Today, it was unusually dark outside. It looked as if the sun had been devoured by the clouds. The clouds had cut off the village beneath from receiving natural sunlight.

The clouds were also unnaturally stirring and rumbling. It was as if the world itself was angry at something.

The aforementioned village was covered in a thick, dense fog. The fog was way too thick, even for a winter day. But that fact remained unnoticed by the residents of the village.

Mostly due to the absence of consciousness in them.

Currently, all the former humans were now undead roaming the streets of the village. There were distant horrified screams everywhere, and the scene of blood staining every inch of the streets and houses looked right out of a horror fiction.

They looked like a deformed mockery of their previous human forms. Their flesh was rotting, their bodies looked emaciated, their hair had fallen off, and their teeth had sharpened and become more akin to fangs.

The humans—No, the Undead eldritch forms—continued to attack the weirdly dressed members of their former kin.

The humans wore weird white clothes, with the insignia of a cross on their robes. All of them were trying their best to defend themselves and slay the eldritch creatures.

Their weapons, radiating light, were very effective against the creatures. But the sheer numbers continued to overwhelm them.

How such a calamity befell this quiet and peaceful village would remain forever a mystery to the former residents, as they either die and get consumed by their killers or become one of them.

There was a castle, more like a fortress overlooking the village. It was a sturdy stone fortress with high walls and several defensive towers. Its design reflected medieval architecture, with thick walls and ramparts that encircled the inner courtyard.

The fortress overlooked an usually calm river. This positioning provided a strategic advantage to the fortress in its original role as a defensive stronghold.

Though, right now, the river was anything but calm. The water was getting more and more turbulent with the passing of time.

In the fortress, the throne room was a solemn chamber adorned with historical symbols reflecting its medieval origins. The room featured stone walls and a vaulted ceiling, characteristic of medieval architecture.

At its center was a grand throne, intricately carved and decorated with symbols of royalty and power. The room itself was spacious, designed to impress visitors and convey the authority of its occupants.

Decorative elements such as paintings, curtains, pillars, and candle-lit chandeliers added to the ambiance, transporting visitors to a bygone era of history.

In the balcony of that spacious room, there stood a mysterious figure.

He stood tall and imposing, his frame robust and muscular like a seasoned warrior. His face was angular and stern, dominated by piercing eyes that gleamed with an intense, fiery yellow hue, reminiscent of desert sands under the midday sun.

His hair was a striking mismatch of black and white strands, intermingling chaotically to frame his face and cascade down his shoulders. The black strands were like shadows, while the white strands were reminiscent of light.

His attire blended ancient Egyptian motifs with a touch of modern flair. His presence commanded respect, exuding an aura of strength and unpredictability that mirrored the essence of someone who had lived long.

He was Amenhet Apetnakht, the last surviving member of The House of Apetnakht.

As Amenhet gazed out at the turbulent river, memories of his lineage and the downfall of his once-great house flooded his mind and made his dead heart thrum with both rage and pride.

He was part of a very ancient clan of Vampires.

The House of Apetnakht traces its lineage back to ancient Egypt, where Apetnakht, a powerful High Priest of Set, sought immortality through dark rituals.

Apetnakht was originally a gifted and ambitious priest of Set. He had received countless honorary titles, wealth, territory, fame, and whatnot.

But time was catching up to him. He knew he would eventually die and all his wealth would remain in the mortal world.

'He was once a mortal, after all.'

His foreboding death was the sole motivator behind why he fell deep into the pits of learning everything about magic and mastering the secrets of ancient Egyptian ritual magic.

This pursuit of eternality seemed to amuse the God of Violence. Set, finding the efforts of Apetnakht amusing, offered him a deal. Apetnakht's lust for an eternal life led him to make the pact with Set.

Set granted Apetnakht immortality as a vampire and bestowed upon him the ability to access his domains. The price he had paid for this was unknown, but the cost was bound to be large.

'I just hope he hasn't doomed us all by promising something that he can't pay,' Amenhet thought while observing his eldritch creatures massacre the exorcists sent by the church.

