"Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!"
The chant rose like a diseased heartbeat, echoing through the underground courtyard.
A place that had once shone with victory, laughter, and the warmth of shared triumph was now collapsing under the weight of hatred. Moments ago her name was celebrated—Sara Venom, the savior.
Now it was twisted into a curse as stones, rage, and betrayal flew at her like arrows.
The air shook with fury.
"Kill her! She caused this!"
"Kill her before more monsters come!"
"KILL HER! KILL HER!"
Sara didn't flinch. She only watched silently as hundreds of eyes—eyes she had protected, saved, fought for—turned on her with the same cruelty she had witnessed centuries ago.
Fiona moved first.
Her teeth clenched, her hand gripping the sword hilt so tightly her knuckles turned white.
In an instant she dashed forward, cutting through the crowd with frightening precision.
Elga followed, then the other two captains.
Their footsteps thundered across the concrete floor, blades drawn.
To the observers, it looked like they were leading the execution.
And maybe Sara thought so too.
She didn't defend herself.
She didn't move.
She didn't even raise a hand.
Because this scene… this betrayal… this blind rage…
It wasn't the first time she had witnessed it.
Her past broke open inside her mind, pulling her back to the day everything ended.
---
Flashback: The Firing Mansion
Flames slowly devoured everything.
The once-grand Venom estate burned violently, the night sky painted orange and black with smoke. Screams echoed from beyond the gates, where villagers, soldiers, and mages gathered—faces twisted with fear and hatred, not too different from the humans now surrounding her in the courtyard.
"Kill them!"
"Burn the monsters!"
"End the vampire curse before it spreads!"
They hurled spells like stones—fireballs, light spears, chains of holy glyphs—all crashing against a shimmering barrier.
Her father stood outside, drenched in blood, hands trembling as he maintained the shield with every drop of strength left in him.
Inside the burning mansion, a small girl clung tightly to her mother.
"Mama… I'm scared…" the little Sara whispered, voice trembling as smoke filled her lungs. "Why do they want to kill us? What did we do?"
Her mother knelt, gently brushing ash from Sara's cheek.
Her voice was soft, painfully calm.
"They're confused, my love…" she whispered. "Your father went out to explain. He will fix everything. Humans just fear what they do not understand."
Sara's small fingers pressed against her mother's dress, trembling.
"But our home… Mama… it's burning…"
Her mother hugged her closer, shielding her from falling embers.
"Homes can be rebuilt. Lives can't. Stay with me. Your papa will come back. Everything will be alright."
But it wasn't.
Outside, the mob only grew more savage—faces distorted by terror, ignorance, and the satisfaction of hunting something they believed was less than human.
"Monsters deserve to die!"
"Kill the vampires before they kill us!"
"SAVE EDEN"
"BURN THEM!"
The barrier flickered.
Her father staggered.
Her world collapsed.
The mansion burned like a dying star.
Walls collapsed, portraits curled into ash, and the familiar hallways of Sara's childhood twisted into smoke and flame.
Inside her room, little Sara clung to her mother's dress, sobbing into the fabric as the heat drew closer from every direction. Her small body trembled with fear she couldn't yet name.
Outside the door, footsteps pounded—fast, uneven, desperate.
The bedroom door burst open.
A shadowed figure staggered inside, leaning against the frame, breath ragged. His butler uniform—once crisp and dignified—was shredded and scorched, smeared with blood.
"M–Mistress…" he managed, gasping. "We… lost."
Sara's mother froze. "What did you say?"
He lifted his head, tears streaking through the ash on his cheeks.
"We lost. Our master… your husband… has fallen by human hands."
Her lips parted in disbelief. Her eyes began to glisten, trembling at the edges.
"How…? How could that happen?" she whispered.
The butler lowered his gaze.
"Hero 89 came with the 100 of Holy Knights. They struck him down while he tried to fight… before he even raised his hands."
Silence crashed onto the room.
Little Sara watched her mother's knees buckle as she let out a broken cry.
Sara didn't understand death, didn't understand war, didn't understand why humans were suddenly enemies—but she understood one thing:
Her father was not coming back.
Her tiny voice cracked as she sobbed along with her mother, their grief blending into one fragile sound.
