The chamber remained heavy with tension, the discussions turning darker as the vampires debated their escalating problems.

The ferals were a scourge, but the Arch Vampires knew they were only one of many threats clawing at their supremacy.

Valerius Duskborne sat at the head of the table, his posture calm but his crimson eyes sharp as blades. He raised a pale hand, silencing the murmurs. "There is another matter to discuss. One that may concern us even more than the ferals."

The assembled vampires stilled.

Lady Elara Nightveil, her tone as smooth and deadly as silk, took over. "Reports have surfaced from the western regions.

Humans... using magic. They have begun slaughtering our kind. In isolated skirmishes, entire covens have been annihilated."

The room erupted in low, guttural growls. A muscular vampire to Valerius's left slammed his fist on the table, cracking the polished obsidian. "Impossible! No human could wield such power! They are prey. This is some illusion, or the work of a rogue vampire."

"No illusion," Elara replied coldly. "The humans have found a way. They have formed... pacts."

"Pacts with whom?"

"Demons."

The word hung in the air like a poison.

Demonic Contracts Elara continued, her voice steady but her expression laced with disdain. "Humans have begun forging contracts with infernal entities.

They do not sell their souls, as legend would have us believe. Instead, these demons attach themselves to their hosts, feeding on their emotions-anger, desperation, ambition-consuming them from within."

A sneer curled across Kryos Valemir's lips.

"Fools. They think they command the demons?"

Elara nodded. "Precisely. The humans believe they are in control. The demons grant them extraordinary power-enough to kill us And while the humans use this power, the demons feed, growing stronger. When the human becomes a husk of their former self devoured by their own ambition.

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Another Arch Vampire, a wiry figure cloaked in black, hissed, "Why should we fear such creatures? They are transient at best."

Elara's gaze sharpened. "Transient, yes. But effective. These humans wield dark magic they should never have been able to touch.

Blades that burn our flesh on contact. Fire that sears our immortal bodies. Entire legions of our kind have been lost in regions where these humans have risen. This is no isolated threat."

The table fell into uneasy silence until a voice rang out, sharp and mocking.

"Fear? Is this what we have been reduced to?" The words came from Arch Vampire Tiberius Vorthan, one of the visiting lords.

His voice was a snarl, his tone dripping with contempt. "Do we cower like mortals before a handful of humans playing with forces they cannot control? If you are so frightened, perhaps you are unfit to lead."

The room stiffened. Tiberius's companion, a hulking vampire with eyes like molten gold, shifted uneasily. Even he could see the line his lord was crossing.

Valerius's gaze flicked to Tiberius, cold as winter's edge. "You question my resolve, Tiberius?"

Tiberius rose from his seat, his crimson cloak billowing. "I question your inaction! You sit here debating while the humans grow bolder, while your own covens fall! Perhaps it is time for new leadership. Leadership that understands strength is the only language these creatures comprehend."

The room erupted in snarls and growls.

Several vampires stood, their hands twitching toward the hilts of their katanas, but Valerius raised a hand silencing them with a gesture.

"You wish to see strength, Tiberius?" Valerius's voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it carried an undeniable weight. "Very well."

Before Tiberius could react, shadows surged from the floor, black tendrils twisting around his limbs like living chains. They dragged him forward, forcing him to his knees before the table.

"What is this?!" Tiberius roared, struggling against the shadows.

Valerius stood, his presence towering. He extended a single hand, and the shadows tightened, constricting Tiberius's movements until he was frozen in place.

"You spoke of strength," Valerius said, his tone calm but icy. "Allow me to demonstrate."

He raised his other hand, and the air in the room grew colder, suffused with an ancient, malevolent energy. Slowly, deliberately, Valerius began to strip the flesh from Tiberius's body.

It started at his hands. The skin peeled back in thin, delicate ribbons, revealing the red muscle beneath. Tiberius screamed, a sound that echoed through the chamber, raw and primal. The process was excruciatingly slow, Valerius savoring every moment.

Layer by layer, the flesh was removed-his arms, his chest, his face-until only a grotesque skeleton remained, glistening with blood. The room was silent, save for Tiberius's agonized moans.

Valerius stepped closer, his shadowy aura almost suffocating. "Let this serve as a reminder," he said, his voice low and deadly.

"Leadership is not a right. It is a burden. And it is not questioned without consequence."

With a final gesture, the shadows consumed what remained of Tiberius, leaving only a faint scorch mark on the floor.

Valerius returned to his seat, his expression serene, as though nothing had happened.

"Now," he said, addressing the room. "Shall we continue our discussion?"

The remaining vampires nodded in grim silence.

As Luke listened from the shadows beyond the door, he felt the last embers of hope within him waver. These creatures were not just monsters. They were gods among predators-merciless, calculating, and impossibly powerful.

But even gods, he reminded himself, could fall.