Lucas's curiosity was piqued as he asked Kleir the inquiry, his eyes shining with wonder. "Didn't the vampires drink blood? Human blood?"
Kleir, a fountain of wisdom, eagerly responded. "Indeed, yes. The vampires once indulged in the crimson nectar of human blood. They dealt in the lives of people deemed inferior, especially the Grecia tribe—humans who had fallen from grace after being beaten in a long and bitter war by their own kind. Isn't this fascinating? The myriad ways which humans find to degrade their own kind."
However, as he spoke, a tint of sadness crept into Kleir's voice, his tone laced with a wistful melancholy. "But everything changed. Everything came to an end on the fateful 13th of October, 1312."
Lucas' face furrowed in confusion as he delved more, seeking clarification. "What exactly happened?"
The depiction on the big levitating screen changed seamlessly, displaying glimpses of Nepith in chaos.
[ 13TH OCT 1312 ]
The public gasped in surprise as they saw the billowing murky cloud and a giant figure suspended high above in the heavens.
The person, dressed in regal robes, functioned as the Architect's messenger.
Then a deep, authoritative voice boomed over the land. "Those who defy the gods will not go unpunished. Vampires and demons will henceforth bear the Veil of Frailty as punishment for their blasphemy. The oppressed humans, on the other hand, who have long suffered under their tyranny, will be rewarded with authority. May they strike vengeance on those who ignore the powerful Zaneas."
A devastating curse befell the vampires, formerly a race of invincible force and superhuman prowess.
The Veil of Frailty descended unexpectedly, cruelly draining their vitality and leaving them helpless.
It was a crushing blow that reduced the vampires to mere shadows of their former selves.
The curse presented itself as an unexpected and inexplicable loss of physical and supernatural skills.
The vampires were weakened, their previously unrivalled strength waning, their agility blunted, and their link to the nighttime forces severed.
It was as though their essence had been drained, leaving them vulnerable to their human counterparts.
The vampires got weaker with each passing day until the inevitable happened: the Crimsonheart Empire fell.
***
A false sense of security pervaded the region. Many people felt that, despite the vampires' dwindling powers and humans' growing might, there would be no mass killing of the vampire and demon races.
After all, the vampires outmatched the elves and a variety of other races. However, humanity's unquenchable greed and wicked heart would quickly shatter such illusions.
[ 18TH MARCH 1314 ]
A vampiric village woman strolled through the picturesque streets with her child, the sun creating lengthy shadows on their way.
Cries and the deafening racing of hooves broke the silence. Tremors shook the ground, setting the stage for oncoming disaster.
They initially mistook it for a seismic wave or an earthquake.
However, when the dust fell, a horde of troops clad in knightly garb and wearing a white cape imprinted with a red-dyed cross inside a circle pounced on them. Their long swords held high in the sky.
The troops yelled with fanatical zeal, their voices carrying the words that would engulf the region in terror: "Death to the blasphemous!"
"Nooo!" screamed the woman as she and her kid were severed. The entire scenery was covered in blood.
A tidal wave of anarchy overtook the towns and cities, destroying everything in its path.
The aristocracy, especially vampires with more influence and authority, became attractive targets. Their families, symbols of their power, were cruelly shattered.
Despite the destruction, a ray of optimism appeared. The royal houses, dukes, and marquises—the vampire society's stalwarts—banded together to preserve their beleaguered kin.
Sacrifices were made, and even the lord of the vampires, thought to be the mightiest even after the curse, gave up his life to cast a desperate teleportation spell that whisked the remaining species away to a lonely island, a refuge surrounded by hazardous waters.
The human soldiers, numbering a staggering 210,000, left no stone unturned in their quest to eradicate all traces of vampire existence.
Women and children, the innocent caught in the crossfire, were subjected to terrible experiments and brutal atrocities, suffering fates too gruesome to comprehend.
The defeated high-ranking nobles, once formidable in their own right, met their dreadful fate as the sun sank on the crimson-stained battlefield.
They were bound by iron and sent to the cruel flames, their agonised howls piercing the night within human land. It was barbaric to burn those at the stake.
