Sitting in the gathering room, I tried to piece together how I had found myself in the middle of a war among the clans. Derrick and Antolio sat nearby, quietly watching me, even after I'd suggested they get some rest. But I knew they were waiting for orders, watching for any hint of the next step.

I needed time to think, to piece together a plan that could keep us all alive. I was fighting for survival in a town that seemed intent on spitting me out, a place where I was clearly not welcome. And the more I uncovered, the more it became apparent that I was being pulled into a war that had been brewing long before I ever arrived.

There was no room for fear, not anymore. I understood all too well what would unfold in the coming months. Fear was a luxury I couldn't afford—a weakness that would only doom us all. I had to push it down, bury it deep, and face whatever lay ahead with a clear mind. The culling of Adams Town was inevitable, and whether I was prepared or not, I was now caught in the center of it.

My eyes drifted to my mother's portrait, searching for answers she could no longer provide. I finally understood why she chose to hide the existence of this town and the dangers lurking within it. The logic was painfully clear: I was born into a place run by monsters, even if now I count myself among them. She wanted to protect me from that darkness, to give me a chance at a life untouched by the bloodshed and brutality that surrounded Adams Town.

Children deserve to grow up among other children—innocent, untainted by the monstrous world that exists in the shadows. She had wanted me to have that chance, a life that didn’t revolve around survival, fear, and the hunger that turns people into beasts. But fate had a cruel way of catching up, and here I was, standing at the edge of the abyss she’d tried so desperately to keep me from.

But amidst all the questions swirling in my mind, one haunted me the most: Who had kidnapped Harold, and why? Lydia had hinted at his questionable dealings with the vampires, but so far, they had only made requests—not outright threats.

Derrick, who had been quietly observing me, finally spoke up. "Young master, I hope your silence means you're formulating a plan."

"I apologize, I'm just lost in thought. But tell me, Derrick... what do you know about the war of the clans?"

"The culling of Adams Town? Not much, to be honest. I've only been a werewolf for a few decades. But from what I've overheard, the last war was brutal. And in my opinion... the vampires hold the upper hand. Before you arrived, Antolio and I planned to hide in the forest until a victor was declared."

"How do you know the vampires hold the advantage?" I asked, leaning forward, needing to hear more.

"It's no mystery, young master. The old sewer system beneath Adams Town is infested with vampire ghouls. It’s an extensive network of tunnels right under our feet, spreading beneath the entire town and even reaching into the forest. Every inch of those tunnels is overrun with these creatures."

"Vampire ghouls? What exactly are they?"

"The vampires have been using those tunnels for years, hiding their mistakes, their experiments... and their discarded servants. I know you've only been in Adams for less than a week, so you haven't encountered them yet. Vampire ghouls are the remnants of what were once human servants—humans drained to the brink of death and kept alive just enough to serve. They're not fully turned vampires, but something far worse. The Royal Vampires perfected that process. These servants were nothing more than cattle to them. Now, after they have served their purpose, they become mindless and ravenous creatures with an insatiable thirst for blood."

"I've heard the Royal Vampires don't hunt their prey on their own, Is that true?"

"Yes, my lord. The Royal Vampires rarely lift a finger to hunt anymore. Their prey comes to them willingly, especially the young and the desperate. The Scarlet Clan has created an entire system to lure people in—promising wealth, power, and, for some, even the chance to become a full-fledged vampire. They call it the 'Familiar Initiative.'"

"A familiar initiative? So, they offer people a chance to join their ranks, but it's all an illusion?"

"Exactly," Derrick said. "The promise of wealth and immortality draws people in. But reality is far more sinister. Those who sign up, believing they'll be turned into vampires, often end up as nothing more than food storage. They're drained slowly, for months, until they become these ghouls—empty shells driven by hunger, yet still chained to their vampire masters. When someone volunteers to become a familiar, they're subjected to a blood test. If they pass, they're promised entry into the clan. But that's just the start. The chosen ones are injected with a special chemical that slows the progress of the vampire virus in their bodies. This chemical puts them into a deep trance, a zombie that follows the elder wherever they go. This practice allows the vampires to keep them alive and harvest their blood for as long as they want or until they become mindless ghouls."

All this time, I had thought that the young people surrounding Elder Elenore in the Vernara Building were simply servants. I'd witnessed the feeding ritual firsthand and had assumed she conducted it openly as a test, a means to gauge my reaction. My purpose for that visit had been clear—I was there to reclaim my family fortune, not to intervene in their practices. But now, thinking back on it, realizing that those young "servants" would inevitably become vampire ghouls, it left a bitter taste in my mouth. The ways of the Royal Vampires were darker than I'd anticipated.

I clenched my fists, as the memory of that ritual flooded back in my mind. "I witnessed the elder feeding. I remember thinking it was strange. The servant would simply step forward at the slightest tug of a ribbon, tilt his head, and bare his neck for her. Then, as the blood of the servant began to trickle down the neck, I caught the scent of the chemical you mentioned, a foul aroma that made my stomach turn."

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Antolio's rapid hand signals caught Derrick's attention, and he quickly turned to listen. "Excuse me, young master," Derrick said, momentarily shifting his focus to Antolio. He nodded as he deciphered the gestures, then turned back to me. "Yes, that's right, but it's just a rumor we heard while drinking one night. We were at a bar called the Silent Siren, part of the neutral zone in Adams. We met a man there, a deserter from the vampire ranks. He claimed the Scarlet Clan developed a way to control their ghouls using an artifact—a whistle that emits a soothing sound. This artifact is the only means to keep the ghouls from pouring out of the sewers and into the streets of Adams at night. If that's true, it's likely the Scarlet Clan's secret weapon for the coming war."

