The First Blood

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Cradle

In the ancient annals of terror, the sanctity of hell shattered when a creature from the abyss, grievously wounded, breached the infernal gates. Its once formidable form, now a grotesque patchwork of agony, stumbled into the cavernous abyss, desecrating the unhallowed grounds of Edura Cave.

Reluctant to relinquish its transient connection to the netherworld, the malevolent portal lingered ominously. As the demon entered the cavern, the earth beneath it convulsed, and with a deafening crash, the entrance collapsed. Yet, from the shadows of the abyss, colossal chains emerged, writhing like serpentine tendrils. They ensnared the wretched creature, binding its colossal form, and with an unseen and abhorrent force, dragged it to the depths it sought to escape.

Despite the triumphant expulsion of the demon, a sinister residue lingered in the cave. The air within the cavern became saturated with the acrid scent of the creature’s malevolence, an olfactory miasma that seeped into the very stones, a lingering taint that even the passage of centuries failed to erase.

A century later, a young princess, fleeing relentless pursuers, sought refuge within the foreboding embrace of the cave. Her weary, beleaguered form, wounded and on the brink of exhaustion, crossed the threshold of the unholy sanctum. Fate, however, had already woven its sinister tapestry.

With eerie prescience, the remaining bats that had made the cave their dwelling stirred from their shadowy concealment. Drawn by the haunting resonance of the lingering demonic blood, the winged denizens of the cave descended upon the princess. In a macabre ballet, the creatures seized her lifeless form and, with unsettling unity, dragged her deeper into the abyss.

Beyond the Veil

In a realm beyond the veil of mortality, a young man found himself standing before an ethereal being — a celestial entity draped in luminous robes, its countenance radiant with otherworldly grace. “Did I die?” the bewildered young man inquired, his voice echoing in the celestial chamber.

“Indeed,” the angelic being replied with a voice that resonated like a celestial choir. “On June 23, 2020, in the earthly confines of Toseong-myeon, Bongpo-ri. Your demise was marked by the somber embrace of drowning.”

The young man, his past memories shrouded in a hazy mist, struggled to recall the circumstances surrounding his untimely end. “Did I take my own life?” he asked, searching the recesses of his consciousness.

“Anything tethered to your past is now forbidden,” the celestial being declared, its gaze penetrating the young man’s soul. “Focus on the future. I understand the turmoil within you, the myriad questions that besiege your mind, but time is a luxury we lack. A task awaits you.”

“A task?” the young man queried, uncertainty etched across his features.

“In the vast expanse of the continent of Drakoria, within the fabled Lands of Edura Cave, a monstrous entity is destined to be born. The divine pantheon has christened this creature ‘Upiór’ — the one who feasts. It shall emerge into the world with an insatiable thirst for blood and flesh, driven solely by instinct. Although possessing formidable power and potential, its existence is to be short-lived, terminated by human hands mere days after its birth. This premature demise stems from the absence of proper consciousness. Your role is to bridge that gap, to evolve into an intelligent being, and initiate a lineage.”

“A lineage?” the young man questioned, his brow furrowing in perplexity.

“Yes, a lineage,” the celestial being affirmed. “Earn for yourself a name, forge an unassailable lineage. Such is the task bestowed upon you by the twelve divine deities.”

Confusion clouded the young man’s thoughts. Why a lineage? Why had he been chosen? Questions swirled within him, and the enigmatic identity of his own existence remained elusive.

“Fear not,” the celestial being reassured, its radiant presence casting a soothing glow. “All your queries shall find answers in due course. I bid you farewell.” With those words, the celestial being faded into the transcendent glow of the celestial chamber, leaving the young man alone to grapple with his newfound destiny and the mysteries that cloaked his very being.

Birth

An injured princess found her way into the sinister embrace of Edura Cave, succumbing to the cold grasp of death within its shadowed depths. Demonic bats, drawn by the scent of mortality, seized upon her lifeless form, tearing into her flesh with voracious hunger. As the macabre feast unfolded, a discordant clash erupted among the winged denizens. Each bat, driven by an insatiable appetite, turned upon its kin in a grisly ballet of devouring.

