Long long ago, there was a child with no name. He came from common origins and was beaten down by society. Life was super unfair to him. Nobles scorned him, the local ruffians bullied him, and he scurried the streets like a beggar. He was used to these things, having accepted his place in this world as nothing but a nuisance.
That was simply how his life was. He could either accept it or waste his life away, bitterly complaining about it. Of course, he chose the first option and spent his life freely, thinking nonsensical thoughts to escape his reality. Luckily, he still had one thing that allowed him to endure these hardships: his childhood sweetheart and fellow street rat, Rachael.
She was the most precious, doing everything to cheer him up in his sadness. In times of starvation, she would share her meager scraps and tend to his wounds after his brutal beatings. Life was harsh, but they were the happiest days for him, fully relishing in the many laughs they shared.
This spark of happiness, though, only begat more pain as passersby vented their anger after hearing their rambunctious joy. Eventually, they learned to keep quiet, but was it their fault the world was so cruel?
It wasn't, but these people found discharging their frustrations onto someone helpless. It was the only moment they could forget their life's problems and the flaws of society. It felt so good that they eventually grew addicted to chasing this high, seeking out any unlucky street rats to satisfy them.
Throughout their entire childhood to teenage years, this child and Rachael spent the majority of their time escaping these violent adults. Many of them were from their thefts, but there were the occasional thrill-seekers.
Due to their background, they had resorted to stealing food to survive, though Rachael never participated much. Our protagonist was always insisting that someone so delicate shouldn't dirty her hands like this and leave the dangerous stuff to him.
The child had been beaten countless times during these years and didn't want Rachael to experience any of that. He had only gotten severe beatings, but he couldn't imagine what would happen if a delicate maiden like Rachael were ever caught by their cruel clutches.
That was why he made her promise that she would never do such a thing. He could endure the beatings if it meant protecting her, but he wouldn't know what he would do without her. She was his everything, and he never wanted to find out.
Unfortunately, life had other plans, and he did find out. One day, a plague hit the city and bedridden many. The child was among these victims as he contracted the disease during one of his close escapes.
It was lucky the overweight baker tripped before he could grab him, but his saliva definitely landed on him. From there, everything was self-explanatory as his unsanitary lifestyle quickly caught up with him.
At first, it was some swelling and discomfort, but things quickly escalated. In a matter of days, he started vomiting and having muscle cramps. He felt so awful that he couldn't move a single muscle outside his involuntary twitches and seizures.
It got so bad that Rachael decided to enter the city and scavenge for food. She searched the streets like her younger days but had no luck. The plague had sent everyone into a panic, and they started treasuring every scrap, unsure of their next meal. That day, she returned empty-handed, but the child didn't notice her absence.
"I'm sorry I'm like this. I'll try to get better so I can scavenge for food tomorrow," he said weakly as his symptoms subsided.
"It's okay. I believe in you," Rachael replied with a fake smile.
But he did not get better but worsened as he experienced several bursts of unconsciousness the next day. Pockets of pus swelled up beneath his skin and rashes curved around his body. Between moments of clarity, he would radically scratch himself, trying to relieve the unbearable itch inside him. The only thing he accomplished, though, was to draw blood as he tore away at his fragile skin.
In his pain, the child's stomach growled in hunger after three days of running on empty. Rachael felt the same pang but hid these tendencies in an attempt to distract her friend from thinking about their grim situation.
That night, Rachael consoled him to sleep before making up her mind.
"I'm sorry, but I will have to break that promise," she whispered softly to his exhausted face. Then she walked out, determined to do whatever it took to obtain food for both of them.
The next day, the child awoke in improved condition but remained bedridden. Glancing around, he realized Rachel was missing, but he chose to trust her. They had been through so much together that panicking over something like this seemed foolish.
And so, he sat there, huddled against the wall, awaiting Rachael's return. But she never came, even as night fell. The absence of her presence brought a creeping sadness to his heart, but he tried to be understanding.
"I suppose things became too much for her, and she decided to leave. That's fine as well. With her looks, she should be able to live a better life than she has now," he said with a forced smile and a trembling voice.
Days passed like this, and Rachael never returned, further reinforcing this thought. It was bittersweet, but he was also relieved at the idea of her living a better life.
Soon, he recovered and got up from the cold ground, prepared to scavenge for anything to replenish his starved body. As he did so, he noticed two burly men carrying a large burlap sack. They looked around suspiciously before ducking into a secluded alley.
Intrigued, the child followed. Judging by the way it took two men to carry it, he assumed the bag was filled to the brim. Perhaps he could find something to eat among its contents?
A dull thump was heard as the two men discarded the bag and walked away. The child hid in the shadows, waiting for them to leave before approaching the bag.
A foul smell assailed his nostrils, but he was accustomed to unpleasant odors after rummaging through trash for so long. He was willing to endure anything to quell the gnawing hunger in his stomach, and this was no different.
"How strange. Did trash always have this rotting smell, or am I misremembering it?" he wondered as he crouched down. However, he froze in horror when he saw its contents.