The butler stood over them, shame twisting his expression.
He had failed the one man who trusted him most.
---
Outside, voices thundered through the smoke.
"There must be more vampires inside!"
"Search every corner! Don't let a single one live!"
"Eden must be protected! Kill them all!"
The stomping grew louder—closer.
Little Sara whimpered, clutching her mother's arm with trembling fingers.
"Mama… I–I'm scared…" she cried, voice barely audible over the crackling flames.
Her mother tightened her hold, forcing her own tears back as she stroked Sara's hair.
"It's alright, my little Sara… Mama will save you. I promise."
But even she knew promises were fragile things.
She reached for a ring on her trembling finger—a silver band with faint golden inscriptions that pulsed with ancient warmth.
The butler's eyes widened in horror.
"M–Mistress! No!" he gasped. "That's the One Wish Ring! You can't—"
Sara's mother stared at the ring, the last piece of hope she possessed.
---
(Note: The One Wish Ring)
A divine artifact capable of granting one wish—but only if the wish is made purely for another's sake.
No greed.
No selfishness.
No desire tied to sin.
A sacrifice of one life… to save another.
Sara's mother closed her eyes, gripping the glowing ring with trembling fingers.
The inscription began to burn with divine light, swirling like liquid gold around her hand.
She took a shaky breath.
"Let my daughter—"
She never finished.
Without warning, a massive obsidian scythe erupted straight from the wooden floor—tearing through stone, carpet, and flesh in one brutal strike.
SHRRAAAK—!!
The blade cleaved through her chest, lifting her bodily off the ground as blood sprayed like a crimson arc across the burning room.
Her scream twisted into something raw and animalistic, echoing against the collapsing walls.
"M–Mistress!!" the butler shouted, sprinting toward her.
He didn't even reach halfway.
A shadow flickered behind him—swift, silent.
CRACK.
His head exploded in a violent burst, blood splattering across the wall as his body crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut.
Sara froze.
Her tiny hands covered her mouth, eyes wide, tears blurring everything.
She hid beneath the bed, darkness swallowing her as firelight flickered through the cracks.
Her heart hammered so loudly she feared they could hear it.
A figure rose from the hole the scythe had split open—tall, twisted, with midnight skin and bone-like horns curling from his skull. His eyes were burning amethyst, swirling with ancient malice.
A Demon Kind.
Not the low-level demons humans used to scare children.
No.
She had seen illustrations in forbidden scriptures:
A warrior from the Silent War era. A race thought extinct.
And now… one stood in her home.
He bowed his head.
"My master," he said in a voice that seemed to vibrate through the room, "the remaining vampires have been found."
Footsteps echoed behind him.
Soft.
Unhurried.
Almost elegant.
Hero 89 entered, his golden armor reflecting the fire. Something hung from his hand—swinging lightly.
Sara recognized the hair first.
Then the face.
Her father.
She didn't scream.
She didn't move.
She just… stopped existing for a moment.
Hero 89 tossed the head aside like trash and spoke with cold, bored clarity:
"Good. Burn the bodies. Purge the bloodline."
The demon's eyes glowed.
"There is one more," he said slowly. "A child. Hiding… beneath us."
Their gazes turned toward the bed.
Sara's heart nearly burst from the terror.
Before the Hero or the Demon could locate Sara, the room suddenly shifted.
The blood spilled across the floor—her mother's, her father's, the butler's—began to tremble.
At first it was quiet… then the droplets lifted, rising like red dust suspended in the air.
A heartbeat later, they shot outward.
For a moment, everything was still—so still that even the Hero and the Demon hesitated.
Then the blood rose.
Tiny droplets lifted into the air like red dust caught in a silent wind. They floated… trembled… and then shot outward with violent force. The droplets turned into deadly projectiles, tearing through furniture, walls, and pillars in rapid bursts. It felt like someone had unleashed a blood-forged machine gun inside the room.
Hero 89's armor lit up, protecting him from the onslaught.
The Demon slipped between the droplets with unnatural speed.
Under the bed, Sara watched with wide, trembling eyes. The world she knew was collapsing, and she could do nothing but hide like a frightened child.
A shadow landed beside the fallen scythe.
Bare feet dragged across the floor.