In the gruesome aftermath, a lone survivor emerged from the crimson-stained frenzy. This solitary bat, now marked by the essence of its fallen companions, underwent a grotesque metamorphosis. The echoes of the princess’s tragic demise reverberated within the belly of this last remaining creature. Within her womb lay an unborn child, a nascent life destined to be entwined with the grotesque fate that awaited.

The final bat, the harbinger of an unholy evolution, absorbed the unborn child, commencing a transformation that defied the laws of nature. Its wings, once tattered and stained, began to regenerate with an otherworldly glow. The creature’s form shifted into a chrysalis, affixing its roots deep within the subterranean recesses of the cave. There, it lay dormant for an agonizing two years, cocooned in a shroud of luminescent substance.

After the protracted slumber, the chrysalis stirred with a rhythmic pulsation. The cadence of its awakening induced seismic tremors in the surrounding lands. Finally, after the passage of two arduous years, a hand emerged from within the cocoon. Breaking free from the ethereal confines, a young boy unfolded, his skin radiating an unearthly white luminescence. His eyes glowed a haunting shade of crimson, and atop his head lay a cascade of raven-black hair.

The air within Edura Cave crackled with arcane energy as the boy, with an innocence that belied his ghastly origin, took his first steps into a world tinged with the shadows of the macabre.

Fangs

In the forsaken lands of the Edura Caves, a mysterious figure emerged, wielding unparalleled swordsmanship and strength akin to that of a monstrous creature. At the tender age of fifteen, he bested village guards twice his age, leaving the villagers in awe of the otherworldly prowess that resided within him. His crimson eyes, reminiscent of a demon’s gaze, only added to the mystique surrounding him. Whispers of admiration and fear echoed through the village, with tales of his exploits spreading like wildfire. Young girls, captivated by his otherworldly charm, were rumored to harbor secret affections for him. The conjecture surrounding his identity oscillated between him being the lost prince and a demon cleverly concealed in human guise.

Amidst the pervasive rumors, a select few were privy to the truth. Agnorkar Ryuk, the venerable village head, whose family had taken the mysterious youth under their wing, was one such individual. Seated at an evening meal alongside his wife, Druken Ryuk, and the enigmatic young boy, Agnorkar addressed him with a genial air.

“Ah, it’s been a year since our paths first crossed,” Agnorkar remarked, savoring the moment.

The Ryuk family, integral to the village’s fabric, had extended their care to the young prodigy. Expressing gratitude, the boy humbly bowed and acknowledged the benevolence bestowed upon him.

“Your generosity has been immeasurable. I am thankful for all you have provided,” the young boy conveyed earnestly.

Agnorkar chuckled, dismissing the boy’s gratitude. “We have not bestowed much upon you.”

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A year prior, fate intertwined the destinies of Agnorkar and Druken Ryuk with the young prodigy. While exploring the outskirts of the Edura Cave in search of herbs, the couple encountered a ferocious pack of bloodwolves. The village guards, accompanying them, met a grim fate at the hands of the savage beasts. It was on that perilous day that the mysterious boy emerged from the depths of the Edura Cave, wielding an uncanny prowess that defied belief. Single-handedly, he dispatched the bloodwolves, drenched in their lifeblood.

Rather than succumbing to fear, the Ryuk couple embraced the bloodstained child, offering him solace and shelter. They became his mentors, imparting knowledge of language, culture, and the ways of their village. Nurturing him as their own, the Ryuk family played a pivotal role in integrating the mysterious boy into the human community.

For two harmonious years, the boy seamlessly assimilated into the fabric of human society. However, the tranquility shattered on the fateful night of the full moon. The village, bathed in the eerie glow of lunar light, witnessed a gruesome massacre. Every member fell prey to the very boy they had embraced as their own. It was on this night that the boy’s true nature unraveled—a vampiric entity with fangs unsheathed, bringing forth a darkness that eclipsed the moonlit sky.

Memories

In the cruel expanse of existence, an easy death, an escape from relentless trials, was deemed the most precious gift one could receive. These words, though shrouded in mystery, echo through the fog of my past. My memories, elusive and cryptic, resist the gentle pull of recollection, each attempt deepening the shadows within my mind and intensifying the throbbing ache behind my temples. Bit by bit, however, I sense the fragments coalesce, as if time itself were weaving the mosaic of my identity.

