The Nar realm was a realm where the rule of the jungle reigned supreme. Survival of the fittest was a mantra engraved into the minds of every creature born long before they even knew their name. Here, being weak meant servitude. Being weak meant slavery. Being weak meant death.
As such, clans made use of any and all means within their arsenals to train their descents so that they had the strength to retain or raise the position of their clans and make sure that they would not fall down the ranks, leading them into a doomed future.
As the literal meaning of the name Nar, which translates to hell, the realm embodied the essence of all that was vile, evil, wicked, crooked, and twisted both in nature, appearance, character, and ability.
Therefore, even the environment was one of gloom and doom, with raging flames and erupting volcanos on every corner of the realm.
Anyone cursed to burn in hell for eternity, would be akin to being cursed to burn in the Nar realm for eternity. And it was for an eternity they burned. For all creatures in this realm were blessed with everlasting life, a longer lifespan, or immortality in some way or the other.
At this current moment, the entire Nar realm was in the midst of preparing for an ancient ritual of blood bath that included all creatures and species of the realm, regardless of their status and or position.
For it was through this ancient ritual that new clans surfaced while old clans fell into the dust, being forgotten within the river of time.
It was through this ancient ritual that new species came into power while old species turned to slaves. And it was through this ritual that prey and predator were determined.
This was the beginning of the Battle of Wars.
The Battle of Wars encompassed the Battle of Might, the Battle of Wit, the Battle of Courage, the Battle of Ranks, and the Battle of Kings, in which every creature, small or big, weak or strong, took part in at different levels to represent their clan to earn the chance to rise above the food chain.
As of the moment, the six supreme clans were at the top of the food chain, the rest of the remaining clans serving as their servants, slaves, and or food.
Through the Battle of Wars, not only would a clan's power be reassessed as a whole, but even the power of the kings leading those clans would be reevaluated in front of the entire populous of the Nar realm. This was a form of displaying absolute dominance over the rest of the races.
Through the Battle of Wars, any slave clan can rise to power and any clan in power can fall into slavery.
However, rarely was there an occasion where a slave clan rose to power, as it was often harder to stand back up once falling than it was to rise higher once-rising.
Those who fell would no longer have access to resources to strengthen themselves while those who rose would keep on rising, with the additional resources they receive.
As such, the Battle of Wars became a sort of contest between the six supreme clans who desired to surpass one another and become the ultimate clan whose rule reverberated throughout the entire Nar realm.
And the beginning of this decade's Battle of Wars was about to start within 15 days of time.
In the western reaches of the Nar realm, an area covered in smoke and dark flames, the Vampire City stood bleakly and coldly amidst the mountains of black rocks emitting black and red smudgy fume, the dark flames covering the dull red sky above.
In the elder's hall of the city, a group of vampire elders were panicking as they anxiously paced back and forth with anxiety from the mounting feeding source issue.
Because the problem was not solved at the root of its cause, the moment the new suggestion brought up by Luke failed to bear fruit, it popped out again.
This time with even more clarity and desperation than before.
"Luke, what are we going to do now? The scouting and hunting groups have been camping out in the Werewolf clan's scavenging locations, but there was no result. The teams have not spotted even a single wolf since the last ambush launched by you." The white-haired elder impatiently said.
"As far as I can see, I would say that they might have caught onto our plan of preying on them?" A thin elder said.
"That is impossible! How could they have caught on so quickly? We have not even been able to feed properly once. How could they catch on so quickly?" The old man resignedly sat down in his seat as his face crumbled.
"Yes. How are we going to feed the clan now? The Werewolf clan does not seem to be an option anymore."
"What will we do?"
"How are we going to resolve these crises?"
"Do not forget, the Battle of Might is only 15 days ahead. If we do not feed soon, our clan will be too weak to even watch the competition let alone participate and keep our position." The old elder added gloomily.
As more and more voices of fear and insecurity sounded out, the restlessness among the group of elders grew.
"Enough. This is not the time to be losing our calm. As the first elder said, we are getting weaker and weaker as more and more time passes. And with the Battle of Might taking place in 15 days, we would be dead before we could even strike." Luke spoke in a calm manner as he observed the elders.
"And seeing the Werewolves absent from their scavenging trips, we can be certain that they have caught onto our intention to prey on them. This means that we have to find another source of feeding before the competition starts.
Not only that, we have to be sure that our new feeding source will not be weaker in any way to the Werewolf clan, or it would not be of any use to us. Any suggestions on which clan to prey on?" Luke silently watched as the elders looked at each other for suggestions before turning back to him with blank looks.
Sighing softly, he faced the elders with a serious expression on his face.
"Since we can no longer prey on the Werewolf clan, as the only clan that comes close to matching them in fortune, we will prey on the Snake clan." Luke declared in a cold tone, his pale-blue eyes flashing with light as the image of a flame hair serpentine appeared in his mind.