Electric currents surged through the werewolves' hulking bodies.
Having been tamed by Carrigan and the vampires, the beasts could only roar madly, their blade-like claws raking bloody gashes across their own chests.
Their powerful hind legs carved deep furrows into the ground as their bloodshot eyes locked onto Sean, emitting low, feral growls like rabid dogs.
Centuries ago, werewolves were kept as slaves by the vampires... That was until Lucian, the great Wolf King, rose in rebellion, allowing them to stand as equals against their shared ancestors, the bloodline of Alexander.
Now, aside from the angels and demons exiled by the Three Sanctums and Kamar-Taj, they were the two reigning monarchs of the dark world. Though forced to lurk in the chaotic shadows of Eastern Europe, they at least preserved their dying species.
When the previous Sorcerer Supreme, Agamotto, established the Three Sanctums around Kamar-Taj and trained sorcerers and monster hunters, the golden age of these dark creatures came to an end.
In the old days, vampires had been the protectors of human nobility... and the werewolves, upon their rise, saw the weakest humans as mere cattle. But as time marched forward, they failed to become the world's true rulers, instead being swept into the dust-laden corners of history.
Once the sorcerer system was fully established, these creatures hiding within human society faced a brutal purge...
Confronted with the cruel reality, the leaders of vampires and werewolves were forced to discard their pitiful remnants of pride and bowed before the Sorcerer Supreme to beg for peace and survival...
The golden Gatling spat fire like the furious roar of a dragon.
Driven forward by their collars, the werewolves fell with mournful howls as their massive bodies were blown apart...
The arena had emptied. The wealthy elites scrambled for cover, terrified that the man who had effortlessly slaughtered werewolves would turn his attention to them.
However, the metal gates leading back up were blocked by a dark-skinned man unleashing carnage, his brutal efficiency freezing them in fear. The panicked VIPs scurried like ants on a hot pan, desperate for an exit...
Sean lifted the energy-forged weapon, then his gaze shifted to the shadows where figures writhed.
Then he said with a smirk, "How long do you plan to hide?"
From the darkness at the end of the corridor, a blond man emerged, leaning on an ornate cane with aristocratic grace. A sharp-eyed guest spotted the hidden passage behind the wall and began shouting orders, demanding the man open the secret escape route.
The blond man grinned, revealing sharp fangs as cruel amusement flickered across his pale face.
"Why leave so soon? The party has only just begun."
His figure blurred like a ghost as he snatched up a trembling beautiful woman. His elongated fangs pierced her veins, his crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
As a vampire of the illustrious Volturi clan from Italy, he prided himself on refinement. By tradition, blood constituted eight percent of a human's body weight, but he only took the purest eighth, which was drawn from the heart and brain.
The Volturi were considered royalty among vampires, and their standards for blood was comparable to a sommelier's for vintage wine.
In under ten seconds, the unfortunate woman who was chosen as an appetizer withered into a pale doll, and was discarded without a second glance.
"Trash, not even fit to be food."
His indifferent gaze swept over the cowering elites before his bat-like wings unfurled, spinning like blades as he unleashed a storm of slaughter.
"Human, whether you are a Sanctum sorcerer or a monster hunter, you will not leave here alive today."
Having disposed of the helpless VIPs, the blond man stood atop a viewing box and looked down at the figure in the cage.
The white-masked youth held the golden Gatling, and was surrounded by fallen werewolves. The fading strains of Hallelujah gave the scene a grotesque beauty.
Violence and blood intertwined with redemption and justice, like a religious oil painting steeped in darkness.
"Breathe your last. You will not see tomorrow's sun." The vampire's wings folded as he prepared to strike.
As a high-ranking bloodsucker, his strength and speed surpassed human limits, and his near-immortal regeneration made him a match even for London Sanctum's sorcerers.
"It might rain tomorrow." Sean's dry joke hung in the air as countless pairs of crimson eyes gleamed from the shadows, all fixated on him with predatory hunger.
The blond man snapped his fingers like a nobleman summoning servants. The darkness surged as a tide of ravenous bats swarmed forth, engulfing the young man in a living black wave.
These "pets" of his were insatiable... They once reduced a grown man to a shriveled husk in twenty seconds. For an immortal being, such diversions were necessary to stave off the boredom of eternity.
"That useless Carrigan. Always forcing me to clean up his mess." Were it not for fear of Mephisto's power, he would have long since torn the filthy ex-mercenary apart.
Soon, the hell-lord capable of rivaling the Sorcerer Supreme would be reborn into the mortal world... and with his patronage, vampires and werewolves could finally defy the Three Sanctums.
Their era would rise again...
A detonation of flames shattered his grand vision.
From within the bat swarm, a fiery lotus bloomed, its scorching tongues reducing the creatures to ash in an instant. The golden Gatling dissolved as the ancient ring flared with blinding radiance.
Sean extended his hand... and in a flash, thousands of magic circles materialized, each birthing a flaming javelin aimed at the motionless vampire.
"I've always wondered... just how far can a high-ranking vampire's regeneration go?" Sean's outstretched hand clenched into a fist.
A tsunami of energy erupted.
The Volturi noble's handsome face twisted in terror as the crushing pressure stifled even his immortal lungs. His wings snapped open like blades, but before he could take flight, the inferno crashed down.
Hundreds of flaming spears fell like artillery shells. The bombardment left a smoldering crater where the vampire had stood.
The amount of energy that Sean had unleashed overloaded the ring, and it shattered into embers as the thunderous roar faded. The VIP room was obliterated, its remnants now a charred fissure.
Within it, a blackened, twitching mass of flesh struggled weakly, "Ghh… gh…"
Somehow still alive, the high-ranking vampire's mutilated form writhed as his regenerative abilities fought against annihilation. His hollow eyes which scorched blind flickered with primal fear.
"Tsk tsk. Impressive resilience. You might make decent test material."
A demonic voice whispered as Sean crouched beside the creature and poked at the seared flesh with clinical interest.
The genetics of these 'immortal' species fascinated him. Alexander's bloodline had three branches... vampires, werewolves, and humans with recessive genes, each wielding unique gifts.
Before he could ponder further, a roaring engine echoed through the ruins.
A section of the wall exploded inward as a flaming skeletal rider atop a ghost-faced Yamaha VMAX burst into the arena in a spectacle of hellfire and fury:
"YOU... ALL HAVE SINNED!"
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