"Let's head into the office so we can discuss the situation properly."
The hallway leading to the conference room echoed with steady footsteps. The walls, lined with digital panels and old-world mahogany, hummed faintly with power. Once inside the chamber, the heavy doors closed with a soft thud, sealing the room from the outside world like a vault. No ears. No leaks. Just the storm that had finally arrived.
The man in the deep violet cloak still hadn't spoken a word since stepping into the building. He was a specter in the room, silent and unmoving, eyes veiled beneath a fringe of silver-blue hair. His presence alone dropped the temperature a few degrees.
Across from him, seated with casual arrogance, was Almond Evercrest—the infamous Guild Leader of the Evercrest Guild. His white hair shimmered beneath the overhead lights like powdered snow. His lips, a shade redder than blood, curled into a knowing smirk as he lounged in the chair, one boot lazily tapping against the table's edge.
"So now we can talk," Almond said, finally.
His voice was crisp. Unrushed. But what he said next struck like a blade.
"As I'm speaking to you now, an army of vampires is on its way to Japan."
The atmosphere shifted instantly. Even the digital lights on the walls seemed to flicker in response.
"They're not just your average rogue bloodsuckers. Leading them is a Dracula—a true ancient. Over a thousand years old. The kind that once leveled nations during the Forgotten Wars."
No one interrupted. Not even the Association Leader, who stood by the far table with a data-slate clenched in his hand.
"They made an announcement. A demand. They claim we have one of their royals—a princess. They want her returned in three days or the truce is over."
Almond reached into his coat and tossed a small holoprojector onto the center table. With a flicker, it projected the image of a girl. Hooded. Pale-skinned. But distinctly human.
"According to the intel we received from a Vampire Knight who defected, this is her. But she doesn't fit any profile of a vampire. No aura. No curse. No bloodline traits. Nothing."
He tapped the image.
"What we do know is her scent was last traced to the western wildlands of Seoul. That puts Korea in the spotlight. Whether we like it or not, the vampires believe she's here. And they're willing to go to war over it."
He leaned back, folding his arms behind his head.
"I'm here not just on behalf of Japan, but every nation still standing. We need to find her. Every guild must prepare. I wouldn't be surprised if other vampire units are already mobilizing toward other countries."
He stood, and for a moment, the laid-back demeanor slipped away, replaced by something colder.
"This isn't just politics anymore. It's survival."
The Association Leader finally spoke. "So that's why you came to Korea?"
"Partly," Almond nodded. "The other reason is my friend here." He jerked his thumb toward the silent figure. "Ronald Moonfrost."
The room quieted further.
Ronald. The leader of the Moonfrost Guild. A man whose name was etched into international war archives and guild legends. No one knew the full extent of his abilities. Only that when he moved, continents trembled.
Still, he said nothing.
Almond rolled his eyes and clapped his hands together. "My old, stubborn friend refuses to join the others in Japan. So I came here personally to knock some sense into him."
He turned toward Ronald, who remained frozen, staring at the floor.
"Oohhh, come on, Ronald," Almond said, now slightly exasperated. "This is not the time to be a damn statue. Don't do this."
Silence.
Almond sighed again. Then smirked. "Alright. How about this: three nights. Just you and me. Call of Duty Mobile. Winner picks dinner."
A pause.
Ronald blinked slowly.
"Make it four," he muttered.
Almond snapped his fingers. "Done. Now get your frozen ass up. Japan's about to get turned into a vampire blood farm if we don't move fast."
Ronald stood.
He didn't speak again. But the shift in the room was unmistakable. His movement alone sent ripples of killing intent through the air—so sharp that even the Association Leader stumbled back a step.
He tried to cover the reaction with a nervous laugh, but the pressure lingered.
Dozens of unseen eyes flickered in the dark corners of the room. Familiar. Guild agents. Hidden guards. Observers. But none dared breathe too loudly.
Almond cracked his neck. "Get your teams moving. Sweep the western wildlands. Leave no cave, ruin, or shadow unchecked. And warn the rookies if the vampires get here before we do, there won't be any second chances."
The Association Leader nodded quickly, already reaching for the city speaker.
Behind him, two legends stood side by side. Ice and fire. Silence and storm.
And somewhere in the wildlands, the scent of war had just begun to stir.