Among the devastation, humans snatched valuable artefacts, pilfering relics of the vampire's once-glorying past.
As the hefty explanation sunk in, stillness descended, leaving a silent pause in its wake.
Lucas, on the other hand, couldn't stand the silence any longer and broke it with his curious voice. "But wasn't there anyone, at all, who could find a cure for the curse?"
Kleir reacted with a glimmer of a grin on his lips, his eyes displaying a mix of insight and hope. "The curse was a tether to one's very life essence, an affliction that could not be undone until death claimed its rightful place. However, it appears that the modern era has discovered means to break the curse's hold. You shall learn more of this upon your return from the enigmatic depths of this space."
Lucas kept on, propelled by his insatiable curiosity. "Surely, they sought assistance from dragons, elves, or any other race willing to help?"
Kleir let out a big sigh and placed a hand tenderly over his heart, his face filled with sadness and longing. "They've turned their backs on us, Lucas. The humans, emboldened by their newfound power, terrified even the most haughty dragons, who clung to survival as their primary purpose. The elves, eternally aloof, were never drawn into the wars that afflicted our kind."
"And what of the demons?" Lucas continued.
Kleir turned away, his eyes filled with sorrow, and began to walk slowly, his voice bearing a haunting weight.
"My precious Lucas, not everything can be revealed in a single breath. Our time together is coming to an end."
The enigmatic figure came to a halt, casting a sidelong glance over his shoulder, his gaze piercing and purposeful. "The decision is now yours, Lucas. Will you take on this task?"
Lucas dived into the depths of concentration, his mind swirling with thoughts and feelings.
-
Can I truly undertake this task? But perhaps within it lies a fragment of something invaluable.
The chance to experience the enchantment of magic itself!
What's the problem? The worst that can affect me is death!
-
Lucas swallowed hard and shouted into the distance, his voice filled with determination. "I-I will do it!"
Kleir swung around, his delight clear in his voice, yet his comments had a sinister undertone. "Ah, Lucas, my intuition was correct! You are truly someone to be admired. I almost wish you were female!"
Lucas' face twisted in disdain, his reaction tinged with annoyance. "Enough of your odd remarks. What comes next?"
Kleir's countenance changed considerably, and his tone became more theatrical. "Oh, Lucas, you've lowered my spirits! Nonetheless, your spirit will be sent to the location of my death—the Scarlet Forest, which was once a prosperous vampire area!"
"Alright, then?" Lucas inquired, his words tinged with frustration.
"As you travel there, you will discover the mysteries that lie within. But keep in mind that it may take some time for your recollections of our chat to resurface fully. For a while, you may be perplexed. Don't worry, my knight will be there to protect you while you are still unaware of the situation," Kleir said, his voice a blend of assurance and mystery.
.Lucas grimaced and expressed his displeasure, slightly irritated. "This sounds like a lot of trouble. "How am I supposed to get there?"
Kleir's face lit up as he snapped his fingers and bent deeply, his creepy grin focused upon Lucas's. "I wish you a safe journey, though you may feel sick. Please don't hate me, dear test subject."
"What are-Oiii?!"
>Crack!
The air crackled with anticipation as Lucas approached Kleir. A swirling vortex appeared behind him, getting larger and stronger by the second.
Its dark energy twitched at his clothes, drawing him inexorably closer.
Lucas's eyes widened in fear, but before he could respond, a violent force grabbed his body and dragged him hopelessly into the growing abyss.
His fingers urgently clutched at the air, looking for something to hold onto. But it was pointless.
The black hole's relentless pull overpowered him, its voracious appetite devouring everything in its path.
Lucas' feet lifted off the ground, and he was drawn into the swirling abyss, his body twisting and contorting as though caught in a chaos vortex.
His surroundings were hazy, and the world spun in a swirl of darkness and uncertainty.
Kleir's figure faded into the distance, his frightening smile becoming a distant memory, his form evaporating like smoke.
As the stormy ride led him into the unknown, Lucas felt his consciousness fading away, engulfed by nothingness.
[Return: Present time]