"It's good to see you again, Vantos. I'm glad you're still in one piece," I said, watching the small black frog leap off his shoulder and begin wandering around the room. "If it wasn't for Titus, we could've been trapped here for a long time."

Vantos smirked, his eyes following the frog as it hopped lazily across the floor. "Titus is actually in a bit of an engorged state at the moment," he said. "That little frog you see is just a tiny extension of him—a sentinel summoned when Titus senses a threat to my domain."

I leaned forward, noticing the unusual swell in the frog's belly, its yellow abdomen pulsated as though something inside it was trying to break free. "What exactly does the frog have in its belly? It looks like it's moving."

Vantos knelt down and gently scooped the frog from the ground, placing it in the palm of his hand. The creature croaked lazily, as its swollen belly continued to ripple. "Ah, that would be one of the enforcers who attacked my club," Vantos said, almost amused. "When Titus unleashes his demon form, an army of these little cuties is born. Each of them can do what Titus does—just on a smaller scale, of course. But the true beauty of these sentinels lies in their unique ability. You see, they can swallow an entire person whole and keep them imprisoned inside until Titus decides what to do with them. Maybe he'll feed on them. Maybe he'll keep them alive for a rainy day. I'll never know with him. He is a bit emotionally unstable."

"And what happens if he doesn't 'consume' them right away?"

"Even if Titus doesn't physically devour them, he can still siphon their life force through his sentinels. The longer they're inside, the more life he drains from them—sustaining his power and growing stronger by the second. What you saw Titus doing at your estate was just the tip of the iceberg. His true abilities are much nastier than you've witnessed."

Vantos's eyes narrowed, his gaze filled with disgust as he stared at the enforcer trapped inside the frog's bloated belly. "The fire at the abandoned building wasn't an accident, it was set by a band of idiots working under Chief Harrow. Unfortunately for them, they crossed paths with the wrong demon." He glanced at the frog and scoffed slightly. "Let's just say Titus gave them a reason to regret it."

The lingering scent of smoke and charred wood irritated my eyes, making breathing harder. I coughed lightly and waved a hand to clear the air around me. "Is there a place where we can talk without being suffocated by the residual smoke in the air?"

"Absolutely," Vantos said. "Follow me to the old office building in the back of the warehouse, we can talk there."

As Vantos took a quick glance around the room, his gaze suddenly sharpened, landing on Gerald. He stopped in his tracks and strode toward him, scrutinizing him from head to toe. Gerald tensed under the intensity of the stare but remained silent. Vantos narrowed his eyes as though considering something important, then abruptly turned on his heel and continued toward the gate.

He paused again at the threshold, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. "Are you guys coming?"

Outside, the fire that had once consumed the abandoned warehouse had mostly died down, leaving behind the charred remains of wooden beams and scorched metal. The path through the storm sewer gate led us into an open area behind the warehouse, where scattered embers flickered weakly in the dying light.

Then I saw something that made me stop immediately.

Looming in front of the old office building was a massive, grotesque version of Titus. His enormous, hulking body sprawled across the ground, emitting a low rumbling noise that sounded eerily like snoring. His form had changed dramatically from the smaller sentinel frog I'd seen earlier. His skin was covered in pulsating, thin, spike-like protrusions that stretched from his head and back. Two curved horns, sharp and menacing, jutted from his skull, giving him an almost demonic appearance. From the tips of the spikes, a yellowish, viscous substance oozed slowly, pooling on the ground beneath him.

"Is... is that Titus?" Derrick asked.

"That's his true form," Vantos said, stepping beside me. "Titus doesn't reveal this side of himself often. He's been conserving his energy, only showing this form when the threat is serious enough to warrant it. Right now, he's slumbering, slowly feeding on the enforcers trapped inside his belly."

I glanced at the grotesque, transparent bulge of Titus's stomach, where faint shadows of limbs and bodies were barely visible. There was no sign of movement, indicating that most of those enforcers were already dead. "Are you going to persuade Titus to spit them out?" I asked.

Vantos tapped a finger against his lips, pretending to ponder. "Nope," he said with a smirk. "What I will do is deliver all these corpses to the hunters' estate. I'll drop them right on Chief Harrow's front lawn as a little reminder not to mess with me again."

"That's... a pretty bold move."