Sara recognized the figure immediately.
It was her mother.
Saida Venom—the Arch Vampire feared across the continents. The monster of legends who once ruled the Emperor War.
But she didn't look like a legend now.
She looked like a wounded mother desperately fighting to protect her child.
Saida coughed blood, tightening her grip on the scythe. Her wounds were slowly repairing, flesh knitting back together with each shaky breath.
She lifted her head and glared at the two intruders.
"Do not… touch… my daughter."
Her voice was weak, but the killing intent behind it was enough to freeze the air.
Saida reached toward the blood scattered around her. It answered immediately, swirling and rising like liquid smoke. Two shapes began forming—slowly, painfully.
A broad figure.
A refined posture.
Sara's breath caught.
The shapes solidified into two blood puppets.
Her father.
And the family butler.
They stood silently, their forms made of memory and grief. Vampires believed that blood never forgot—every heartbeat, every tear, every moment remained within it. Using those memories, Saida forced their shapes to stand once more.
She whispered to them with a trembling voice.
"Protect… her."
The puppets moved instantly.
Her father lunged at Hero 89, clashing violently against the armored figure who once called himself humanity's protector.
The butler leapt at the Demon, their battle ripping through shadows and crimson.
Saida staggered. She could already hear footsteps outside the collapsing mansion—knights, swordsmen, mages, all rushing toward the noise.
She didn't have long.
Placing her blood-covered hand on the ground, she spoke the words no vampire dared to utter.
"Crimson Abyss… Moving Kraken."
The ground split open.
A monstrous roar echoed through the entire village as massive blood tentacles erupted from the floor, smashing through walls and lifting the mansion into the air. Villagers outside screamed as the crimson limbs towered above the rooftops.
Hero 89 froze in terror as a tentacle wrapped around him and lifted him far above the ground.
"N–No… wait—Saida! Please!" he cried. "I… I lost control! The Demon—he forced me! I didn't want to—please, forgive—"
His voice choked off.
The tentacle tightened.
The Demon tried to flee but was crushed instantly, bones snapping like twigs before he vanished into a burst of dark mist.
Hero 89's scream echoed across the village as the tentacle carried him toward the moonlight. It held him there for a brief, terrifying moment… before crushing him into red mist that rained over the broken mansion.
The villagers, knights, and mages who arrived stood frozen.
They weren't witnessing a battle.
They were witnessing a mother's final wrath.
The Blood Kraken finally collapsed, its enormous tentacles falling apart into pools of trembling, lifeless blood. The two blood puppets—shadows of Sara's father and the old butler—lost their shape as well yet Fatherly figure was searching something. Their bodies dissolved back into crimson mist, signaling what Saida Venom already knew: the life keeping them together had reached its end.
Sara ran forward, tripping over broken stones and shattered wood until she fell at her mother's side. Her hands clutched Saida's leg with desperation.
"Mama… mama, what's happening? I don't understand. Please… say something…"
Saida Venom tried to lift her head, but her breath came out ragged and broken. She had avenged her family, but the cost had shredded her body from the inside. Outside the ruined mansion, the sounds of armored boots, magical chants, and angry shouts grew louder. Knights and mages were gathering. Hunters too. None of them would show mercy.
She knew her time was ending.
Her eyes moved frantically across the ground.
"The ring…," she whispered. "Where is it… my last hope… where…"
Her fingers brushed rubble and broken tiles as she searched with trembling hands. Her voice cracked, not from pain, but from fear—fear of failing her daughter.
Just then, she froze.
A half-melted figure knelt before her. It was the blood puppet shaped from her husband's remains. Despite having no soul, no voice, and no warmth, it was holding something tightly.
The divine ring.
He had not vanished.
He had been searching for it.
He extended the ring toward her.
Saida's breath broke into a sob.
"Honey…" she whispered. " Thank you so much....." she hugged that figure and Whisapper. "Don't worry Honey I'll join you soon. Wait for me… please."
Sara shook her head violently.
"No! Mama, don't say that! Don't leave me—please!"
But deep down she knew.
Someone had to die today.
Someone had to pay the price for protecting her.
Saida gripped the ring and rubbed the gem. Golden cracks of light began spreading from the surface.
