It began with silence.
Not the kind of silence that's peaceful, but the kind that rots in your ears until every second feels like a scream waiting to happen.
Yuki was gone.
One moment she was teasing me about my "overprotective brooding face," and the next… nothing. No note. No trace. Not even the faintest whiff of her scent in the castle corridors.
I searched everywhere. Her room. The gardens. The training yard. The kitchens. Even the damned bathhouse. Nothing.
Every step I took hollowed me out more. Every servant I questioned gave the same answer:
"I haven't seen her, Young Master."
"I do not know, Young Master."
"She has vanished, Young Master."
And for once—for once—none of them dared to laugh, or gossip, or make their usual snide comments behind my back. They could see it in my eyes. I wasn't playing this time.
Inside, I was ripping apart.
Where is she? Where the hell is she?
Rage burned in my chest like molten lead. Hatred festered in my bones. Sorrow gnawed at the edges of my sanity. I'd thought the prophecy was just words, but now? Now it clawed at the back of my mind like a vulture.
My world was unraveling.
The first clue came from a skeleton guard—jittery, clattering, bowing too low. His voice trembled like loose teeth.
"A carriage… it left the grounds last night, Young Master. I-I was not on duty then, but… Sir Wolf was."
Knight Wolf.
The first person I'd met in this damned nightmare. The one who'd guided me through the castle's doors. The one who called me Young Master with that broken loyalty.
I didn't even think. I ran.
Down the grand staircases, across the echoing halls, through the gates that groaned under my push.
And there, in the distance, I heard it—
A horse's scream.
"Hairless," I breathed.
I sprinted, faster than I ever had, the wind tearing at my suit. Branches clawed at my arms. My vision blurred with fury and fear.
And then I saw them.
Knight Wolf, his rusted armor gleaming dully in the moonlight. Hairless, bound with chains, thrashing desperately. And in Wolf's gauntleted hand—a sword, raised high, ready to plunge into the horse's chest.
I saw red.
"YOU—!"
I slammed into him with every ounce of strength I had, tackling him to the ground. His head tumbled from his hands, rolling into the dirt.
"Y-Young Master—!"
I didn't let him finish. I grabbed his head by the helmet, lifted it high… and hurled it into the trees.
The body scrambled, crawling blindly. Pathetic.
I tore Hairless free, ripping the chains apart with a savagery that startled even me. The horse pressed its cold, hairless flank against me, snorting weakly.
"Good boy," I muttered, my voice trembling. "I've got you."
Then I picked up Wolf's head again. His eyes glowed faintly, flickering in terror.
"Y-Young Master, p-please—"
"Where is she?" My voice was a growl. A snarl. Barely human.
"I-I do not—"
I didn't wait. I stripped a piece of armor from his struggling body—a gauntlet—and shoved it into Hairless's mouth.
The horse bit down. Metal crunched like brittle bones. Wolf screamed.
Piece by piece, I fed Hairless his armor. Breastplate. Greaves. Pauldrons. Each time, Wolf howled. Each time, I asked the same question.
"Where is she?"
Sweat—or blood—dripped from his eyes. His voice cracked. "I-I helped him! I helped the priest!"
My hands tightened around his skull. "What priest?"
"The… the priest of the Sun Temple. He said he would spare me if I obeyed. He said the Dark Castle will burn. I—I only wanted to survive—"
"Name." My voice was ice.
He shuddered. "Alexie."
That name hit me like a hammer. The fake smile. The priest I'd met in the city. The one who'd looked at me like prey.
Something inside me broke.
I stumbled back to the castle, Wolf's head under my arm. I threw the doors open, stormed down the halls, past the muttering servants who shrank from my gaze.
Straight to him.
To my "father."
Dracula sat upon his throne of obsidian, his red eyes gleaming faintly in the dark. He regarded me with an unreadable calm, his clawed hands folded on his lap.
"Father," I hissed. "They took her. The Sun Temple took Yuki. Alexie—he—"
"I know," Dracula interrupted. His voice was quiet thunder.
"You know? Then help me!" I slammed Wolf's head onto the floor, the sound echoing like a drumbeat. "Give me your army, your knights, your damned monsters—I don't care! We have to—"
"No."
The word froze me.
His gaze pierced me like knives. "The Temple moves against this castle. Their flames will rise before dawn. If I march away, all within these walls will perish. You know this."
My chest constricted. "So you'd let her die?"
"I would not let anything. But this is war, Sebastian. Choices must be made."
I shook with fury, my fists trembling. "Then give me something. Anything."
Dracula was silent. Then, slowly, he rose. From the shadows, he drew a blade—a black longsword that drank the torchlight. A set of armor followed, shimmering with spectral runes. A bow of bone and a quiver of arrows clattered at my feet.
His voice was iron. "If you would go, go as my son. If you would save her, do so with your own hands."
I didn't bow. I didn't thank him. I snatched the gear and stormed out.
Wolf's head dangled in my grip as I mounted Hairless again.
"You're going to guide me," I muttered.
He whimpered. "Yes, Young Master."
We rode.
Through the fog, past the skeletal trees, toward the burning horizon. Along the road, I saw them—knights of the Sun God, their golden armor shining, their voices rising in chorus.
"Purge the night!"
"Burn the demons!"
"Glory to the Light!"
My stomach twisted. My people—the ones in the castle—were going to die screaming while I rode away. My claws dug into the reins until they bled.
I should be there. I should be fighting with them. But Yuki—Yuki—
The chants faded behind us. I didn't look back.
Hours passed before the Temple rose into view, its spires blazing with golden fire. The heat singed the air. The smell of ash and burning flesh made me gag.
I dismounted, yanked Wolf's head from my side, and crushed it between my hands.
The Spell whispered.
[You have slain an awakened demon:the shadow knights]
[You received a Memory:Shadow Knight's Armor]
I didn't care.
I walked into hell.
And then I saw her.
Yuki.
On a cross, her arms nailed open. Her gut torn wide, bleeding endlessly. Her tails—her beautiful tails—ripped out, discarded like trash at her feet. Her face was pale, lips trembling, eyes half-shut.
My mind shattered.
Somewhere in the haze, a voice spoke.
"Welcome to my church, Sebastian."
Alexie rose from where he knelt, his white eyes glowing with fanatic light. He smiled, blood and ash streaking his face. White flames danced along his hands.
"Shall we begin?"