Apetnakht had inherited many powers of Set, such as control over elements of the desert—sandstorms, scorching winds—manipulation of shadows, and an affinity for ancient Egyptian magic involving curses, hieroglyphic spells, and necromancy.

His mastery of ritual magic was also deeply ingrained in his bloodline. His descendants could perform rituals to enhance their strength, manipulate weather patterns, and many more things.

With such power, wealth, and fame, The House of Apetnakht thrived. They expanded their influence in the royal court of Egypt, took more land, and had many pyramids and temples built by the normal humans.

The House of Apetnakht had ancient Egyptian traditions all over their vampiric society, conducting rituals in secret tombs and temples, and following their customs and traditions.

It was an era of prosperity for both Egypt and the Apetnakhts.

'But like all good things, this didn't last for long,' Apetnakht thought, as he saw a human being bitten by his undead. That man probably had a family, and good things awaiting him. Well, that man was no more, just like all good things.

The Egyptian Empire faced multiple invasions from different supernatural and human factions, such as the Greeks and Roman Empire, Angels, Devils, and many more. This led to the destabilization of the Egyptian Empire.

The Apetnakhts, along with many other Egypt-aligned supernatural factions, tried their best to protect the legacy of their home, fighting fiercely but they were overwhelmed by the opposing forces.

In the end, the Egyptian Empire was destroyed, and the Egyptian gods ended up losing a lot of faith.

From here on, it was only a downhill slope for the Egyptian Pantheon. However, the downfall wasn't limited to the Pantheon alone.

The House of Apetnakht also started to decline after the destruction of the Egyptian Empire, especially because of the death of Apetnakht himself.

'Damnation to those foolish crows. I hope that goat dies a tragic death. If it hadn't been for him, our house could have been more prosperous. Alas, there's no point in hypotheticals,' he thought with a morbid chuckle leaving his fanged mouth.

The surviving members were few, and they took to hiding in Romania where they got to know their fellow vampires were gathering to form a society.

There, they remained neutral for a long time, forming small alliances with both Tepes and.... Carmilla Houses and some more with other Vampire Houses.

Their strongest allies used to be the Ekimmus.

'The House of my mother…' he reminisced, as a fond nostalgia washed over him.

The House of Ekimmu was as ancient as Apetnakht, and even their ancestors were geographically close, as Ekimmus traced their origin to the fallen Mesopotamian Empire.

They were most famous for their Life Drain and Intangibility. They were mostly physical fighters unlike Apetnakhts who preferred to keep their distance from their enemies.

Their cultural similarities proved to be a great opportunity for them to bond. To strengthen their already close friendship, they had decided on two political marriages, with one daughter from each side marrying the son of the other.

Not to mention just how powerful the combination of their powers would be. The Apetnakhts would get powers that would cover up their physical weaknesses and the Ekimmus would get more versatility in their skill set.

It was overall a very profitable deal.

The House of Apetnakht and The House of Ekimmu were tied more closely with the marriage of his father Nephes and mother Tiamet Ekimmu, the 2nd daughter of the Head of Ekimmu.

Despite these being political marriages, the couples were happy with their partners and this just strengthened the familial bonds further.

Nephes and Tiamet later on had three children in the coming centuries.

He was the second youngest son of the house and he was expected to marry his love, Perun Upir, the sole daughter of the new head of the House of Upir, an ancient house belonging to the Slavic Myths.

As he thought about Perun, his heart throbbed with love, longing, and a most primordial form of sadness.

'Ah, Perun… I wonder how beautiful our life would have been together. You would have been a magnificent mother. Alas, it wasn't meant to be.' His hand reached out for his neck and grasped and opened the locket that was tucked under his robe.

He stared at the image of a beautiful woman and him riding a Griffin together and smiling like nothing could make them happier.

The woman had tantalizing red hair, reminiscent of blood, and her eyes were as blue as the sky in the background. Her facial features were exquisite, with high cheekbones, a broad forehead, and luscious pink lips.

This was who he had surrendered his heart to, Perun Upir.