His mind blanked, and a cacophony of sounds assaulted him. He was so shocked that he lost focus and instead became aware of the various noises coming from the main road. He never realized the quiet streets could be so loud.
Slowly, he refocused his attention, filtering out the overwhelming noise. As the chaos subsided, he was captivated by a faint, ongoing conversation between two men – the same men who had dumped the bag.
"Man, she was something else. What a beauty."
"I know, right? She was so delicate, and her screams were so beautiful. I've never had anyone like her."
"It's a shame she died so quickly. We could have had so much fun. On that note, do you know where the Master got her?"
"Beats me. I think the maids talked about someone trying to steal from the Master and getting caught. Who knows? Just know the Master had his fun before we got our turn. I'm just surprised she held up for so long after his abuse."
With that, they walked out of hearing range, leaving the child staring at the body next to him. It was a body covered in numerous whip marks and bruises, bearing the signs of torment the previous owner endured before her death. He carefully removed the body from the bag, paying close attention to preserving it.
Suspicious streams of thick, murky fluid flowed from between her legs, but he was too fixated on her face. It was a familiar face, despite its disheveled, wavy brown hair. Streams of tears flowed from his eyes as the child screamed in distress and pain. This time, the anguish eclipsed anything he had felt before. Not even the pain from the sickness matched it because this body was Rachael's!
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"Why is this world so unfair?! What did she do to deserve such cruelty? WHY?" he screamed hoarsely into the alleyway, regardless of the ruffians it might attract. How could he care when the one thing he had was brutally ripped away from him?
"Fine then! Since this world is so unfair, I'll destroy it. I swear it!" he vowed, feeling a miraculous surge of strength afterward.
It was as if a higher power had taken pity on him and granted him the means to fulfill his wish. In fact, that was precisely what happened as the world had blessed him with its favor, anointing him as the child of fate.
The current era had become a malignant tumor to the world, and it was determined to excise it. Given the child's motivation, the world appointed him as its agent for this generation. Hopefully, he could succeed where so many of his predecessors had failed, but the world was prepared to bless more children if necessary. It was not like this was the first time anyway.
With this transformation, the child's life took a dramatic turn, lifting him from the lowest rungs of society to the leader of the rebel forces. Everything seemed like a series of fortunate events, too good to be true. Everything was so coincidental that one would marvel at the author's imagination, but wasn't that the essence of a protagonist?
Then he received his greatest windfall when a passing demonic god took an interest in him and offered him a portion of his immortality.
"A child of fate seeking to destroy a civilization? How rare. It's not often that a world despises its inhabitants enough to send an agent of destruction. Just how did they piss off their mother planet to this extent? Oh well, you seem like an interesting person. Would you like to become my envoy? I will grant you tremendous power, but your soul will belong to me after you complete your task."
The being who spoke to him was somewhat hazy to his senses, blurred by the vast difference in their strengths. In fact, the only thing the child could clearly recall was his deep, mesmerizing voice that had an uncanny ability to command obedience. There was just a unique charm about it, compelling people to follow any directive issued.
It was a tempting offer, but the child didn't accept because of the voice, but because of the strength he would gain. With it, he could instantly achieve his goal and seek revenge on the world. He could unleash all his pain like so many had done to him, rampaging without impediments. And that was exactly what he did, casting the era into eternal darkness.
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Long ago, three vampire princes went in their separate directions, each establishing in a corner of the world. With them, they brought their closest aides and developed their own clans. Each of them flourished and expanded immensely over the years. Fortunately, the world was vast and had plenty of resources for all of them.
In fact, it was so vast that they didn't notice the recovering civilization settling beside them. Both parties grew in size, unaware of each other until a prince was awakened by the world's distressed signals. The planet was dying once again, and the source was to the west. Something in their blood told them to remove the cause, and that was precisely what they did.
He quickly delivered a message to the other clans and prepared an attack against the unknown enemy. This was Prince Macass, the youngest of the princes. The other clans received the message and promptly dispatched a large portion of their forces to his aid. Unfortunately, his brothers were still in their slumbers and showed no signs of waking.
They had lived for too long and had grown bored with life, so they entered a deep slumber to pass the time. If they wanted to forcibly awaken them, they would need to supply enough blood to rejuvenate their bodies.
Macass thought this was an unnecessary cost and led the forces himself. Luckily, it was easier than he expected for someone who gave him such a foreboding feeling. Yeah, they suffered heavy casualties, with his clan bearing the brunt of it, but no one was strong enough to pose a significant threat to him.
Having resolved this issue, Macass returned to his slumber, unaware that a hundred years later, the vampires would lose the favor of the world after his dukes unleashed another genocide.
Now, this entire clan was on the verge of extinction, leaving a single duke to maintain order. This was no surprise considering how the world now hated them after everything. Mother planet gave them their reward, but they were greedy, becoming literal leeches to the world, sucking its lifeblood.
This then left only two clans, still unaware of the exact casualties of this third clan. All they knew was that a prince had fallen, and there was another looming threat. Now, their entire focus was on awakening their lieges to deal with the unknown situation.
It was because of these efforts that Genji and Connor knew the direction of travel. It was kind of hard to overlook these giant masses of blood energy. To their trained senses, it was as apparent as a lighthouse in the night, impossible to miss unless they were blind.