Survival is my imperative. Since my inexplicable birth, I’ve committed unspeakable acts, from the slaying of monstrous creatures to the wholesale slaughter of a quaint human village. Apathetic to the morality of my deeds, I remain indifferent. Survival is paramount.

For this survival, I’ve fashioned five pillars upon which I stand vigilant: Knowledge of self, knowledge of the world, strength, adaptability, and patience. My flesh, distinct from the mundane human coil, eschews the need for sustenance, withering beneath the caress of sunlight, and aging at the whims of my volition. I am a Upiór, a blood-feasting entity, harboring mysteries even I am yet to unveil.

In my quest for self-discovery, I’ve navigated the complexities of the realm I inhabit. Drakoria unfolds, a sprawling continent draped in perpetual twilight, adorned with towering peaks, mystical forests, and desolate wastelands, each region harboring unique attributes. The Crimson Peaks. The Sylvan Veil. The Obsidian Wastes. The Crystal Isles. Eclipsar Woods. Solarian Plains. Twilight Peaks. Umbral Wastes.

Diverse races occupy these lands—Humans, Dwarves, Elves, Lamarians, Shadowkin, Aetherians. My understanding is limited, tethered to the knowledge of the villagers, yet a hunger for more propels me forward.

Strength, the third pillar, is my essence. Blood, the elixir of potency, courses through my veins. Yet, discernment is paramount, for not all blood is equal. The first encounter with a qulwolf infused me with strength, yet their blood’s efficacy waned with each subsequent feast. Similar patterns unfolded with other beings, including humans. The strength I draw from new species correlates to the power chasm between us—a symbiotic dance of predator and prey.

Adaptability, the fourth pillar, demands an understanding of this world. In the expansive Solarian Plains, human kingdoms thrive, marked by grand cities and bustling trade routes. My village, a mere fragment of this vast realm, fades into the periphery as I set my sights on Ebon Citadel. A clandestine empire, shrouded in arcane knowledge, ruled by a council of formidable mages, and adorned with aetherium wards and enchanted structures.

The villagers’ whispers tell of Aetherium—the conduit through which humans conquered lands and manifested supernatural feats. My journey, a relentless pursuit of mastery over this mystical force, propels me toward the enigmatic Ebon Citadel.

Patience, the fifth pillar, guides me. I eschew haste, naivety, and carelessness. Methodical and meticulous, I navigate the intricacies of survival, seeking not only existence but also purpose. In the perpetual twilight of Drakoria, I forge my path, a creature of shadows and blood, unwavering in my quest for meaning.

Arc One: BloodBourne

As he ventured toward the Ebon Citadel, the horizon unveiled a sight that arrested his every step. Towering at a formidable 15 meters, the Citadel’s border rose like a sentinel of ancient magic. Crafted from obsidian-hued stone, it was not a mere physical barrier but a canvas for enchantments that pulsed with latent power.

Warding runes adorned the surface, an intricate dance of symbols shimmering in response to the arcane energies at play. The border seemed to breathe, a living testament to the mastery of magic that safeguarded the secrets within.

As his gaze ascended the imposing structure, he noticed shadow-clad guardians patrolling its ramparts. Clad in obsidian armor, their eyes aglow with arcane vigilance, they were more than mere sentinels. They were masters of the arcane arts, a formidable force protecting the Citadel’s heart.

Approaching the gates, twin portals of ebon metal adorned with arcane sigils, he sensed an air of anticipation. The guards, embodiments of mystery in their obsidian armor, watched with an unwavering gaze. The gates, enhanced by scrutinizing wards, seemed to discern the very essence of those who sought passage.

But the gates wouldn’t open for him. He knew that. That’s why he kept his distance. The gates would only open for the residents of the empire or those from other kingdoms but with an entry permit to the Ebon Citadel.

The others had to go through a makeshift camp stationed near the gates, a temporary settlement for refugees. Wooden structures, hastily erected, formed a chaotic queue where people from diverse backgrounds sought shelter. Some had seen their villages razed by monstrous creatures, others expelled from their kingdoms, and some merely seeking a new life in this grand city.

