As the morning sun rose above this part of the world, a group of guards walked out of the town's gate as they conversed with themselves. The captain of the gate guards had tasked them with disposing of the bodies of the foulbloods that had attacked them last night.
"Bloody foulbloods! Why were we assigned to this task? The captain should have chosen another squad," complained one guard.
"Well, Boyle, maybe it's because we are the f*cking gate guards," replied another guard.
"Hey, watch your mouth, Boris! You don't want a repeat of last time, do you?"
"Don't you dare do that?" Boris clenched his fist as he moved away from the burly Boyle. Whilst he tried to be subtle about his movement, it was obvious that he found burly Boyle to be intimidating.
The last time he had run his mouth, Boyle gave him a beating he would never forget. It was so awful that he was released from work temporarily.
That day, the captain stumbled upon him but couldn't recognize him as he had gotten an excellent makeup.
Looking at the timid Boris, Boyle chuckled, "Hehehe. What's wrong with you? I was only joking."
"I-I-Whatever." Boris scoffed.
"Boyle, Captain said to get rid of the bodies. He didn't say how or who should get rid of them, right?" Brick, the third gate-guard, interjected.
As he spoke, he directed his stare at the fifth and last member of this squad of gate guards.
After listening to Brick, Boyle thought to himself and reached a conclusion. A sly smile fixed on his face when he replied.
"Good Idea, Brick! Why not let our newbie do the job? It's a good way to initiate him into the squad."
The Hawk Squad was a relatively veteran squad among the gate guards. The original four had been together since the beginning of their service, which was five years ago. So, when they finally got a new member, not all of them were happy.
This newbie named Bibly wasn't deterred by the passive bullying displayed by the squad.
He thought inwardly, 'Works for me. I like burning foulbloods. I could even feed the tough parts to wild beasts. Hehehe.'
He raised no complaint, as the others quickly designated their task to him. They left not long after, laughing amongst themselves at what they did.
'Typical old fools,' sighed Bibly.
He was now all alone.
Well, not exactly. Surrounding him were the corpses of foulbloods, elves, and forsaken howlers.
'Eeeh, there was no report about forsaken howlers. Oh, curse the dark moon!' cringed Bibly. His large body seemingly shrunk back to a small form as he spotted the dead howlers.
Bibly grew up in this cursed town, but he was not ignorant about the rest of the world or, to be specific, the rest of this damned continent!
After the events of the Eternal Night, the Blackening spread wide across the land, corrupting all sorts of magical creatures. Not much was known about the blackening, but most of the creatures that survived the corruption turned to forsaken howlers, vile creatures that became vermin to the living beings of this world.
Poking the face of one of the dead howlers, Bibly took a defensive stance. After making sure that the howler was totally dead, he held onto one of its tails and dragged the corpse to a specific region just outside the town's barrier. It was still morning, so it was safe to wander around as long as it was not too far away.
Bibly went on with his task. He spent an hour moving the corpses that littered the surrounding area to that particular region. One by one.
Soon, he was done. Beads of sweat dripped down his head, but the gate guard's outfit, a light armor outfit with the crest of Cravel's knight force on its chest, absorbed them.
Blood with various hues stained this bronze leather outfit.
Bibly dug into his pocket and found a pouch. The pouch contained an abundance of inflammable sand known as Igris Particles.
Bibly poured the sand on the pile of corpses. He left the area for a second in search of something. When he came back, he brought with him two perfectly carved rocks.
Smashing them against each, the rocks produced a spark that catalyzed a smoke.
"It isn't enough," Bibly hissed.
Just as he was about to repeat his action, he noticed something. Immediately, Bibly fell to his knees in shock.
His eyes quivered as he stared at one particular corpse among the pile of dead bodies.
Not seeing anything wrong with the corpse, Bibly stood up.
'I swear I saw it move. Was I imagining things?' Bibly struggled with the doubt in his head.
After waiting for minutes, a smile finally reached his face, accompanied by a sigh of relief. "Yeah, it's a false alarm. F*cking foulbloods, making me hallucinate!"
Bibly went up to the corpse and slapped its face.
"Stay dead, you piece of trash!" He continued with his violent actions.
Suddenly, the eyelids of this corpse fluttered open, exposing its green iris that was as clear as the moon.
A raspy voice escaped the mouth of this corpse, "Ouch, that hurts, bastard!"
"Kyeaahh!" Bibly screamed as he attempted to run away, but the corpse gripped its arm.
Its grip was so strong that Bibly felt his bones break instantly.
The corpse pulled Bibly closer to it. It snarled as it quickly dug its fangs into his neck. When the corpse sunk its fangs into him, a sensation of weakness overwhelmed him. He became as still as a log of wood. He could feel his body losing its blood. It was draining out of him faster than his stamina limit in the bedroom.
Soon, he became a husk of flesh. His life slowly left him as he fell to the ground.
"Now, that feels refreshing," muttered the corpse.
He looked at the victim of his fangs. With a sad voice, he sighed, "Huh? You are already dead? I didn't even get a name."
Standing, the corpse, also known as Seth, threw the dead human on top of the pile of corpses. He grabbed the two rocks by the side of the pile and clashed them together, providing the spark necessary for igniting a ravenous flame that would devour the pile until there was nothing left.
Looking at the destruction he caused, Seth smiled silently. Suddenly, he remembered something which caused him to jump into the flaming pile.
"Oh, wait! I need his clothes!"
As Seth jumped into the flames, his smile deepened. He was lucky to be a vampire.
Vampires of the Morgen Clan were tough to kill. You could cut their arms, stake their hearts, poison them with "holy water", but they still wouldn't die. The only sure way to kill them was through decapitation or magical means. Even the attacks last night only sent him into a deep sleep.
Of course, it was not that exaggerated.
If he hadn't re-energized himself with the blood of Boris, he would have kept on sleeping. Seth awoke when he smelled Boris' human scent. An hour longer and he would lose his ability to wake up.