"O Divine Ring…" she whispered. "Take my daughter far from here. Take her to a place where she will be safe… where no one can harm her…God, Dragon, Demons, Slient Nightmare, Monsterous no one can exist in that place only her....where she can live… happily…"
"Mama!" Sara screamed. "Mama, don't—!"
Light surged around her, soft and warm, wrapping her in a cocoon. She reached out, desperate to hold her mother one last time, but her fingers passed through the light as if through water.
And then she vanished.
The divine ring had sent her away.
To another world.
A world where she would be untouched by demons.
A world where hunters could not find her.
A world called Earth.
(Present — Courtyard)
The courtyard trembled with voices filled not with fear, but with pure hatred.
"Kill her! She's a monster!"
"Get out of our world!"
"Kill her… kill her… kill her!"
Every scream echoed inside Sara's chest like old wounds being torn open again. The same venom, the same rage, the same blind hatred that destroyed her family long ago. Her breathing grew sharp. Her vision flickered. The world around her twisted into the burning image of her childhood mansion.
She felt her fingers rise slowly.
Just like her mother once did.
Just like Saida Venom, cornered and betrayed, preparing to unleash the Blood Kraken.
Her agency members didn't understand.
The soldiers didn't understand.
Even Sara herself barely understood the storm inside her.
They saw her hand rising and panicked.
Guns cocked.
Fingers tightened on triggers.
Magic circles formed.
Before a single shot could be fired, a roar tore through the entire courtyard.
"STOP RIGHT THERE!"
Elga's voice exploded like a lion challenging the world. The air shook. Even the soldiers froze for a moment, startled by the raw force behind her scream.
It was enough.
A breath of silence opened.
And in that silence, everyone finally noticed what had happened on the stage.
Sara was no longer standing alone.
Her agency members had surrounded her without hesitation. Shields clanged into place. Blades drew out. Staves glowed. They formed a wall around her, as if guarding a precious relic—no, something more important than that.
They were guarding their leader.
Their family.
Fiona stepped forward first, sword dripping with her own tension.
"Chief… sorry for the delay. The Four-Wing Squad has arrived."
Erika Hemut cracked her neck slowly, a cold smile forming across her lips.
"It has been years since I've felt excitement. Finally… a real fight."
Rika tightened her grip on her staff, her knees trembling, but her voice steady.
"I… I'll heal everyone. So please… you must survive. All of you."
Elga slammed her fist together, the sound like stone breaking.
"I've held back for too long," she growled. "But anyone—ANYONE—who points their gun at my mom… is an enemy. You little humans better remember that."
Fiona tapped her blade against the ground and exhaled.
"I don't know what is right or wrong anymore," she said quietly. "But I won't let my only family die today."
Sara froze.
Her raised hand trembled, then slowly lowered.
Her rage, her panic, her despair—all of it evaporated in an instant. A moment ago, she had nearly unleashed a massacre. Not because she wanted to kill anyone, but because she had been drowning in memories, fear, pain, and abandonment.
She hated demons because one killed her mother.
She hated humans because they betrayed her family.
She hated the world because it kept taking from her.
But here…
Right here…
Her people stood for her.
Against the world.
Against their own kind.
Against overwhelming numbers.
Because to them, she was worth protecting.
Sara swallowed slowly. Her eyes warmed, but her heart tightened when the crowd erupted again, louder than ever.
"She's a demon!"
"They are all demons!"
"Destroy the entire Libeus Agency!"
"Erase the monsters!"
Now it wasn't only Sara they wanted dead.
It was everyone who stood with her.
The world agency had declared the Libeus Agency as a demonic organization.
Soldiers raised their weapons not at one person, but at an entire unit.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
This was no longer a standoff.
This was war.
A handful of elite fighters versus thousands.
A small family standing against an entire world.
It was more than just a confrontation.
It was Sparta facing the Persian army.
And the Libeus Agency, outnumbered and outmatched, stood tall anyway—because protecting Sara was worth bleeding for.
The world leaders watched silently from their elevated seats, realizing too late that a line had been crossed. The situation was spiraling beyond control, slipping into something that could no longer be reversed with diplomacy.
The courtyard felt like a battlefield waiting for the first spark.
And when it ignited, everything would burn.
To be continued…