( Dark Faction - The mercenary kings camp )
In the grand war tent situated in the heart of the mercenaries' camp, a sombre air hung heavy. The usual bustle of activity was replaced by a tense silence, only punctuated by the crackle of the fire at the centre of the tent. War maps, meticulously marked, were strewn across the large oak table in the centre, but nobody paid them any heed. Their attention was riveted on a single scroll, the contents of which had just been read aloud.
The scout's voice trembled slightly as he read, "War God Matumba has fallen in the battle against the Twilight and Bloodfall clans. His legion has been routed and his body that was burnt to a crisp has been given a proper burial with all honours as per the mercenary code. The fatal blow in his final fight was dealt by...Lord Ravan of Bloodfall Clan." His voice echoed ominously around the room, settling heavy on the hearts of those present.
Matumba, fourth disciple of the Mercenary King Avans, had not just been defeated, but killed. The shock of the news was palpable in the room, as the grim reality of the situation began to sink in. Matumba, the stalwart war god, a figure of renown, had been slain by a relatively unknown god.
Seated in the high-backed chair at the end of the table, Mercenary King Avans remained silent, his stern face unreadable. The only hint of his inner turmoil was the tightly clenched fist on the table, the knuckles turning white with strain. His formidable presence seemed to intensify, casting a chilling shadow over the tent.
"Matumba...fallen..." Avans' voice, though soft, filled the room with a tangible aura of fury and frustration. He had nurtured Matumba, seen him grow from a brash youngster into a mighty war god. And now, he was no more.
A heavy silence followed his words, none daring to speak. It was finally broken by a deep, growling voice.
"I will avenge my fallen brother." Gurdan, a towering figure, stepped forward. His muscular form was accentuated by his tiger-beastman features, his golden eyes glowing fiercely. He was a tier6 god, one of the elder disciples of Avans, and a brother figure to Matumba.
Avans turned his gaze towards Gurdan, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of approval. There was no need for a lengthy discussion or persuasion. The King knew well of the bond between his disciples. Gurdan's conviction was all the assurance he needed.
"Very well, Gurdan," he said, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. "Avenge Matumba. But remember, we seek the orb. Let that be your priority."
A look of determination settled over Gurdan's face as he nodded. "Understood, master."
The atmosphere in the room remained tense as Gurdan left, the air almost sizzling with the brewing storm of revenge. As the news of Matumba's death spread, the camp descended into an even deeper gloom. A sense of unease crept into every corner, whispers of fear and anticipation winding through the ranks.
The Mercenary King's camp, once a beacon of power and confidence, now held an air of uncertainty, as the defeated members of Matumba's legion who had fled for their lives shamefully rejoined their colleagues. An event that forced the mercenaries to realise the harsh reality of this war.
But beneath it all, a burning resolve was taking shape - a resolve to avenge fallen comrades, to reclaim their honour, and to destroy the orb that had cost them so dearly. The storm was coming, and with it, a reckoning like none other.
*************
( Meanwhile Regus )
Regus read the report about how the Bloodfall clan came to the rescue of the Twilight clan and helped them repel a formidable mercenary horde as he smiled and nodded for the first time in a long time.
Only in the vampire society there was a bond which made clans that would usually be on competitive odds with each other band together under duress.
Vega and Julian were also examples of this, as both the gods and their clans hated each other to the bone yet when there was a need for them to put their differences aside and band together they did it without questions or hesitation.
To nurture such a society as it's king was something Regus was proud of as he knew it was only possible because he governed it with a just set of laws where despite different bloodlines and clans existing, everyone coexisted peacefully under the banner of being a vampire.
Regus was also happy with how Ravan was proving his worth in recent times as with this event he even felt like the boy had entered his good side.
Yes he was arrogant and brash with a lot of ambition but he was a valuable asset to keep around.
Once the war was over he needed to reassess his evaluation of the boy it seemed, perhaps his youngest son was right to rope him in as his ally.
Maybe the Aurelius clan did not necessarily need to be at odds with the Bloodfall clan.
" The mercenaries have suffered a big loss, they should be vulnerable to a counter-attack, get some clan to target the orb that Matumba was supposed to protect" Regus said as a servant hearing his orders silently from the corner nodded before disappearing without a trace.
" The mercenaries will not stay quiet after one of Avan's disciples is killed- Inform the twilight and Bloodfall clans to be on the alert. Provide them with reinforcements if need be, I think there will be a pushback against them soon " Regus said as another servant silently noted the order and disappeared from the room.
" From an unknown tier3 warrior who joined the Titus clan to the leader of Bloodfall clan and a warrior who can kill one of Avan's direct disciples, your rise is abruptly fast Ravan.
After all this is over, I'll need to get a better look into you- " Regus said with a sigh as he completed all the administrative work for the day.
**********
( Meanwhile Asiva )
Asiva stood in the centre of the ritual room, her heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of the old world. The chamber was packed with an array of ancient artefacts, each playing a critical role in the bloodline awakening. Candlelight flickered upon age-old scrolls and glass vials filled with rare ingredients, casting long, dancing shadows upon the stone walls.
Parchments, penned in ancient scripts that were described in the book given to her by Severus and written by the earliest Nightblades, detailed the meticulous process of the bloodline awakening. The ritual was demanding, both physically and mentally, but she was prepared to embrace its challenges. The key ingredients for the ritual were strewn across the stone table, their vibrant hues glinting under the candlelight.
Dragon's root, a plant known for its potent magical properties, would serve as the catalyst for her transformation. It would be ground into a fine powder and mixed with her blood, forming a ritualistic paste. Rare moonstones from the moon orbiting Ixtal itself were to be placed in a perfect circle around her, their lunar energy acting as a conduit between Asiva and the goddess Luna herself.
The final ingredient, her own Nightblade blood, was the symbol of her lineage, the very essence that carried her dormant powers.
Among all of these, the most crucial component was the Lunar Tear, a gem said to be formed from the tears of Luna herself, symbolising her sorrow over the struggle of her beloved Nightblades. This divine artefact, believed to embody the essence of the Moon Goddess, would be the key to unlocking her dormant powers.
Obtaining the Lunar Tear was no small feat.
She had never heard about it even existing, yet when she approached Jathi about the project to buy one of these from the market, she was shocked to know that the Velter clan possessed one in their royal vault.
After a bout of negotiations with the Velter clan and a heavy price of 2 Billion gold coins, she managed to buy the artefact.
She did feel a little guilty for using state budget for personal reasons but she was sure that Max would understand, also she intended to earn and payback the money to state overtime.
Emotions surged within her like a raging sea. She was fear-stricken yet resolved, excited yet aware of the gravity of her actions.
The knowledge she had gained about her lineage was a heavy burden, but it also ignited a flame of determination within her. Her ancestors had endured, survived, and she was the living proof of their defiance. She was ready to awaken her bloodline, to embrace her heritage fully, and to wield the power it promised.
Closing her eyes, Asiva took a deep breath, the cool air filling her lungs. Her fingers gingerly touched the Lunar Tear, its cool surface pulsating with an ethereal energy. She could feel the anticipation humming in the room, the air thick with the promise of revelation.
With the Lunar Tear pressed against her chest, she made a small incision in her palm, allowing a bead of her dark crimson blood to fall onto the Dragon's root powder. As her blood seeped into the mixture, the red paste began to evaporate with a sizzling noise from coming into contact with the outside air, the fumes being an intoxicating smell that made Asiva hiss with bloodlust.
The ritual had begun. The bloodline awakening was underway, setting in motion a series of events that would irrevocably change her life and perhaps, the future of the Nightblade clan.