He loved Perun with all his heart. She had everything he was looking for in a woman. It felt like they were meant for each other. Even his generally stoic and hard to please mother was approving of his choice.

It wasn't as prosperous a time as their era in Egypt, but it was still a good and relatively peaceful time period. And it was definitely the best for him.

'I still remember the day when the first domino fell…' He thought with his fists clenched around the locket in regret. 'I should have known that earlier. The signs were all there, maybe if I wasn't blinded by my love…'

A hundred and thirteen years ago, he was heading over to meet Perun with the blood of a Griffin he had killed, and taken the eggs of, as a gift. On the way there, he had heard some Vampires furiously arguing over something.

He obviously hadn't heard much, as other vampires knew about the heightened senses of their fellow brethren and took measures to prevent such eavesdropping.

"Which house is the closest to the Ancestor?"

That was all he got to hear, but it had been enough to work out what the argument was about.

It wasn't anything new. It was an age-old argument with just how diverse the Vampire houses were. Most Houses traced their origins to different mythologies and had entirely different customs and values.

But they all knew who was the one who partly inspired all of their creation. The Dracula, whose real name was unknown, had single-handedly contributed more to the Vampiric lore than any other Vampire.

No one knew how he came to be, or what his origins were. He was the oldest vampire found in ancient records. He was also the creator of some Vampiric Houses, like Tepes, Carmilla, Nosferatu, and some more.

His origins were believed to be the same as the Primordials because of this. He and the Primordials of other mythologies just existed.

It was this uncertainty and thought that made many proclaim him as the Ancestor of all Vampires. There were even rumors about him still being alive and just sleeping inside a casket.

"Humans and their rumors… both are stupidly good at spreading." Amenhet said, with a harsh chuckle leaving his mouth.

Anyway, it turned out that the Houses of Tepes and Carmilla were again having their centuries-old debate about Dracula being the Ancestor.

Tepes supported the idea of him being the progenitor of their House, with the evidence being some obscure lines in some ancient texts saying that "Vlad Tepes the first was born from the Dragon."

Apparently, Dracula and Dragon were related.

The Carmillas too weren't proving anything with their idea of Dracula being female. Amenhet's eyebrows twitched at that thought, and he almost forgot his current situation.

They also didn't have any good evidence to support their theory.

At the end, it was all to push their Houses higher on the vampiric society's hierarchy.

The House of Apetnakht, along with its allies, tried their best to separate themselves from this nonsensical drama.

He, being part of his house, had done the sensical thing and ignored the fools arguing over such a silly thing, and focused back on delivering the Griffin blood to his love.

'That was definitely a mistake' He thought bitterly.

He returned to his home, after having a fantastic time with Perun, he lived peacefully for two years with no problems.

Everything was going good for him, he was going to be twenty years soon. That would make him an Adult Vampire, eligible for marriage.

But then a tragedy struck.

He still remembers that night vividly.

{Flashback}​

He was returning from a hunt, his spirits high after slaying a strong Strigoi. He scoffed at the idea of them being the "lesser" Vampires. They were quite formidable with their unique skill set.

"Tsk, lesser my foot! I have had easier times defeating other vampires."

This Strigoi in particular had been hard to defeat; she had been harassing villagers in their territory.

His house had sent him after the Strigoi, as they got blood from the peasants in return for protection. It was a pretty good way to get blood willingly, not to mention that the blood tasted sweeter when the one giving it was grateful.

His house was one of the more... progressive ones.

While they didn't have any problems with their peers enslaving humans for blood, they themselves didn't participate in their debaucherous practice.

Ignoring the old fools who didn't know anything about the beauty of humans, he focused back on riding his tamed Griffin, Sekhem, towards his family manor.

He looked up at the sky above and appreciated the beautiful moon.

'Ahh, it would have been good if I had brought that magical device to capture this scene. Mother would definitely appreciate this beautiful scene.' He thought with amusement. His mother really liked the moon and its different phases.

The days were growing shorter, the nights longer, and colder. His twentieth birthday had been approaching, and with it, his long-awaited marriage to Perun.