The pieces were starting to fall into place. If the Scarlet Clan had amassed an army of ghouls, then they have the undeniable advantage in numbers and the element of fear. This army hides under the tunnels beneath Adams Town, a labyrinth that no one dared to venture into. If the culling was imminent, and if the Scarlet Clan had any intention of unleashing that army, it could mean a bloodbath for Adams Town.

I realized that I needed to confirm all these rumors and began to formulate a plan on how to survive an attack on a massive scale against a hungry army of vampire ghouls. We couldn't afford to wait for the vampires to make their move. If there was even a shred of truth to the rumor, I needed to find that whistle—or at the very least, confirm its existence. However, retrieving information like this would require tact and trust, and my options were limited.

I considered reaching out to Dahlia for information. She is well-connected, and if anyone knew the inner workings of the Scarlet Clan, it would be her. But my interactions with her had been unpredictable at best and pressing her for details on something as sensitive as this might only provoke her wrath—or worse, another injury from one of her silver daggers.

Now, I'm left with the vial of essence hidden behind my mother's portrait. It's one of the items that both the vampires and hunters are eager to obtain, yet it doesn't seem to play a direct role in the impending war. This essence could be far more significant than I initially assumed—potentially a key piece in a darker, more sinister plan. My priority now should be finding out what this essence is before I rescue Harold from his captors.

There's also the possibility that Harold encountered hunters searching for the vial inside the house. Realizing their intentions, he may have tried to protect it or prevent them from taking it, which could have led to a confrontation. This suggests that Harold is not only aware of the vial's existence but also understands the conflict surrounding it.

Derrick suddenly stood, slamming his hand down on the map. "We're ready to take action, young master. I suggest we bring in reinforcements and eliminate these hunters responsible for Harold's kidnapping," Derrick said.

"Slow down, Derrick. Charging in with reinforcements won't solve the problem. We're missing crucial information, and until we understand what this essence is, we'll be fighting in the dark. If the werewolf in the cave is indeed Harold, I need him alive. But reversing a full transformation seems impossible."

Antolio caught Derrick's attention with a hand gesture and began to sign rapidly.

"Antolio says there's a way to suppress the beast before the man's life is lost," Derrick said.

Antolio continued to sign, this time more slowly and deliberately, making sure Derrick could relay the full message.

"He knows of a warlock," Derrick translated, "one who can prepare a potion to revert the transformation—but it may only be for a short time."

"That could work. If we can temporarily restore Harold's human form, we can get the information we need from him. It might be our best shot at identifying who's truly behind his kidnapping."

"Even if the potion works and his transformation is temporarily reversed, once he inevitably turns back into the beast, it may mean we'll have no choice but to... dispose of him."

"I'm aware of that possibility. But despite everything I've uncovered about him, I can't shake the feeling that Harold was dragged into this mess, forced into it somehow." I paused, noticing unease in Derick eyes. "You knew from the beginning, didn't you? That he wasn't my father?"

"We did, young master. You are of primal blood, a white werewolf. We knew Harold was not the alpha of the clan, but we were in no position to argue against your word. We are here to serve the Rainhart family and keep Helena's dream alive. Once your quest of finding Harold's kidnapper ends, another issue you will have to deal with is how to control Curtis, and his relentless attacks in the northern part of the forest."

Our conversation was interrupted by a familiar sound—the doorbell echoing through the house. From a distance, I heard Annie's footsteps as she went to answer it.

"Thank you," Annie said, as she closed the front door.

"Let's head upstairs, we have company," I said, walking out of the gathering room.

As we entered the receiving room, Annie approached me, holding a red messenger bag. The bag's emblem—a crest with two gargoyles facing each other—caught Derrick's eye.

"Vampire missives. Those bags are sent with requests for favors."

"Annie, please take this bag to my room. I'll look through it later," I said, handing it back to her. "I anticipated their requests would come eventually. The elder has mentioned unresolved matters between the clans. I want to find that warlock first."

Antolio began to sign rapidly, catching Derrick's attention. "His name is Vantos Orien, young master," Derrick translated. "Antolio says he owns a club on the west side of Adams, but it's notoriously hard to locate."

"I met Vantos earlier, inside the Vernara building. He tried to warn me about the vampires, even hinted that my life was in danger." I reached into my pocket, retrieving the business card Vantos had given me, and handed it to Antolio. "He said I could find him if I used this."

Antolio began to sign, pointing at the compass etched on the back of the card. "This compass isn't just decorative," Derrick relayed. "Antolio says it's the only way to find the Glass Club. You have to follow the direction it indicates. This card is enchanted to guide you there."

"The Glass Club?"

Antolio's hands moved quickly, signing with urgency. Derrick nodded as he translated. "According to Antolio, the Glass Club is not just an ordinary nightclub. It's an infamous establishment hidden in the shadows of Adams Town. More than just a place for entertainment, it's a hub for clandestine deals and dark magic. The exterior appears unremarkable, but the club itself only caters to a highly select clientele—people who deal in secrets, forbidden knowledge, and otherworldly power. Antolio is fortunate to have connections there; he's friends with the warlock who runs it."

"Antolio, Derrick, prepare for a trip to the west side of town. We're paying Vantos a visit tonight. He might also have an idea of what this vial of essence is—and why the elder and Chief Harrow are willing to kill for it."