“Please, m’lord, at least take my child,” a desperate woman cried. “We have no place to go, no food to eat. If not me, at least my child.”

“No,” the guard firmly denied. The woman wept as she and the child in her arms were expelled by the guards. It was a brutal place indeed.

“Next,” the guard commanded. The injured, malnourished, or elderly were not granted entry.

“Seesh. Only those who can contribute may enter,” one of the guards barked.

“Hm,” the examiner mused as he observed the unfolding scene. Dressed in plain clothes, the boy had a firm and athletic build. Standing almost 5’11, his eyes were a striking shade of red, a rarity in those lands. “Red eyes. Such a rarity.”

“I come from the Ryuk village, a small locality located near the outskirts of the Edura Caves,” the boy bowed and politely spoke. “Recently, my village was attacked by a pack of bloodwolves. To my sorrow, everyone fell victim to them. My parents, the head of the village, did their best to save me and gave me the route to this kingdom. Alas, in the end, only I survived. And now, I come here seeking shelter.”

“Shelter? Tell me, and what would we gain if we provide you shelter,” the guard asked.

“I saw my parents, my friends, the people I care for getting slaughtered one by one. I had to witness all that, and I could do nothing to stop it. I felt powerless. Hence, I wish to gain power. I wish to join the military and contribute as a soldier. And after being strong enough, I wish to slaughter the beasts who laid waste to my village,” he said with a firm look, enough to impress and convince the examiners.

“Impressive, lad,” the examiner chuckled, a note of intrigue in his laughter. The boy, maintaining a facade of resilience, continued, “I understand that mere words won’t earn me a place within the Citadel. I’m willing to undergo any trial or test to prove my sincerity. I am determined to become a formidable force for the Ebon Citadel.”

A subtle tension hung in the air as the examiner regarded the boy with a calculating expression. The camp, a transient haven for the displaced, seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the verdict that would determine the boy’s fate.

After a moment of contemplation, the examiner’s stern demeanor softened into a faint smile. “Impressive, lad. The Ebon Citadel values determination and strength. We shall see if you possess both. Welcome to the next phase of your journey.”

Thus, with a deceptive charm that belied the truth, he earned his coveted place within the Ebon Citadel.

Trial

“Rufeal Ryuk. That’s your name,” the examiner mage stated, studying the young boy with a keen gaze.

“Yes,” Rufeal replied, his crimson eyes meeting the examiner’s. It was the name the villagers who took him in had given him since he had no name prior to birth.

“You are the most physically capable among the refugees we took in. Tell me, boy, what do you wish to be? A mage? A scholar? A knight? A hunter? An alchemist?” the examiner mage inquired, his eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and assessment.

“I wish to learn more, struggle more, gain more, contribute more. I wish to understand what all of them are— their skills, their roles. I wish to be a part of this City,” Rufeal responded with determination, his gaze unwavering.

The uncanny answer took the examiner by surprise, but he nodded appreciatively. “Well then, let’s see you prove yourself.”

The examination process was arduous, pushing Rufeal to his limits. From physical trials to intellectual challenges, he faced every obstacle with resilience and adaptability. The examiners, a diverse group of mages with varying specialties, observed him closely.

One examiner, a seasoned mage with a long, flowing robe and a staff adorned with mystical symbols, focused on Rufeal’s responses to arcane queries. Another, a stern-looking woman with a collection of scrolls, tested his knowledge of ancient texts and languages. The third, a wiry man with keen eyes, evaluated his combat skills in a simulated scenario.

After passing numerous trials and undergoing exhaustive examinations, the officials of the Ebon Citadel convened to discuss Rufeal’s fate. They decided to enroll him into the prestigious ‘Ebon Institute of Sorcerers,’ recognizing his potential in various fields.

Throughout the process, no one managed to discover Rufeal’s true nature — that he was not entirely human. His vampiric essence remained concealed, a secret he guarded with utmost caution.

Now, a new chapter would unfold in Rufeal’s life as he entered the Ebon Institute of Sorcerers.