Gangs were symbols of power within Nefaria, vicious amalgamations of vampires who ruled over the lessers with callous authority. They pillaged and plundered as they pleased, robbing the people of whatever they had to satiate their own avarice. All were masked under the odious visage of monthly tribute, death being the ultimate toll for disobedience.
Hearing the brewing rivalry that existed between the Abyssal Gang and the neighboring town, Ezekiel's thoughts began to wonder as he imagined the possibilities.
'The Devil's Flames, huh? I guess whatever power they got for themselves over there isn't enough now. For some reason, it sounds like they're thinking of expanding. But still, wouldn't news such as this upset the order of things? A gang from the lowest tier of society suddenly rising in power, how would the higher-ups react to this? If they would even react at all, for that matter.
'They might simply label it as vermin fighting and killing each other. Even if one man manages to unite the whole of the West under his banner, those living in the North and Central might not even bat an eye. It wouldn't be like the vampires were trespassing on their territory. Unless the gangs decided to try something against the royals, they were safe from annihilation,' Ezekiel's thoughts paused as he witnessed Raphael standing just a few inches away from him.
"First, we'll have to see just where you stand on the scales of power," he heard the latter's words, his mijd returning to what transpired during their last altercation. It was a miracle he was even conscious and standing at this point in time, according to what was stated by that voice in his head. He shuddered as he imagined a repeat of what happened, beads of sweat falling down his eyebrows as teeth chattered frantically.
"Don't be so scared now. I'm not the one you'll be facing," Raphael clarified, observing the rapid shift in the boy's demeanor. "You will fight against our weakest member. Through the battle, we will see just how much you're worth to the gang currently, and know what needs to be improved moving forward," he explained, briefly reminiscing his past of training under The Dark Kings.
It was long, brutal, and vile. Not once did he return from training without bearing deep scars and bloodshot eyes. Each time, he was forced to fight against the best of the best, honing his skills through years of desperate combat in a bid to remain alive. Still, with deep resolve, he pushed forward, overcoming all those obstacles and becoming the tyrant he was now.
Presently, it was his turn to oversee the training of another brash seed.
"Follow my lead," Raphael stated, walking past Darion and Ezekiel as he left the chambers. The latter quickly followed, not wishing to remain any longer in the room with the former.
Eventually, their journey took them back to the outer compound.
The guard's bowed their heads as Raphael passed, their words raising in unison as they greeted their Leader. Ezekiel noticed that the guards didn't go this far when Darion appeared. Perhaps it was only something reserved for the one at the very top.
Raphael stood at the centre of the outer space, eyes scanning his guards for a certain face.
"Len, come," he spoke, the words loud enough for all to hear.
The next second, a guard with a scrawny build shuffled forward, eyes welling with fright as he bowed his head deeply.
"You called, sir," Len said, sweat dripping from his face seconds after being summoned.
"Indeed. As you can see, this boy right here is our newest member, and I was hoping to get to know just how much he is capable of," Raphael replied, slightly tilting his head. "Hmm… I didn't quite get your name, though," he scratch d his head, humming to himself.
Ezekiel quickly bowed, as well, his words coming out as quickly as he could force them.
"My name is Ezekiel Stormwing, sir," he said in a single breath.
"Stormwing… the wings of storms, otherwise interpreted as the wings of change. What an interesting name," Raphael commented, tapping his chin. "Surely, you shall bring forth an increase in fortune to my gang. Your desire for change will crush all those who rise against me, that, I am willing to bet on," he claimed, clenching his fist.
"Now, both of you, show me why you are members of the Abyssal Gang. Show me your power!" Raphael declared, stepping back to allow them space to clash.
Seconds came and went.
Len and Ezeikel stared at each other, neither uttering a single word. Ezekiel could see it in the guard's eyes, the fear he held for his superior. Blood magic sparked around his arms, and the next moment, he sprang forth, covering the distance between them.
Ezekiel swiftly raised his arms in a cross shape, taking the brunt of the attack. Although he could've dodged, this battle wasn't just about showcasing how good he was at evading. Raphael was interested in something else—the power he possessed. His ability to endure and overpower his opponent.
'Should I really use that power?' He asked himself, raising his right leg to kick his opponent at the side of the head. However, Len was quick to react, drawing back before shooting in for another attack. 'This guy, he's fast, but the way he moves, he's basically telling me what he's going to do next. If only he was as fast as those like Raphael, it would've given me much more trouble.
'Still, I'm not sure if I should go all out. What if it complicates things for me?' Ezekiel's movements were sharp, dodging every attack the guard threw at him. His blood magic was modest, allowing him to coat his arms faintly with the red glow.
Whenever the attacks struck, Ezekiel was pushed back, oxygen knocked out from his lungs. The hits were powerful, but he had experienced far worse on a handful of occasions. He quickly steadied himself, twisting his torso to avoid a jab to the chest.
'If I show what I can do, it will only lead to more questions. Raphael will ask about the nature of my powers, and if he's not satisfied with the answer I give him, he might press me for more. And I know he wouldn't simply ask me to elaborate. He'll torture me, break me to pieces, all to get whatever sliver of information he wants,' Ezekiel delivered a blow of his own, the fist missing Len by inches as he swiftly dodged, delivering a kick to Ezekiel's ribs.
The blow was dreadful, forcing his body to curve inward as he spat out blood. His trail of thoughts had caused him dearly, and now, a series of hefty blows decorated him from top to bottom. Len's movements were unrelenting, fast, and crushing. Bones quaked as pain spread all over Ezekiel's body, teeth painted red as he spout out blood.
Raphael remained at the sidelines, observing the fight with a stoic expression. It seemed he had no interest in interfering with the course of the fight, his feet tapping the ground repeatedly as he nodded slowly.
'Curses. If I do do something quick… I might just end up loosing everything before I even get started. I can't throw my life away. Not here, not now!' Ezekiel ducked at a punch came flying to the side of his head. Len readjusted, bringing his leg to strike him from below. Ezekiel rolled on the ground, avoiding the stomp as it struck solid rock, an orange glow surrounding his arms and eyes.
"Oh? What is this?" Raphael asked, interest piqued. "This isn't the vampire aura I'm familiar with. What could it be?" His eyes widened as he watched the youngster jump back to his feet, the fierce look returning to his eyes as he sprang forward, swiping his hand in the air. A line of orange energy shot out, fast and bright, striking the ground where Len once stood.
Jumping into the air, his eyebrows twitched as he descended with a spinning kick, his steps missing completely as Ezekiel easily dodged. Then, while Len was still gathering himself, Ezekiel struck him in the chest, gathering all his power into a single point as the pain spawned into the latter's heart, spreading all throughout his body in seconds.
Len coughed out blood, but he wasn't yet done.
His hands curled into fists, channeling what little malum he had left within his cells. He struck Ezekiel in the throat, causing him to spit out more blood as gasped for air. Then, he opened his mouth wide, biting into the very same place he struck and holding on tight.
Ezekiel screamed, but he bore through the pain. His arms clocked back, and they struck Len in the chest repeatedly. Each blow resounded across the tenebrous compound, the guards watching with baited breaths as the fight dragged on.