The moon hung like a bloodstained coin over the mountains as Russ left the safety of the Talen manor. His scythe rested against his back, the broken mask hidden in his coat. Every step he took toward the jagged peaks of Nocturn Vale felt like walking deeper into a grave he was digging for himself.
The scroll had been clear—the Bloodbane Seal was hidden in the Tomb of Night, guarded by spirits older than the Vampire Clans themselves. No mortal or immortal could touch it without paying a price in blood.
Russ smirked. Good thing I'm rich in that department.
---
The Ritual of the Crimson Veins
He stopped at a cliffside altar carved into the rock, its surface stained with the offerings of those who had sought forbidden power before him.
Russ drew a dagger across his palm, letting the blood drip onto the stone. The altar drank it greedily, glowing faintly.
He whispered the incantation his mother had forbidden him to learn:
"By vein and shadow, by fang and flame, awaken the Blood Qi within my name."
His veins ignited like molten fire. Blood Qi surged through him, thick and potent. His senses sharpened—he could hear the flutter of bat wings miles away, the heartbeat of prey hidden in the trees. His shadow rippled unnaturally, stretching far beyond the reach of the moonlight.
A voice whispered inside his mind:
"You feed the beast. But the beast feeds back."
Russ ignored it.
---
The Ambush
As he reached the valley floor, the ground beneath him cracked. From the fissures crawled Wraithspawn—half-shadow, half-flesh abominations with glowing red maws.
Russ twirled his scythe, Blood Qi wrapping around its blade in jagged crimson arcs.
Shadow Step.
In a blink, he vanished from sight, reappearing behind the first wraith. His blade carved through its spine, blood sizzling on contact.
Another lunged, and Russ unleashed Crimson Burst, expelling his own blood as razor-thin needles that pierced the creature's heart. It shrieked before dissolving into mist.
But they kept coming—dozens now, their claws scraping against his shadow like they could tear it from him.
Russ slammed his palm into the ground, pouring Shadow Qi into the earth. Nightbind. Black tendrils shot up, ensnaring the wraiths, crushing their bodies until their screams stopped.
When the last one fell silent, Russ's breathing was ragged. His qi reserves were draining faster than he liked. But he was still standing.
---
The Tomb of Night
The entrance to the tomb stood before him, its archway carved with the fangs of long-dead beasts. Inside, a dim red glow pulsed like a heartbeat.
As Russ stepped through, his shadow detached from his feet, walking ahead of him. It turned, and in his own voice, it spoke:
"One step closer, Russ… and you're no longer the hunter. You're the offering."
Russ tightened his grip on the scythe. "Then let the gods take their offering from my cold, dead hands."
The tomb doors slammed shut behind him.
Far above the mountains, in the ruins where Ravien waited, the air rippled. The ancient vampire opened his eyes, a cruel smile on his lips.
"He's coming. Good. Let him."