The rain fell in thick sheets, soaking the ashes of what once was Kenneth's world.
They had fled the castle under cover of the moonlight, leaving behind the smoke, blood, and betrayal. Malrik, the ancient vampire advisor once bound to Kenneth's mother, had become his guardian, mentor, and only family. Together, they wandered the outer forests—untamed lands swarming with elemental beasts, feral monsters, and the lingering cries of war.
Malrik's destination was not a shelter, nor a refugee haven. They were bound for the Human Nation of Velmora, a vast sovereign territory known for its technological cities, elemental academies, and strange balance between magic and science. Unlike the vampire courts or werewolf packs, humans had developed unique societies centered around individual abilities. Every human, from birth, wielded some sort of power—many weak, some absurd, a few deadly.
But Velmora had rules. Entry meant blending in. Which meant hiding.
"We'll need to assume identities," Malrik had said one night, perched on a branch while Kenneth skewered a slain direboar for dinner. "You'll call me your father. We'll pose as immigrants. Beast hunters who fled a razed borderland."
Kenneth had nodded, expression distant, eyes glowing faintly red in the firelight.
—
Three Months Earlier...
The training had begun with nothing but brutal repetition.
Blood tendrils. Crimson spears. Vein whips. Malrik drilled him day and night in the clearing, barking orders, dodging Kenneth's strikes with unnerving grace.
"You hesitate," the elder vampire said one morning, brushing blood off his pale cheek. "Again."
"I don't want to kill," Kenneth growled, eyes flickering between golden and red.
"Then die. That is your alternative."
He trained harder.
But not all was discipline. At night, Kenneth sat alone by the river, staring at his reflection—the delicate features he'd inherited from his mother, the strong jaw from a father he hated. A prince. A monster. A mistake.
Malrik found him there once, silent.
"You are not your bloodlines," the old vampire said softly. "You are what you become."
That night, Kenneth wept into the earth.
—
Over the weeks, Kenneth's control deepened. He could summon blood blades from his forearms, launch arterial spikes from his palm, even form hardened armor over his heart. But some techniques—those tied to purebloods—remained out of reach.
"Don't worry," Malrik reassured. "You don't need their legacy. You'll carve your own."
Kenneth smiled. He was changing.
—
It was Kenneth's first solo mission.
The Ironhide Bear, a mountain-dwelling elemental beast with obsidian fur and breath of molten vapor, had mauled entire villages. Kenneth tracked it across the ridges alone.
The fight was a bloodbath. His ribs cracked. His arm shattered. But in the end, Kenneth buried his claws into the beast's skull and roared louder than the storm above. His blood attacks ignited with adrenaline, his werewolf side raging, tearing, surviving.
When he returned, barely alive, Malrik wordlessly set the bone in his arm, then sat beside him.
"You could have died."
"I had to do it. Alone."
"...Then well done."
—
Kenneth's eyes became colder after that. Sharper. He no longer hesitated to draw blood—but still, he never killed unless necessary. A contradiction. A balance. The beginnings of something terrifying.
—
One Month Later
The edge of Velmora gleamed in the horizon: floating rails, solar towers, energy domes. The human capital was alive with flying machines, merchants, beast-hunters, and children throwing sparks from their hands.
Kenneth adjusted his black cloak.
Malrik smiled faintly. "From now on… we're human."
And with that, the boy who once lived in a vampire castle, now passed through Velmora's gates under a false name, hiding his bloodline beneath golden eyes and charcoal hair.
He had no idea that within those city walls, destiny awaited.
But that… was another chapter.