The winding road led them toward New Salem, a tourist city that seemed to stretch beyond time itself.
The dense trees, their twisted trunks and orange leaves, slowly gave way to a town surrounded by hills and mist.
As they entered, the group quickly realized that, despite looking like an ordinary town, New Salem breathed magic.
Small details betrayed its witchcraft heritage — stained glass with arcane symbols, black cats perched on windowsills, broomstick-shaped signs, and convenience stores selling potion bottles alongside candy.
"It feels like we just stepped into an old fairytale," Roberto muttered, glancing at the moon-and-star decorations on the buildings.
Mandy, lowering her hood, sighed.
"A fairytale? Maybe for you. For me, it's a childhood nightmare."
Kimberly smiled, recognizing her tone.
"Oh, so this is where that person you mentioned lives? The one who can help us?"
Mandy looked away.
"Yeah. But don't expect much… formality."
They stopped in front of a peculiar shop with a crooked golden sign that read:
"Valentine's Arcana – Sweets & Spells."
Bells and crystals hung from the doorframe, and the display window was filled with plush toys, glowing potions, and strange relics. Inside, the shop was silent. The only sound came from the chime of the wind against the amulets.
"Weird…" Tory muttered, frowning.
"I thought I'd feel some kind of presence here, but it's… quiet."
Mandy groaned.
"It's always like this. She loves to make dramatic entrances."
Suddenly, a metallic sound rang out, followed by a puff of lilac smoke — and a woman appeared out of nowhere with a graceful spin.
"BOO! Surprise!"
Valentine — a striking Black woman in her forties with fiery red afro hair, layers of gold jewelry, and a black tank top — held a wand like it was a microphone. Her mischievous grin lit up the entire shop.
"Mandy, my sweet little sugar drop!" she cried, running forward and squeezing her niece into a crushing hug.
"Aunt Val, stop!" Mandy protested, squirming. "I'm not five anymore!"
"Grown-up or not, those cheeks are still adorable!" Val teased, pinching them playfully.
Kimberly laughed.
"Oh, Aunt Candy — you haven't changed a bit."
Val turned, eyes widening.
"Kimmie!" she squealed, immediately dropping Mandy to hug Kimberly next.
"My little trouble hunter! Still chasing monsters, huh?"
"As always," Kim replied with a grin.
"And you're still mixing sugar with sorcery, I see."
"Life's too bitter not to add a little sweetness," Val winked.
Roberto tried to introduce himself, but Val was already eyeing him up and down.
"And who's this handsome mortal?"
"Oh, uh… Roberto," he said awkwardly. "Nice to meet you."
"The pleasure's all mine," Val purred, smiling wickedly. "Want me to read your fortune… or something a little more exciting?"
Tory cleared her throat pointedly.
Val turned to her — and her eyes widened again.
"Oh my, a vampire in Salem? How rare! I could make you a potion to keep your glow eternal, darling."
Tory raised a brow.
"I'll pass. But thanks."
The group sat around a large table covered in grimoires and crystals. Val's expression softened as she took a seat, a black cat leaping gracefully into her lap.
"So…" she began. "You're here because of Karmila — and the Circle of the Night, aren't you?"
Kimberly nodded.
"They're moving again. We've already faced them directly — and every clue points to something much bigger behind all this."
Val ran her hand across an old parchment and unrolled it. Symbols shimmered faintly, revealing the same emblem Kimberly had seen before — a circle, claws intertwined with a black flame.
"This is ancient," she murmured.
"The Circle of the Night was born from the ruins of the old Salem Order, centuries ago. Karmila was one of its founders — one of the brightest and most dangerous witches who ever lived. But she was corrupted."
Resting her chin on her hands, Val's tone darkened.
"She began studying forbidden magic — blending alchemy with necromancy. The Order tried to stop her… but failed. Karmila turned on them, bringing with her a far more dangerous traitor: Drayfus."
The name hung heavy in the air.
"Drayfus believed humanity and monsters were both mistakes of creation," Val continued.
"He said both races were 'staining the world' — and the only way to purify it was to start over."
Tory frowned.
"A typical lunatic with a messiah complex."
Val nodded.
"He and Karmila formed the Circle of the Night with that goal — to harness forbidden power and build a 'new world,' where only the chosen would survive."
Kimberly crossed her arms.
"So if we go after them…"
"…you'll be facing what's left of what the Salem Order fears most," Val finished.
"But if you capture them — and deliver them to the Order for judgment — you'll earn more than recognition. You'll gain the respect of the Council itself."
Mandy sighed, half-grumpy.
"Yeah, but it always ends up being our problem, doesn't it?"
Val smiled fondly, squeezing her niece's hand.
"It always falls to those brave enough to face it, my little sour witch."
Kimberly looked between them, her expression firm.
"Then it's settled. We'll find out where Karmila and Drayfus are hiding — and end the Circle of the Night once and for all."
Valentine flipped through several old pages scattered across the candlelit table, while Kimberly stared at the Circle's symbol, lost in thought.
"Val…" Kim said quietly.
"There's something that still bothers me."
The witch looked up. "What is it, Candy?"
Kim took a deep breath, as if dragging out something that had haunted her for a while.
"When I fought Karmila… she said something strange. She said she knew my family. And she called me… Kramer."
Silence fell instantly. Even Mandy, who had been idly flipping through a grimoire, froze.
"Kramer?" Valentine repeated, her playful tone vanishing. The smile faded from her face.
Kim nodded, confused.
"Yeah. I thought she was just taunting me — or trying to mess with my head. But…"
She lowered her gaze.
"I never knew anything about my mother's family. My parents kept everything hidden. And then… everything went wrong."
Val leaned back, her eyes distant, as if recalling memories buried long ago. For a moment, she looked almost… sad.
"Kramer…" she whispered.
"It's been a long time since I've heard that name."
Tory leaned forward, serious.
"You know it?"
"I do," Val replied softly.
"And it's not just a name. It's… a bloodline."
Kimberly's eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean?"
Val exhaled slowly before speaking.
"Kramer was the surname of the first vampire in existence. The ancestor of every clan. A being both cursed and blessed — carrying the thirst for blood and the burden of guilt. They say he created the first generation… and that his blood still runs in some descendants."
The silence was thick — almost tangible.
Kimberly stood still.
"You're saying that I…"
Before she could finish, Tory spoke, her voice low and filled with a strange respect.
"…that the Kramer Clan was the first vampire lineage. The origin of all."
Kim's eyes widened.
"That… that doesn't make sense. I'm not a vampire."
Val crossed her arms.
"Not completely, maybe. But if Karmila called you by that name, it's because she saw the blood. Ancient magic recognizes what the eyes can't, sweetheart."
Mandy shifted nervously.
"So that means…"
"That Kimberly might be the link between two worlds," Val said gravely.
"The bridge between what once was — and what's yet to come."
Kim swallowed hard, the weight of the revelation pressing down on her.
Tory rested a firm hand on her shoulder.
"If it's true… then you're far more important to this war than you realize."
Kim took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The moonlight streaming through the window brushed across her face — and for a fleeting second, something shimmered in her eyes.
A faint, almost supernatural glow.
Valentine rose to her feet, looking at them with a mix of awe and worry.
"The story of the Kramer bloodline didn't end, Candy. And somehow… fate chose to reopen it — through you."
Kim stood silent, watching the candles flicker, her mind spinning.
For the first time, she felt something far greater moving beneath her existence —
a truth that had always been there, sleeping in her veins.
The wind howled softly, making the candles shiver.
And outside, the full moon loomed — silent, unblinking —
as if destiny itself had begun to stir once more.