The moon hung low over Zen, casting its pale glow over crumbling rooftops and shadowed alleyways. Richard crouched atop a building opposite the City Lord's estate, watching like a hawk. Lord Halric Marev—the name came back to him again and again. Once a respected noble who governed with dignity, now a ghost who rarely appeared, and whose mansion reeked of something… wrong.
The estate was too well-guarded for a dying city. Patrols of soldiers circled its grounds. Richard's sharp eye noted irregularities: some guards moved stiffly, their eyes hollow. Undead in uniforms. Even worse, magic sigils faintly pulsed along the outer wall, hidden from plain sight.
Richard had spent the entire day tracking shifts, movements, and subtle entrances. It paid off when he saw a thin, hunched servant slip through a worn arch in the lower wall. No guards followed. That was the thread he needed.
By nightfall, Richard moved through the shadows like a wraith. Down into the alley, through the tunnel. It stank of mold, but the utility corridor had long been forgotten by Zen's residents. He emerged behind the stables and crept along the ivy-covered wall, scaling it with precise, fire-enhanced jumps. A single misstep and the spell runes could ignite—he didn't make one.
The mansion's interior was lavish, too pristine. Magic candles floated in rows, lighting only paths meant to be walked. The air felt sterile, cold. Servants glided past with blank expressions. Their eyes barely blinked.
They're afraid, Richard realized. All of them.
Down a gilded corridor, past portraits of Marev smiling—a lie in every frame—he found a sealed wing. Two undead guards stood by a marble door. Without hesitation, Richard summoned a silent flame into both hands and moved like wind. His blades slid through their rotting chests, setting their corpses aflame before they could raise a cry.
He crouched beside the door and peeked through a crack.
Inside was a private lounge of crimson and gold. Plush chairs, stained-glass windows, and incense that couldn't mask the stench of blood. At the far end stood Halric Marev, dressed in regal robes, a glass of red wine in hand—though Richard doubted it was wine. Across from him sat a pale, elegant vampire woman draped in noble garments, her silver eyes glinting like knives.
Vampire Emissary: "You've served us well, Lord Marev. The humans remain compliant. Your soldiers guard without question, and the feeding is clean. Controlled."
Lord Marev (coldly): "Do what you must with the wicked. Keep the nobles safe, and the merchants fat. If Zen burns, we all lose."
Vampire Emissary: "They'll never know the truth. Not until it's far too late. The Day of the Black Sun will mark the start of the harvest. And Zen—Zen will be a feast."
Richard's grip tightened.
Lord Marev: "I've heard that name whispered before. What is it exactly?"
Vampire Emissary: "An eclipse. But more than that. A divine convergence. A moment where the barriers weaken, and our power surges. We'll take everything."
Her tone grew sharp, arrogant.
Vampire Emissary: "Even now, your streets shiver with fear. All we need is the signal. And your city becomes the first offering."
She paused.
Her eyes suddenly narrowed. Her nose twitched—like an animal catching a scent.
She turned her head sharply toward the ceiling.
Vampire Emissary: "We're not alone."
Her hand snapped forward. A black needle, glistening with venom, flew toward the ceiling beam—straight at Richard's hiding spot.
But before it could strike, a gloved hand reached out from the shadows—and caught it mid-air.
Everyone froze.
From above, a figure dropped down in absolute silence, landing on the carpeted floor without a sound. His cloak fluttered behind him, and in his hand, the needle still glinted.
Richard (calmly): "I heard enough."
The vampire emissary's eyes went wide.
Vampire Emissary (whispering): "…You…"
Halric (staggering back): "What in the gods' name—?!"
Richard stepped forward, eyes burning with controlled fury, and flames beginning to dance faintly around his boots.
Richard: "You've made a mistake. Both of you."
The firelight flickered across the walls. The air grew heavy. And in the frozen moment of disbelief, the predator stepped out of the shadows—and closed the distance.
End of Chapter 15.