The forest stretched endlessly, swollen with beasts of every shape and level. This was exactly why the Ironkongs used it for their royal recruitment trials. There were plenty of creatures for the young vampire nobles to hunt, but even with their variety, none rose beyond the Bloodwrought tier—the strongest a recruit was ever expected to face. And the vampire knights overseeing the trial were each powerful enough to handle one of those alone. If anything truly dangerous stirred, they'd intervene long before a noble could be harmed.
Barek moved through the trees with an easy stride, humming to himself like he was out for a morning walk instead of an initiation test.
"Look at him go. Dude's way too relaxed," joked a vampire with a row of razor-thin braided coils running straight back like quills, each one tipped with polished black metal. When he grinned, the coils shifted and clicked softly—like a porcupine made of steel, his name was Skarrin.
"I remember when I took the test," Bronx said. He had the same sturdy build like most Ironkongs and a bit of a resemblance to his dad, he wore the clan's military uniform like the rest of the guards and trainees with a few more stripes than the others showing he's ranked higher than the nobles, he had his hair short, tight waves that caught the light , clean, giving him a stylish edge over Gondor.
"Yeah, and you actually did well," Skarrin replied, nudging him. "Your stats were solid. Better than mine, for real. We were impressed."
Bronx exhaled through his teeth, disappointed. "Man, I thought I was gon' crush it. Maybe even set a record or something."
A third knight, his nameTag, stepped forward — the one with shoulder-length dreadlocks pulled tight into clean, symmetrical rows, each lock bound at the base with thin bands of dark metal. He clapped Bronx on the back with an easy grin. "Aye, relax. You did your thing. And besides, you literally got an eternity to level up so what's the rush?"
Bronx snorted and shook his head, though a smile pushed through.' Wonder how the lil' man gon' do. Gotta admit—kid's strength got me curious.'
All three focused their eyes on Barek as he slipped deeper into the shadows of the forest.
_____________
Barek stood in the thick underbrush, roots curling around his boots like living ropes. Above him, a dense canopy knotted the forest into deep shadow, letting only faint, pale glimmers of bioluminescent moss slip through like drifting emerald smoke.
The first sound was a chitter. Then another. Then a wave of it—skittering legs and wet, slapping tentacles dragging across the forest floor. The Flesh-born swarm tore out from the dark, numerous of them, bodies like swollen spiders with fleshy antennae twitching and bulb-like tentacles whipping wildly from their backs.
They came straight for him.
One tentacle lashed out. Barek leapt, pushing off the ground like a coiled spring leaving off a bit of crater where he was standing. He twisted midair and landed effortlessly on a thick tree branch, the tentacle cracking against the bark where he'd just stood.
He grinned down at them, eyes glowing red. "Finally."
Another tentacle snapped toward him from below. Barek vaulted to a second tree, sliding along the branch as he rose higher. Suspended in the air for a few seconds, he glanced over the writhing mass beneath him.
"One… two… three… seven? Man, that's it?" His face dropped in mild disappointment.
A third tentacle nearly clipped his head. He tilted back at the last moment, letting it slice past him, then steadied himself.
On the ridge above, the vampire knights watched.
"He's just dodging," Bronx muttered.
"Naa, he feeling 'em out," Skarrin answered, arms crossed. "Checking how they move before he turns up on 'em."
Tag, the vampire with the dreads leaned forward. "Yeah, and from the way he fought in the tourney, I doubt he'd be defeated this easily, ya know"
Down below, Barek called out over the chaos, "flesh-borns? What the hell? I was hoping to land some Night-Marrows right off the bat at least!"
Another tentacle shot toward him. This time he didn't dodge. He snatched it mid-swing, with his hand, eyes glowing red, he planted his feet and crushed the wriggling flesh in his hand. It burst in a spray of green slime.
"Eurgh—yo, what is that smell?" He flung the mess aside. The tentacle regrew almost instantly, knitting itself back together with a sick squelch.
Barek squinted. "Huh. Y'all regenerate? That's kinda cute… it's a shame you just flesh-borns though."
He cracked his knuckles, settling into a fighter's stance.
"Alright then. May I have this dance?" he said, laughing at his own words in his mind.
The first flesh-born lunged. Barek slipped under its legs in one smooth motion and drove his palm into its gut. The creature collapsed in on itself like soaked paper, bursting in a spray of dark ichor mixed with an obsidian core from the beast. The sludge splattered across his shoulders, dripping down his chest in thick ropes.
"That's one," Barek muttered as the blood soaked him completely, turning his skin slick and black.
"Damn! That's cold," Skarrin muttered, scrunching up his face.
"Bruh… is it just me, or does he not look motivated at all?" Bronx said, eyes tracking Barek's movements.
"Nah, you right," Tag replied with a slight smirk. "Kid ain't even trying yet. Let's just see how far gets with that attitude."