Soon they reached the crossroads between the two points and the two of them agreed to split up. Genji would head for Prince Kulo, who would awaken second, while Connor would meet Roragen. His job was to lure Roragen to Kulo's nest within the timeframe between their awakenings.
"Be fast. We only have a 25-hour window before both princes awaken. If you can't lure him over by then, I will have to proceed with the plan. By then, the other prince won't be my problem but yours."
Connor nodded in understanding and steered his mount in the other direction. He was determined to complete his part, no matter the cost. For some unknown reason, his heart told him that even if he had to die trying, it would be worth it.
It was a very strange feeling considering he was never the type to sacrifice his life for others, but here he was, ready to throw away his life because of a few words from a stranger. He could never understand what came over him, but he wanted to follow through. Something inside him desired to see the ending of this play.
Connor rode swiftly and exhausted his nightbane on the trip. With each passing hour, the pressure of the blood ritual grew as Prince Roragen approached his awakening. By the fifth hour, Connor had to feed his nightbane vampire blood.
"Hang on, little guy. We're on a time crunch, so I can only do this to you."
The horse whined in pain but continued at full speed, consuming liters of vampire blood to sustain himself. By the 18th hour, Connor had to dismount and traverse the remaining distance on foot. His nightbane had collapsed from exhaustion, and no amount of blood could keep him going.
Connor patted his loyal steed and left him behind, fully aware there was no chance it would survive. They were simply too deep into vampire territory, but Connor had prepared himself for this.
After some more sprinting, Connor was at the source of the uncanny presence. Countless vampires gathered around a giant blood circle, carrying buckets of blood. To speed up the process, some stronger vampires slit their wrists and offered up their own blood.
The vampires quickly detected him and summoned their blood to attack him. They were at the last step and refused to be interrupted.
Connor swiftly drew his sword and charged at them, easily carving through the lower-ranked nobles. The dukes saw this and knew Connor was a hard foe. After exchanging a brief glance, three dukes stepped out, ready to stall the intruder until their prince awakened.
They conjured their blood, but Connor noticed it was weaker than usual.
'Must have spent a lot on this ritual,' he thought and ferociously slashed the shoulder of one Duke. Then he grabbed the other shoulder and barbarically ripped him from the wounded shoulder.
Connor launched a heavy kick, dropping him hard enough to shatter the rocky ground beneath. The vampire was dazed by this impact, allowing Connor to hack down and end him before he could react.
The next moment, multiple wounds tore his back as the other attacks landed, but they quickly healed. The two dukes were taken aback by his tenacious vitality and quickly retreated, afraid of getting into melee range.
'How could a human possess such strength and regeneration?'
Connor gave them a short glance before dashing toward the ongoing ritual. Since they kindly made way for him, he would be stupid to not take it.
'Shit! He got us.'
Left with no choice, the dukes propelled themselves forward with bursts of blood and clawed at Connor, who was expecting such heavy retaliation. Stopping instantly, he spun around with a hard slash and instantly killed another Duke.
"Dammit! This guy's a complete monster. Hurry up! I don't know how much longer I can hold him," the duke hollered at the others.
When they looked up, they almost had a heart attack when they realized two of them had perished so quickly.
'Just our luck. How did someone so powerful appear without warning? This guy's stronger than even those troublesome warriors from 300 years ago!'
At this urgency, a few close dukes exchanged shifty glances with each other without the awareness of the entire group. The leader blinked, signaling to them to be decisive. They blinked back in response, having gotten the message, and started preparing for the next action.
"Damn it! What the hell are we supposed to do? We still need half an hour to collect all the blood for..."
But before he could finish his sentence, a giant hole opened in his chest as the duke beside him ripped out his heart. This duke, though, wasn't the only one to take action.
In the blink of an eye, four dukes instantly lost their vital organs and became heavily injured. But before they could react, the assailants crushed the hearts and allowed the vital blood to drip onto the magic circle.
"What's the meaning of this, Davis?!"
One injured duke yelled in fury before the magic circle activated and rapidly drained his blood.
"Sorry, Dennis. It's better you than me. If we keep delaying like this, we will all be dead before the ritual finishes."
"Traitor! The prince will never forgive you for this!" Dennis howled before turning into an empty husk and scattering into dust.
"I'll bear all responsibility, but we need to survive until then." The leader of this backstabbing group said and rushed out to meet Connor, who had finished the last duke.
The bystander dukes had an awkward expression but quietly accepted this fact. As he had said, it was better for them than anyone else.
'Plus, it's not like they died in vain. Now they became one with his majesty, so it can even be considered an honor...'
The dukes consoled themselves as the blood circle lit up and summoned another ancient coffin. Upon emerging, all the blood rushed at it, as if it couldn't wait to force itself into it.
Within seconds, the coffin absorbed the sanguine liquid and rejuvenated into a brand-new version, unmarked by rot. Then dukes watched with bated breath as the lid slid off to reveal a mature vampire in his thirties with a small stubble. This was Roragen, the eldest prince and Connor's target.