"It has nothing to do with being bold," Vantos said, his grin widening slightly as a dangerous gleam lit up his eyes. "It's about sending a message. Next time, if Harrow tries to pull another stunt, I'll unleash all of my familiars on the hunters' estate. Every single one of them. Imagine a horde of little Titus sentinels crawling through every corridor, swallowing everything in their path. Gaston will have his share of the fun, scorching everything in his way without leaving much behind. And once Lutia finds out what Chief Harrow attempted, she'll be more than happy to send some of them straight to the most remote parts of the void. Even though she hates fighting, she knows when it's necessary."

Vantos's grin lingered for a moment longer before it faded. Then, he exhaled sharply. "Though I'll admit, it does sound like fun," he said. "The effort to pull something like that off would drain my life force almost immediately. And if I'm not careful, I could end up in Azamara about eight hundred years ahead of schedule. That's a trip I'm not ready to take just yet."

He sighed, then walked toward the door of an old office nestled behind the abandoned warehouse. The building looked like it hadn't been touched in years—its windows were cracked, and its wooden door creaked as the wind pressed against it. "Well, there's nothing better than pipe dreaming," Vantos said, snapping his fingers mid-step. "Chief Harrow could use a painful spank for being a pain in my ass."

A faint shimmer rippled through the air around us as an energy barrier formed, encasing the area in an invisible shield. "Just in case of another fire," Vantos said, with a smirk that didn't quite hide his lingering concern. "It'll conceal us from any unwanted eyes, and if something ignites again, it'll give us enough time to get out."

With that, he pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit interior. Dust coated the floor, and the smell of damp wood and mildew came from every direction of the room. The old office wasn't much to look at—its walls were lined with sagging shelves, and an ancient desk sat near the corner, covered in papers that had yellowed with age.

"It's not what I'm used to, but it'll do for now. I'll make this work until I can relocate my domain to a safer location. Now, let's hear it from the young master. What's the reason for your visit?"

As we settled inside the old office building, something caught my eye—one of Titus' sentinels hopping silently across the floor. It stopped right in front of Gerald, pausing for just a moment before its small body began to swell.

Its mouth stretched wide, revealing rows of tiny, needle-like teeth before it lunged forward, swallowing Gerald whole in a single bite. Gerald let out a muffled yell as the sentinel shrank back to its normal size, its yellowish belly bulging and writhing as Gerald struggled inside.

Vantos scooped the small frog from the floor and held it in the palm of his hand, his eyes watching Gerald's futile efforts with detached amusement. I had expected something like this would happen, especially after noticing the way Vantos had glared at Gerald back in the secret room.

"I apologize, young master. But this werewolf has some unfinished business to answer for. I promise I won't let Titus kill him. I just want to rough him up a little—to remind him of the consequences of his actions."

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "He's already told me what he did under the influence of the Siren's Kiss drink you serve at the club. He also said he regrets it, Vantos. He was honest with me about it. You're welcome to read my mind if you think I'm lying. His behavior was expected, given the enchanting effects of that drink."

I knew what I had said wasn't the complete truth—Gerald may have been influenced, but he wasn't entirely blameless either. Still, we couldn't afford infighting, not now.

"I don't need to read your mind, young master. I have complete confidence in your words," Vantos said with a faint smile. He closed his eyes and held the frog gently in his hands. "Release him."

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A few moments passed in silence, but Vantos's expression quickly changed to one of frustration. His grip tightened slightly as he spoke again, irritated. "Titus... you're being a glutton. No, you cannot save him for later. The young master will not be happy if you kill one of his servants."

As if in protest, the frog suddenly leaped from Vantos's hand and swelled rapidly before violently exploding in a burst of yellowish goo. Gerald reappeared on the floor, drenched in the viscous slime and completely immobilized. His face twisted in discomfort as he tried to move, but Titus's saliva had a numbing effect that left him lying helplessly on the floor.

Vantos sighed, then shook his head. "Like I told you before," he said with an amused chuckle, "Titus seems to like you better than me—his own master. You should consider taking over his contract. He can be quite handy in... hairy situations."

"I'll pass, thank you," I said, glancing down at Gerald, who groaned weakly. "But since you're so keen on sharing, do you mind getting all this slimy saliva off him? I don't feel like carrying him around town like this."

"Ah, of course," Vantos said, kneeling beside Gerald. He hovered his hand over Gerald's body, and a faint glow began to emanate, gradually evaporating the thick layer of Titus's saliva. The mist that formed around him had a strange, pungent smell, but it quickly dissipated into the air.

"There," Vantos said with a smirk. "All clean. Well... mostly."