Meanwhile Azrael was oblivious to the stir in korea rather, he was busy farming Exp from the goblins found . Drake keeping up with Azrael seems to grow with every creature it killed going further, they found a large hall filled with machines and smelled like iron blood was plastered everywhere and drake was more shocked, than Azrael it seemed like here was a experiment hall and Azrael understood which people was made here.
Going deeper into the dim corridor, their footsteps echoed against the stone. The scent of blood thickened with every step. Then they saw her.
Or rather what remained of her.
A girl young, barely older than twenty lay crumpled against the wall, her body ravaged by countless slashes. Flesh hung from bone in places. Blood had soaked the floor beneath her, forming a pool that shimmered darkly under the flickering light. Her breathing was shallow, wheezing. And yet… even in that broken state, her beauty lingered faint traces of golden eyes, high cheekbones, and soft features not even death had the power to erase.
Drake's eyes widened. "What the hell… Azrael, what do we do?"
Azrael didn't respond. He stepped forward, cautious, eyes scanning the shadows. The girl didn't move much only her eyes shifted, golden pupils dull but aware. Time was slipping through her fingers like sand. She didn't have long.
Azrael crouched low, keeping his voice steady. "Who did this to you?" he asked. "Was it the vampire? Is he nearby?"
The girl's gaze locked onto his. Her eyes didn't blink, didn't waver. It was as though she was staring directly into Azrael's soul. Slowly, with a trembling hand, she motioned for him to come closer.
Azrael hesitated.
"…Be careful," Drake muttered behind him.
But Azrael, perhaps out of pity, perhaps curiosity or maybe arrogance leaned in.
And then A sharp sting was felt in his neck. Like fire lancing through his throat.
Azrael's instincts took over. He roared and slammed his fist into her gut with terrifying force.
Blood sprayed from her mouth. The girl choked violently, her body folding over as more crimson splattered across the stone floor.
Azrael stumbled backward, hand gripping his neck. "Shit!"
His vision blurred for a moment. He could feel something something foreign trying to enter his system. A venom, a curse, or worse.
Then came the sound. Wet steps slapping against the ground.
A figure emerged from the shadows.
Clad in blood. Draped in it. Not just clothes soaked but as though blood itself was his armor.
The figure was tall. Inhuman. Eyes glowing like embers buried deep in a corpse. The air grew cold around him.
Drake took one look and screamed, "What the actual fuck are we gonna do?!"
Azrael didn't answer. His heart thundered. His breath caught. Every instinct screamed at him to run but he stood frozen, locked in the vampire's gaze.
The girl's broken body twitched.
And the vampire smiled.
Azrael clenched his teeth, willing his body to move but then it hit.
A surge of agony, deep and all-consuming, tore through him like invisible chains snapping his bones apart from the inside.
"Gggh !" Azrael gasped, collapsing to his knees. His hands dug into the blood-soaked ground, trembling violently. His vision shattered into fragments like a broken mirror reflecting pain.
It felt as if his insides were twisting, burning, unraveling.
The venom. The girl. The bite.
"No… not now " he choked out, but his throat was raw, his breath shallow. It felt like the world was folding in on itself.
Drake's eyes went wide. "Azrael!"
Behind him, the blood-clad figure stepped forward, slow and deliberate, every movement radiating hunger and dominance.
Drake's panic turned into raw instinct. He spun around and shouted, "ALL OF YOU! ATTACK HIM! NOW!"
From the shadows behind them, Drake's squad burst into action mercenaries and allies who had been hanging back, waiting.
Flashes of steel.
Bursts of elemental energy.
A spear imbued with lightning shot forward, striking the vampire dead in the chest.
A fireball roared across the tunnel, exploding in a burst of searing heat.
Bullets flew special silver rounds, enchanted rounds slamming into the figure's body.
And yet… he didn't fall.
The vampire staggered slightly, charred, bleeding. Then he looked up.
Grinning.
The wounds began to knit. The bullets were pushed out. The flames hissed into smoke.
Drake gritted his teeth. "No way…"
He turned to Azrael, kneeling beside him. Azrael's skin was pale, his veins darkening as if ink flowed through them.
"Breathe, dammit! Don't die on me now!" Drake shouted, shaking him.
Azrael looked up with bloodshot eyes, pain distorting every word. "He's… not just a vampire… He's something else…"
The vampire raised a single hand.
The air shifted.
Something ancient… awakened.
And the slaughter was just beginning.