The night air was cold and sharp, carrying the weight of silence broken only by the clash of steel.
Above, two pale moons hung like watchful eyes over the desolate clearing where three vampires fought under their haunting glow.
Ashiq staggered back, his breath misting in the frigid air as he felt the sudden bite of a blade sinking into his flesh.
Why? he thought, the question ringing hollow in his mind, more bitter than the pain in his body.
"I won't stop until you both become stronger!" Elfreda's voice cracked through the night, fierce and trembling. Her crimson eyes blazed like twin fires in the gloom.
"Elfreda," Klein's voice was steady, but his brows were furrowed with genuine concern as he stood beside Ashiq. "Can't you be more understanding? Our brother can't even use most of his powers right now."
"This is why I'm doing this!" she snapped back, her words laced with frustration and something softer—fear.
Her eyes wavered, glossed with the threat of tears. "If you both die… I have nothing. That's why I'll force you to grow stronger, even if you end up hating me for it."
The words struck Ashiq deeper than her blade had. In his short and brutal life, no one had ever cared for him enough to hurt him in order to protect him.
Without warning, Elfreda lunged forward. Ashiq froze, unable to dodge in time, bracing himself for the blow—
—but the pain never came.
When he opened his eyes, Klein stood between them, his sword catching Elfreda's strike.
"Stop this," Klein said quietly, his voice low and calm. There was no anger in it, only the steady certainty of an older brother who understood her better than she understood herself.
"I can't… I won't…" Her voice broke as she pushed forward again, tears spilling freely now. "I won't let you both die!"
Her movements were relentless, her strikes a blur of desperation and skill. Even as Ashiq and Klein parried and dodged, Ashiq could feel her anguish pressing on them harder than her blade.
Why… why does it feel like I'm always the one causing trouble for everyone? Ashiq's thoughts drifted—not to the fight before him, but to the memories he had seen days before.
They had been younger then—children—standing in the middle of chaos.
Their home burned behind them, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood. Vampires slaughtered one another in the streets; the screams were endless.
"Children, you need to go!" A beautiful woman with crimson eyes called out to them, her voice urgent, her face pale but composed.
"Mother, come with us!" A younger Elfreda clung desperately to her.
The woman—Lila—hesitated only a moment before she turned to her sons.
"Vlad, Klein… look after your sister. Find a place you can call your own. Find someone you truly love and be happy. That's all I ask of you." She gathered them into a final, fierce embrace.
"Mother, please don't go!" the young Vlad pleaded, holding her tightly as if he could anchor her there.
She didn't answer him—she couldn't. She looked instead at Klein, her eldest, and in his tear-brimmed eyes she saw the image of her husband.
"Klein… take care of your siblings."
And then the bats came. A great swirling storm of wings and shadows engulfed them, whisking them away in an instant.
When the magic dispersed, the children were gone, and Lila was running through the smoldering ruins of her home. She burst into the main hall and froze.
Varien—her husband—was on his knees, his body bloodied.
"Varien!" She caught him before he could collapse.
"Lila… are the children safe?" His voice was strained.
"Yes," she whispered, though her eyes were wet with grief.
"Well," came a cold, mocking voice. An elder vampire stepped forward, his noble garb pristine despite the carnage. "It seems you lower breeds are just about dealt with."
"You did all this just because one of the noble vampires bred with a demon?" Varien snarled.
"Lower-blood vampires have given us enough trouble," another elder sneered. "We no longer need half or mixed bloods. Only pure-bloods will be accepted from now on."
"You think you can decide that?" Varien roared.
"You should've been with us, Varien. Did your father's legacy mean nothing to you?"
Their words twisted deeper, each more venomous than the last. But when one elder mentioned their children, promising they'd be next, something inside Varien snapped.
"Don't you dare—"
He didn't finish. A blade of dragon bone pierced his chest, and the fight left his body.
Lila's world went still. Then… it broke.