Gerald groaned as he began to move, shaking off the stiffness. He staggered slightly before finally standing upright. "I thought I'd never have to experience that again... but I was wrong," he said, stretching his arms with a wince. "Having that slime all over you is not something you can ever get used to."

Gerald glanced at Vantos, then lowered his head. "I'm sorry for the way I behaved toward Jeanine. I honestly didn't know she was one of your wives."

Vantos chuckled. "Let's call it even. Jeanine wasn't exactly the model of loyalty. She was... difficult. Always demanding too much attention, and I'm a very busy man. It didn't take long for her to lose patience."

"What happened to her?"

"She ended up running off with some vampire warlord. Thought he was more exciting, I suppose. Unfortunately for her, he had a very different definition of companionship. She became part of his food supply before she realized the mistake she made."

Gerald winced. "That's... grim."

"Retracing steps from our past lives is not the reason we're here, right, young master?" Vantos said, turning to face me. "Now that our differences are set aside, I'm ready to hear why you've chosen to visit me at this time of the night."

I exhaled, bracing myself for what I was about to say. "I need your help with something very important. Annie isn't doing well. A few nights ago, I bit her and began the process of turning her into a werewolf. But the fever... it's consuming her. She's weak, Vantos. I'm afraid she won't make it to the next full moon."

He began pacing back and forth in front of me, his fingers tapping lightly against the sleeve of his coat. "A few nights ago, you said. The red moon was faint, but its influence upon your kind is very powerful, even in a lesser phase. That might explain why she hasn't recovered. The transformation could be fighting against her natural human resilience instead of merging with it. I'll have to visit her and take a quick look at her blood. The curse of the Demon Wolf is not something to take lightly. If she's not strong enough, it could consume her, twist her mind, or worse—kill her. And even if she survives, she won't be the same."

Vantos sighed, crossing his arms. "I have to warn you, the cost of helping her survive the bite will be steep, physically and emotionally. You'll need to make difficult choices. And of course," he added with a smirk, "a tip for your favorite handy warlock wouldn't hurt either."

"Name your price, Vantos. If you can help Annie, this is your chance to get whatever you want from me."

"Are you seriously offering me a portion of your blood?" he asked, almost as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You know the power that flows through you now. The curse of the Demon Wolf. A drop of that blood isn't just valuable—it's dangerous. You're putting a lot on the table."

"I know, and I don't care. I have to help her, no matter the cost. Be mindful that I will not drain myself completely to appease you in a deal."

"That's perfectly reasonable, young master. So, I hear you're willing to part with two pints of your blood, for my services?"

I frowned. "That's not going to happen. We just had a little playtime with one of the ghouls in the sewer tunnels. It took most of my energy to deal with it, even if it wasn't me who delivered the killing blow."

Vantos's eyes sharpened at my comment, narrowing like a predator circling its prey. "If it wasn't you, then who? Those ghouls are nearly impossible to kill at this time of night unless you've got something—or someone—exceptional with you."

"I'm sorry, but I made a promise. I won't speak her name, even though you probably already know who I'm talking about. Let's just say the fact that she carried an extra dagger—one capable of killing the ghoul instantly—was as much of a surprise to me as it would be to you."

Vantos began pacing around the room again, tapping his fingers against his chin. "An extra weapon, you say? I assume it wasn't an ordinary weapon, then. What did it look like?"

"The weapon's blade gleamed with glyphs and had a crystal on the cross-guard, similar to the one you used to summon your familiar, Gaston. It had an eerie glow when it pierced the ghoul's chest. The creature turned to stone almost immediately, crumbling like dust right after. I've never seen anything like it."

"Eclipsion," he whispered, almost to himself. "They've found it."

He turned to me, eyes wide with urgency. "You must understand, young master—the weapon you're referring to, Eclipsion, is not just any enchanted weapon. It was specifically designed to kill beings of dark origin—vampire ghouls, demons, even warlocks. And I should know, because I'm the reason that weapon was forged."

"Wait... you had it made?"

Vantos nodded. "A century ago, when the Scarlet Clan began preparing for war, I worked closely with the master smith of Azamara. Eclipsion and its twin, Luminara, were meant to be contingency weapons—just in case the war spiraled out of control. We intended them to be used against beings like me if necessary. Luminara's power is the opposite of Eclipsion's. While Eclipsion destroys by siphoning and consuming dark energy, Luminara purifies. With just a touch of its blade, it can cleanse and restore life force, undoing curses and other dark influences. For vampires, it's even more terrifying—it can nullify the elder's gifts, temporarily rendering them mortal. It prevents them from regenerating lost limbs, weakens their abilities, and makes them vulnerable to death from simple mundane wounds."