Another flesh-born pounced from behind. Barek didn't even bother to look. He kicked back heel-first, and the impact detonated the beast's skull with a wet pop—like someone smashing a melon with a hammer.
"Two," he muttered, already turning.
Three more scuttled in at once, tentacles whipping the air into a frenzy. Barek slipped between them like it was nothing, movements precise and almost lazy.
"Man, c'mon now… y'all attacking like you already tired."
One tentacle lashed too close. Barek caught it, yanked the beast clean off the ground, and spun it overhead before hurling it into another. The collision cracked through the forest like snapping stone. Their bones shattered on impact, and both collapsed in a tangled, twitching heap.
"This is just too easy, damn."
Up on the ridge, Bronx narrowed his eyes. "They're not even gettin' a chance to use their regeneration."
A fifth flesh-born dropped from a branch above. Barek launched upward to meet it midair, driving his knee straight through its thorax. The monster burst open in a messy bloom of flesh and viscous black ooze, raining down around him as he landed back in the muck.
By now Barek was drenched—head to toe—in the thick, dark fluid the beasts bled. Obsidian cores scattered around his feet.
The last two flesh-born crept in a slow circle around him, tentacles curled tight and trembling.
"Aww, now you scared? After all that big energy y'all came in with?"
One snapped forward on instinct. Barek sidestepped, snatched its head mid-lunge, and slammed it into a tree. Once. Twice. A third time—hard enough that the massive trunk cracked and toppled over with a thunderous crash, the beast sliding lifelessly down the bark.
Skarrin's jaw dropped. "What!?"
Tag looked genuinely rattled. "Yeah, I feel you, man… he still ain't awakened an ability, right? So where the hell is all that power coming from?"
Bronx said nothing. He just watched; eyes locked on Barek with a mix of interest and unease.
The tree Barek had casually knocked over wasn't ordinary—one of the thick, ancient giants of the forest. Even among vampire nobles, knocking one down without a strength ability was unheard of… unless you were Ironkong. Even then, this? This was pushing it.
The final flesh-born froze. Barek walked toward it slowly, wiping blood from his cheek with his thumb. With his skin soaked dark, eyes glowing red beneath the dripping ichor, he looked like something crawled up from the abyss itself.
"You gon' try something… or nah?"
The creature reared back, tentacles flaring in desperation.
"Wrong answer."
Barek vanished in a blur, reappearing with his fist buried straight through the beast's core. A hiss of dark vapor spilled from the wound as its body sagged around his arm. He yanked free, holding the obsidian core between his fingers before letting it drop to the ground with a dull clink.
He shook the gore off his arm, sighing—not triumphant, not excited. Just mildly annoyed.
"That all y'all got? Man… weak."
Above, the vampire knights watched in stunned silence.
Skarrin whistled. "Yeah… he gon' be a problem."
Bronx nodded, eyes wide. "Promise."
And Tag just smiled nervously "The kid's nuts."
____________
A projection shimmered in the throne room as another youth finished his trial. He had fought well—tore a flesh-born apart with his bare hands, only to be blindsided by a night-marrow and knocked cold. Guards stepped in and instantly dealt with the beast in a matter of seconds then called the test over.
The room murmured quietly, elders exchanging knowing glances. Gondor lounged back on his obsidian throne, fingers idly rolling his mala beads.
"Hnh," Gondor rumbled, his voice deep and dusted with old steel. "Boy got heart. Plenty strength too. With training he gon be aight."
Another elder leaned forward. "I agree."
A second nodded. "Strong enough for his level."
Gondor continued looking at the screen, deeply looking forward to seeing a particular vampire noble he had recruited along with the rest.
The scrying pool shifted.
And Barek filled the screen.
The forest looked like a battlefield. flesh-born of every shape and size—lion-bodied crawlers, horned sprinters, hulking stone-backed brutes—lay scattered in heaps as he just kept moving forward deeper into the forest. Some cracked open, some pulverized, some missing half their bodies. Dark ichor soaked him from collar to boots.
You could see the excitement on his face as he kept dealing with all the beasts that came at him. Just dusting his knuckles like he'd been stacking firewood.
One elder's brows rose. "This one's been at it for a while now, one would expect him to drop any moment now from fatigue or atleast slip up getting his-self knocked out."
Another whispered, almost reverent, "Bronx set quite the high bar in his day… but this one—this Barek—he's making his own strides ain't he?."
Gondor's smile widened slowly, the pride unmistakable even under layers of authority. "Mmm… there it go. That's the fire I been waitin' on. Boy movin' just like I knew he would. Now then… how far you gon' take it, kid??"
His fingers drummed on the throne's arm.
The third elder exhaled. "Monstrous potential."
The scene lingered on Barek—standing alone amid the wreckage he made, eyes glowing faintly, posture now wild and anticipating more