Her eyes turned black, her midnight hair bleaching white in a surge of impossible power. The ground trembled, the air screamed. Across the Moonlight Continent, every creature felt it—the arrival of something ancient and terrible.
The elders attacked, but she didn't need to move. Those who drew near were erased from existence, their bodies collapsing into nothing under the weight of her presence.
Only one remained, trembling.
"You… you're—" He choked as blood boiled in his veins.
"Lilariana Vampiria," she said, her voice low and deadly.
He tried to speak, but his body burst apart in a wet spray before the words left his mouth.
She was at Varien's side in a blink, gathering him into her arms.
"Darling, if only I—"
"You don't need to say it. It's fine." He smiled faintly, though his life was slipping away.
"You don't have to die with me. Be with our children. Live, even if I'm not there."
"Without you… my life has no meaning." She shook her head, tears falling freely. "Our children will be fine. I've already asked him to watch over them."
Varien's eyes dimmed. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. I couldn't keep my promise 9,000 years ago… but this time, I will. No matter how many times you die, I'll be with you."
Light began to envelop them both.
"I love you, Lila."
"I love you too, my darling."
They kissed one last time before vanishing in a burst of radiance.
Behind them, the entire vampire territory burned.
From a distance, Klein, Vlad, Elfreda, and a handful of survivors watched the inferno consume everything.
"What now?" Elfreda asked softly.
Klein and Vlad exchanged a look. Earlier, while fading, Lila's voice had touched their minds one last time.
"Go to the Sunlight Continent. There is a powerful being who will help you. Tell him… Lilariana Vampiria is your mother. Be happy…"
Klein's answer was simple. "We're going to the Sunlight Continent."
Meanwhile, Ashiq stood apart, trembling.
"Why… why… why…"
His mind conjured memories from another life—a life where his father's fists and his mother's cold disgust were all he knew. No matter how hard he tried—scholarships, obedience, sacrifice—he had never been anything more than a nuisance to them.
Why couldn't I have had a family like this?
Tears streaked his face before he realized they were falling. Elfreda and Klein looked at him in shock.
"See? You're pushing him too hard," Klein said sharply. "He barely remembers anything, and now you're—"
"I was just—" Elfreda's voice faltered, guilt creeping in.
"It's fine," Ashiq interrupted.
Both siblings turned to him, surprised.
"She's right. I can't use all my power, so I'll train."
"Are you sure?" Klein asked, still concerned.
"I won't die. I'll… try to be happy with my life, so I won't worry Mother."
The statement left them speechless for a moment.
"That better be a promise," Elfreda said at last, a faint smile breaking through.
"It is."
And so, under the light of two moons, the three vampires continued their training.
Far away, in the Demon King's castle, Byron received an unexpected guest.
"Caleb, is something the matter?" Byron asked without looking up from his paperwork.
"Well, Your Majesty…" Caleb hesitated, shifting uncomfortably.
"Speak. Why are you here?"
"The dwarves who've been helping my village… they wish to take residence in the southern territory of the Twilight Territory."
Byron arched a brow. "Dwarves? I have no problem with that. Wait—you said they helped your village? How?"
Caleb straightened. "They handled the infrastructure, built our homes, and—since we had adventurers—they forged high-quality weapons so we could hunt the monsters nearby."
Byron frowned. "All monsters outside the Twilight Territory are SS-rank at least. From what you told me, your twelve adventurers range from C to A-rank, with maybe two reaching S-rank by year's end. How could they slay SS-rank beasts?"
"Your Majesty," Caleb said gravely, "these dwarves don't just forge weapons. They forge magic weapons—Holy, Demonic, Cursed, and more. They once worked for the Empire, forced to make World-Class and God-Class artifacts. They fled, and the Empire hunts them relentlessly. They're the last who know how to forge such power."
Byron's eyes narrowed. "Tell me everything—where they are, how they escaped, every detail."
"Yes, Your Majesty."