The siege was still raging.
Pairs of glowing red eyes darted through the shadows like starving beasts. They ran on all fours, hugging the ground like wild animals—not much faster than a warhorse, but their overwhelming numbers and bloodlust made them terrifying. These were Sub-tier Vampires—the lowest class in the immortal hierarchy. Mindless, soulless, driven only by survival and bloodlust. Yet even they were nightmares for mankind. Savage, ravenous, and beyond count, they surged forward like a black tidal wave, ready to consume all.
"ARCHERS! READY!!" a shout echoed from atop the walls, followed by the twang of hundreds of drawn bowstrings. Gleaming silver arrows were aimed toward the blood-red sky. "FIRE!!"
A storm of arrows rained down, tearing into the Vampire horde. Chests, necks, and skulls were pierced. They twitched like broken marionettes, then combusted into flames, disintegrating to ash. But they didn't stop. The ones behind stepped over the fallen and climbed. They used corpses as shields, clawed at stone, and scaled the walls like monstrous ants. Sharp claws tore at the stone, fangs bared in bestial screeches.
The wall—once thought impenetrable—was now crawling with Sub-tier Vampires. Blood, ash, fire, and screams blended into a symphony of the apocalypse.
Behind the walls, giant siege engines launched more than stones—they hurled silver bombs, specially crafted to fight Vampires.
BOOM!
Each explosion tore through the horde and unleashed silver particles into the air. A shimmering dust cloud spread across the battlefield.
The Sub-tier Vampires convulsed. Their bodies foamed, igniting from within. Those who inhaled the silver dust screamed in agony, clawing at their throats, eyes bulging as they burned from the inside out.
Simultaneously, mages raised their staffs and began chanting.
"Fire Ball!"
Massive fireballs erupted in the air and rained down, incinerating swarms of climbing Vampires.
But… this was only the beginning.
These Sub-tiers weren't the real threat. The true monsters were still waiting.
There was no hope.
Just when humans thought they had a chance, a black blur ripped through the arrow rain.
A Vampire leaped—using corpses as launchpads. He dug his claws into the stone and surged up with insane speed.
He had wild platinum hair, disheveled, and a look of utter madness in his glowing eyes—eyes that craved death.
Archers shifted aim. Silver bolts flew.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
He dodged them all. One step—sidestep. Two steps—duck. Three steps—he spun midair, weaving through arrows like a phantom.
In a blink, he landed on the battlement.
A nearby mage gasped, too slow to chant.
"GRÁC!"
The Vampire tore out his throat barehanded. Blood erupted like a geyser. The silver armor didn't help—he was simply too fast.
Soldiers nearby panicked, raising their swords.
But before they could react…
"SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!"
With one swing, three warriors were ripped in half. Blood flew like rain.
"JACK THE BUTCHER!!!"
The Vampires below howled in ecstasy. His name—Jack the Butcher—echoed across the battlefield like a nightmare.
And true to the name, he was a mad beast.
Nearby soldiers didn't dare advance. Some ran. Others froze in place.
The human defense… began to crumble.
Those still standing knew—if this wall fell, there would be no safety left in the world.
They weren't fighting for themselves. They fought for family, for humanity's survival.
"KILL THEM!!!"
Silver blades gleamed. Spears thrust. Fireballs kept flying.
Lesser Vampires screamed as their hearts were pierced, heads severed, bodies turned to ash. They were dying.
But… this was the apocalypse. And the apocalypse doesn't grant miracles.
No matter how hard humanity fought, truth was cruel.
The weak would die. The strong would rule.
And they weren't just facing Sub-tier Vampires anymore.
BOOM!!!
A massive shockwave shook the wall. A towering shadow landed atop it.
Jack the Butcher stood there, hair flying, eyes ablaze with bloodlust.
And he wasn't alone.
Behind him, dozens of Commander-tier Vampires emerged.
They weren't savage beasts. They wore black armor, eyes razor-sharp, moving with deadly grace.
They were the Empire's real warriors. Each wielded a unique power—some enhanced physically, others wielding terrifying spells.
They didn't roar. They advanced in silence—and then, they slaughtered.
Human soldiers were torn apart like rag dolls.
Mages were impaled before they could chant.
Arrows struck—but couldn't kill them. Some pulled the shafts from their hearts and kept fighting.
Commander-tier Vampires possessed immense regeneration, speed… and special powers. Humanity's odds were almost zero.
The sun? It was gone… replaced by the ever-bleeding sky—*Red Sky.*
The human frontline collapsed piece by piece.
But even in despair, they didn't give up.
They fought to their last breath.
These weren't just blood-sucking monsters—they were an empire. A species that sowed the seeds of humanity's doom.
And so…
Welcome to the Post-Apocalypse.