Vantos leaned back into an old chair, his gaze distant, as he placed a hand on his chin. "Elder Elenore Sahelian feared Luminara's power. She believed the weapon threatened the very foundation of her control over the clan and other vampire leaders. Elenore confronted the Warlock Trade clan, threatening them with dissolution and permanent expulsion from Adams Town unless something was done."

"Grandmaster Talos Windsor negotiated a treaty with Elenore. The terms allowed her to take custody of Luminara, while the Trade clan kept Eclipsion sealed away in an undisclosed location. Both weapons became part of a delicate truce, ensuring neither side could fully dominate the other. But then, a few decades ago, Luminara was stolen. Around the same time, Eclipsion disappeared. I assumed both had been lost forever... until now. Knowing that Dahlia has one of the twin daggers is good news. At least, I know she won't be using it against me."

"Dahlia had Eclipsion, given to her by Mathis, the leader of the Keepers of the sanctuary. She had also disclosed that Mathis was an ally of yours. But from what you've told me; it sounds like she didn't even know the full story. She did mention Luminara and the power that comes with it, but only what it could do to a vampire elder."

"I haven't heard of Mathis in a long time. But what drives my curiosity, is that before both weapons were sealed away, the Ethran crystals embedded within them had been drained of their power. To restore Eclipsion's enchantments, it would require a highly skilled warlock in the dark arts—someone capable of feeding the crystal with dark energy until its full potential was unlocked again. And I can assure you," his eyes narrowed slightly, "that warlock wasn't me."

"Does that mean that a weapon like Eclipsion will only have its enchantments until the dark energy is depleted?"

"Exactly," Vantos said with a nod. "Both Eclipsion and Luminara were created with a built-in failsafe for that very reason. The enchantments only last as long as their respective crystals are charged. Once the dark energy in Eclipsion is depleted, it's nothing more than a sharp piece of metal—still deadly in its own right but lacking its unique destructive magic."

"And Luminara works the same way?"

"Yes, though its crystal absorbs and channels purifying energy instead of dark energy. Both weapons were designed to be controllable. That way, if they ever fell into the wrong hands, their power wouldn't last forever."

Vantos began to move his hand in the air, summoning a strange cage, that appeared next to him. "I'm afraid the time for the history lesson it's over. Let's finish this deal and tend to the survival of the first Luna wolf."

"I couldn't agree with you more."

Inside the cage, a strange creature rested peacefully. It had the body of a serpent with shimmering, feathered wings and a sting at the end of its tail concealed by long feathers. The creature's presence exuded a subtle but unsettling energy.

"Meet Morgoth, one of my pets," Vantos said, holding the cage up for me to see. The delicate bars shimmered faintly under the dim light as the creature inside stirred softly. "She’s not a familiar but possesses similar abilities. Once Morgoth awakens, she will prey on and attach herself to the first being she sees and feed, draining blood until she falls asleep again. The sting at the end of her tail acts as her storage—right now, as you can see, it’s nearly empty."

I leaned closer, studying the creature as her wings twitched faintly. Her scales glistened like polished obsidian, reflecting hints of crimson and violet as she shifted slightly. The way her body coiled inside the cage was both mesmerizing and unnerving. "You have a strange knack for collecting unique creatures, don’t you?"

"Am I that easy to read?" Vantos chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "For your information, she originates from the Ethran plains—a remote and dangerous place even for beings like me. Morgoth is considered rare, even among her kind. In her natural habitat, she wakes only to hunt. She can stay in a hibernation state for months, sometimes years, if her sting is full. But when she wakes, she’s relentless. Once she finds a victim, she drains their blood and fills her sting until it reaches its limit. Only then, she detaches and fall into another long sleep."

"So... that means I have to let that thing bite me?"

"Indeed," Vantos said. "She doesn't bite per se. Do not fret, young master—you won't die. Morgoth is the only magical creature capable of withstanding the properties of your blood. Demon blood is... unique. Needles, enchanted or not, simply melt on contact. Dissection is useless. And even if you could physically contain it, your blood maintains a temperature of over 180 degrees, far too hot for any mundane container."

"So, this creature is my only option to safely extract it?" I asked.

"Exactly. Once she drains a sufficient amount, the blood will be stored within her sting. I'll use that blood to fulfill your part of the deal. But you'll need to endure the process. She's efficient, but not exactly gentle."