The graveyard lay silent, cloaked in an oppressive stillness that seemed to weigh down the air. Tombstones stretched endlessly in all directions, worn by time, as if the earth itself had long forgotten the names they once bore. In the midst of this eerie stillness, the Dragon Squad stood, their eyes wide with horror as they realized that one of their own—Yi, the mage—was missing.
"Where the hell is Yi?" Brian's voice, though steady, betrayed a growing sense of dread. His eyes scanned the desolate expanse of the graveyard, searching for any trace of their lost comrade.
"Heh, looks like we've got ourselves some trouble," Charles muttered with a sarcastic grin, though the unease in his voice was unmistakable. He fingered the hilt of his sword nervously, as though expecting danger to leap from the shadows at any moment.
"We can't afford to lose anyone else. Everyone, gather up and stay close," Brian commanded, his voice resolute. The squad instinctively huddled together, weapons drawn, senses heightened. They knew now that whatever had taken Yi could strike again.
For a moment, all was quiet. But then, as if in response to their fear, strange noises began to echo through the graveyard, shattering the uneasy calm. The sounds seemed to emanate from the ground itself—low, grotesque scrapes, like nails on stone, accompanied by the soft rustling of disturbed earth.
As if in answer, the earth around the graves began to crack and shift. Slowly, something began to emerge from the ground—skeletal hands, rotting limbs, and hollow-eyed faces. Zombies, their once-human forms twisted by death, began to claw their way out of the soil. Their flesh hung loosely from their bones, their eyes void of life but brimming with a malevolent hunger.
The squad braced themselves, their weapons raised, ready for battle. But before they could act, a deafening explosion rocked the graveyard. Two massive stone monuments in the distance shattered, sending debris flying in all directions. The roar of the impact reverberated through the ground, and from the dust and smoke emerged two figures that made even the undead seem trivial by comparison.
The tension in the air was palpable. The graveyard itself seemed to hold its breath, as if awaiting the inevitable clash of powers. Brian and the rest of the squad exchanged nervous glances, knowing they were caught between forces far beyond their comprehension.
Before the squad could react to the new threat, the ground beneath their feet began to shift once again, and from the mist that had crept in, strange screams echoed in the distance. The fog grew thicker, wrapping around them like a living shroud, obscuring their vision entirely.
"Everyone, stay together!" Brian's voice rang out, but it was lost in the murky air. The fog distorted everything—sound, sight, and even space itself.
In the final area, as the group advanced less than a mile, a dense fog rolled in, a formless veil that completely obscured their vision, preventing them from seeing each other. Within this thick fog, the only sounds heard were the screams and shouts of the White Team, distant yet chillingly close, sending shivers down their spines.
Mike and Lindsay could only rely on sound to gauge their surroundings. They tightly gripped their weapons, scanning the area vigilantly, ready to respond to any potential attack. However, despite their readiness, they encountered no enemy assaults. Gradually, the screams from the White Team subsided, and the fog began to dissipate, revealing the surroundings.
As the fog cleared completely, Mike and Lindsay were astonished to find that the entire White Team who had been with them all along, had vanished without a trace, leaving only the two of them standing alone in the area. This sudden turn of events filled them with a sense of fear and unease. They began to scrutinize everything around them, searching for any possible clues or hints.
Meanwhile, in another part of the forgotten realm, Alia and Howard stood in a dilapidated chamber, facing a man seated on an ancient stone throne. His presence was overwhelming, his aura one of immense power and authority. His eyes, dark and sharp, gleamed with amusement as he watched the two younger vampires before him.
"Who are you?" Howard demanded, his voice sharp with arrogance, though his left hand hovered over the dagger at his waist, ready to strike if needed.
The man chuckled softly, his voice like velvet. "Vampires these days lack respect, I see. How about you tell me who you are first, young one?"
Howard sneered. "If you don't want to say, that's fine. Just tell us how to get out of here, and I might spare you since we're of the same kind."
Behind him, Alia tensed, her hand tightening around her whip. She could sense the man's power, and every instinct told her that this was no ordinary encounter.
The man closed his eyes and sniffed the air delicately. "Ah… the scent of Henry I, faint but unmistakable. And… oh, what's this? A hint of Royal's bloodline as well." He opened his eyes and fixed Howard with a piercing gaze. "Interesting. Could you be a descendant of Henry I and Royal?"
Both Howard and Alia froze, shock rippling through them. How could this man know such intimate details? Howard's jaw clenched as the man's words hit home. This was no ordinary vampire. He was ancient, and his knowledge was vast.
"Who are you?" Howard demanded again, though now his voice held a trace of uncertainty.
The man smiled, his eyes gleaming with recognition. "You don't look much like Henry I—he's blond, after all—but that foul stench of his blood clings to you. You're definitely related."
Upon hearing this, Howard regained his composure. "It seems you are indeed an elder, albeit not a very impressive one. My father is indeed Henry, the descendant of Henry I, and I do have some connections with the Lamia Queen. As for my appearance, it's better to be inconspicuous when out and about." As he spoke, Howard's expression shifted, his features hardening. With a slow, deliberate motion, his hair began to change, turning from black to golden, his posture becoming more regal. His face, once ordinary, transformed, revealing the unmistakable handsome features of someone tied to royalty.
Alia's eyes widened in recognition. It was Edward—Henry's son, and Alia's childhood friend!