The morning fog still clung to the streets of Zen when Richard moved through the winding alleyways. The city was waking, but barely. Few dared to roam in a place like this unless they had nothing left to lose—or nothing left to fear.
He made no noise as he approached the old bandit hideout, tucked between two collapsed warehouses in the lower district. A lookout spotted him and immediately stepped aside, bowing slightly.
Inside, the once-chaotic base now hummed with quiet tension. The laughter and drunken brawling of the past had dulled. Survival had sharpened them. And Richard had terrified them into discipline.
He walked straight toward the back, where the leader's office sat above the floor like a king's perch.
The bandit leader, a lean, scarred man with a slightly crooked nose, stood as soon as Richard entered.
Leader: "Boss. Didn't expect you this early. Please, have a seat."
Richard gave a curt nod and sat without a word.
The leader picked up a folded set of papers from the desk and slid them forward.
Leader: "The report you asked for. Vampire movements across the city. Places they frequent. Names we could get."
Richard took the papers and began scanning them.
Leader (quietly): "Some of my men died getting that. Others… didn't stay dead."
Richard paused briefly. Then he reached into his coat and tossed a small bag of silver coins onto the desk.
Richard: "Use that for the ones still breathing. Let them drink. Then get back to work."
Leader (relieved): "They'll appreciate that. Thanks, boss."
As Richard flipped through a list of locations and suspicious activity markers, the leader cleared his throat.
Leader: "Oh, almost forgot—rumor says the city lord made a pact with a high-ranking vampire. No proof yet, but the lord's estate has been busier than usual at night. Too quiet during the day."
Richard (flatly): "I'll look into it."
The leader nodded and stepped back, giving him space. Minutes later, as Richard studied the report under the flickering light, faint laughter echoed from the floor below—half grief, half survival.
Far from the rot of Zen, high in the crags of the western ridges, stood a castle carved into stone and shadow. The sky above was overcast, a curtain of grey stretching toward the horizon. At the castle's gates, undead guards stood motionless. Within, the air buzzed with activity.
Low-ranking vampires moved about in silence, hauling velvet-covered tables, ornate chairs, and crates of wine into the grand hall. Every candle was perfectly placed. Every wall hung with blood-red banners. It wasn't just a summit.
It was a party.
And for the unfortunate souls dragged in through the back—human slaves from recent raids—it was a death sentence.
Down a long corridor, lined with cold marble statues and candelabras, the head butler stepped through double doors and into a lavish garden nestled within the heart of the castle. The flowers here were black as coal, the leaves dark green with violet veins. Water ran through silver channels carved into the floor.
At the center of it all, seated in a chair shaped like a throne of bone and obsidian, was Lord Valecar.
His eyes were closed. A crystal goblet of wine balanced between his fingers. His long black hair framed a face too beautiful to be human, and too still to be alive.
Butler (bowing): "My lord. Preparations for the summit are nearly complete. The guests will begin arriving in three nights."
Valecar opened his eyes slowly. They gleamed faintly red.
Valecar (calmly): "Excellent. I do so enjoy a well-dressed massacre."
Butler: "Forgive me for the boldness, but I must ask… there are rumors."
Valecar raised an eyebrow.
Valecar: "Go on."
Butler: "The Blue Flame Hunter… he's returned. Malek is dead. Slain with ease."
Valecar sipped his wine, then smiled.
Valecar: "Malek was noise with teeth. He relied too much on brute force. Let the hunter burn him. One less fool at our table."
Butler: "Should we not shift the summit? Strike before the hunter finds us?"
Valecar rose from his seat, walking slowly to a balcony overlooking the shadowed forest below.
Valecar: "No. He is alone. Driven by rage, perhaps… but rage doesn't change fate. The eclipse draws near. When the sun dies, our rise will be complete."
He turned, his voice cold and sharp.
Valecar: "The Church has bent its knee. The revolutionaries cling to gods who will not answer. We… are inevitable."
The butler bowed lower.
Butler: "Of course… my lord."
Valecar: "Now go. Make sure our guests are welcomed. And remind them—this is not a meeting. This is our coronation."
Butler: "As you wish."
The butler left in silence.
Valecar looked to the sky. Somewhere behind the thick clouds, the sun still shone.
But not for long.
End of Chapter 14