. "Yes, sir!"

Kleir watched her from beneath the hood of his coat, keeping a detached demeanour. "Where have you been?" he asked, his tone emotionless.

"Sir, I was scouting the area while you regained your strength," she said, still bowed.

"Hmm," Kleir mumbled, his expression concealing his true emotions. "You deserve to be commended for your actions last night. You did an excellent job of protecting me. Your efforts will be duly rewarded upon our return."

"I am already humbled by your kind words, young master! Your generosity knows no bounds," Irene responded gratefully.

"Enough with the pleasantries," Kleir said, returning his focus to the fractured spot in the cottage from which he could survey the outside world. "Rise and give me your report on what happened after I went unconscious. How many people survived?"

"Right away, sir!" Irene said, her voice determined as she straightened up and assumed an attentive stance.

Irene's voice was heavy with the weight of the previous conflict and the sacrifices that were made.

Her report gave a vivid picture of the deep battle that had ensued following Kleir's unexpected passing out. Many of the gallant and devoted knights had fallen while protecting him from the unrelenting attack of the army.

The two soldiers who had been trailing them were somehow killed, but the situation took a dangerous turn when human reinforcements arrived.

These were not regular soldiers, but the feared Inquisitors—a band of highly competent assassins and knights dedicated to the annihilation of vampires in the name of purification.

In an unexpected turn of events, the vampire knights tasked to guard Kleir had also arrived, resulting in a violent battle that took a terrible toll on their forces. Eight of the fourteen knights assigned to this mission had perished, their lives snuffed out amid combat.

Nobody could have predicted the outcome—the appearance of the Inquisitors had caught them off guard.

Kleir's mind churned with a flurry of thoughts as Irene relayed the events. He tried to piece together the jumbled data, looking for the reason for the setback in the middle of the chaos.

How did they realise our arrival?

Did the information get leaked? But how could it be possible?!

It was our first live mission after decades of being held on that confined island!

Something is wrong and I must figure it out as soon as this gets wrapped out.

After the prolonged battle, their damaged group had somehow made it to the lawless city—a shelter for individuals fleeing watchful eyes.

Their tired souls found solace in a small wooden home with three rooms to fit their reduced ranks.

Along with Irene, the surviving male knights took turns resting and standing vigil throughout the night, ensuring Kleir's safety as he gradually regained his health.

Kleir fixed his focus on Irene, his face was solemn yet determined. "Irene, thank you for explaining. What became of the fallen knights?"

Irene's eyes were downcast, and her voice was sorrowful.

"We were unable to recover the bodies of our fallen comrades due to the intensity of the crossfire. I apologise for my failure in that regard, sir. Those damned humans..." Her voice trailed off as she expressed her indignation and anguish.

Kleir stretched his hand towards Irene, closing the gap between them, his tone warm and consoling. His form glistened in the sunlight, his crimson eyes twinkling with a seductive brightness. "You and your comrades have shown incredible bravery. Take comfort, for we shall pay our respects to the martyred beside the vampire lord's shrine. Though humans have desecrated that sacred site, it nevertheless holds enormous significance for our kind."

Irene's heart skipped a beat and her cheeks flushed as she became enchanted by Kleir's charisma.

"I-I sincerely apologise for my earlier words... Your words honour me, Young Master!" Her voice was trembling with amazement and respect.

Her mind was filled with deep curiosity regarding the young master whose behaviour seemed to have drastically changed.

When did young master change so much? It’s as if it’s a completely different person!

No, maybe I am overthinking, nobles like him always have a great insight!

Kleir smiled softly before reverting to his severe demeanour. "While we must remember our fallen, we must also recognise that this mission cannot be completed solely through our efforts. We need more intelligence and connections."

"You speak the truth, sir. Our previous haste led to our downfall," Irene agreed, nodding.

"Summon the other knights. We'll be leaving soon. Once we have gathered a substantial amount of intel, we shall return to our island stronghold to regroup and prepare. You are dismissed," He said commandingly, his gaze fixed on the files he had taken from a nearby table.

“At once, Sir!” Irene replied confidently.

They both raised their rapiers and dramatically declared a salute, "Embrace the crimson dawn, break the chains of humans!"

Shortly, Irene left the room. Kleir was submerged into the files that read the details of the mission. They were in territory that had formerly belonged to vampires but had now been taken over by humans.

The royal family of the newly created Crimsonheart Empire had entrusted Kleir and his devoted band of knights with a task. Their goal was to regain the hidden vampire lord's ancient writings, obtain his holy sword, and sabotage critical government sites in a severe declaration of war against humans.

"This mission... we must succeed," Kleir stated emphatically, his voice hard and determined. "we will obtain the vampire lord's sacred scriptures and secure his holy sword, no matter what!”