'Perun… We would soon be united for the eternity to come.' His thoughts were laced with anticipation.

His head was filled with images of them entangling and embracing each other. Just as he started to think about the more interesting things, he noticed that something was weird.

The air was thick with an unnatural stillness when he flew close to the manor. His keen senses immediately picked up on the odd silence that pervaded the usually lively place. As he got closer, a chilling sense of dread washed over him.

He clenched the reins of Sekhem tightly.

"Sekhem! Get down," he ordered the Griffin, and as if sensing the urgency in his tone, Sekhem landed quickly.

He quickly started heading for the manor, after petting Sekhem and ordering him to stay out.

As he walked through the unguarded doors, the first thing he noticed was the blood. It stained the cobblestones, the walls, everything. His heart pounded in his chest as he quickened his pace towards his family's estate.

Upon reaching the core of the manor, the sight that greeted him was one of pure horror. His heart dropped upon seeing what awaited his eyes.

The once grand entrance was shattered, the doors splintered and hanging off their hinges. Inside, the scene was a massacre.

Bodies of his family and allies lay strewn about, lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Blood pooled everywhere, the metallic scent mixed with other disgusting smells overpowering his senses.

The bodies of the male vampires looked excessively vandalized and mutilated. It was as if someone had ripped off their genitals and crushed their pelvic bones. All of them had disgust and horror written all over their blood-covered faces.

"T-This… What is this?! Is this a nightmare?.. How in the hell did all this happen!" He shouted, fear and anger covering him from head to toe.

Just as he was getting more and more angry and anxious, he noticed something even more horrifying.

"FA- FATHER?! MOTHER?! No, No, No, this can't be real." He shouted and ran towards their bodies as fast as he could.

His parents, Nephes and Tiamet, lay close together, their faces frozen in expressions of pain and defiance.

His siblings' bodies were no different. They were all spread around, and he could barely recognize them, but their bodies bore distinctive marks of a fierce battle.

Seeing all the dead bodies, his heart clenched and started aching. The final nail in the coffin was when he noticed the body of his only younger sister, Sera.

Her barely eight years old body was littered with gruesome scars and her hair was scattered around her body, it looked like they were pulled out of her skull, leaving it bloody.

Amenhet fell to his knees, a silent screech escaping his lips. Tears were running from his eyes without any signs of stopping.

"W-why? Why had this calamity chosen to befall my family?! First the loss in Egypt, and now this.. are we cursed to always lose?!" He screamed to the skies, the weather responded to his emotions and it started to rain.

He could feel it as his energy was being drained and used to subconsciously affect the environment.

Rage, grief, and helplessness surged through him. His mind raced, trying to comprehend the devastation. It didn't take long for him to piece together what could possibly have happened.

As soon as the realization hit him, his blood literally boiled with anger.

"YOU SCOUNDRELS! I WOULD ANNIHILATE YOUR NAME OFF THE PAGES OF HISTORY!" He announced his vengeance to the skies, and the sky responded with lightning striking the surroundings of the castle.

The Carmillas had always been ruthless in their pursuit of power, using force to gain everything. Their greed and lust for dominance had most definitely driven them to annihilate the Apetnakhts.

It could have been the Tepes, but they weren't about subtlety. They would have announced their vendetta without a second thought, valuing honor.

The neutral stance the House of Apetnakht had maintained, their attempt to avoid the political infighting, had ultimately made them targets.

His eyes filled with tears as he approached his parents' bodies. He gently closed their eyes and whispered promises of vengeance. He took off the ring on his father's body, while apologizing for desecrating his corpse.

He knew his father wouldn't mind it, but it wouldn't settle right with him to not apologize for it.

This wasn't an ordinary ring; rather it was the Lordship Ring. It had been passed down from the first Apetnakht to his father. It was also the sole gateway to the ancient magic tomes that belonged to his family.

This was a piece of knowledge that only his house and some high-ranking members of his mother's family knew. It was somewhat alleviating to see it intact. They hadn't been betrayed.

He stood up and placed himself in the middle of the manor. As he raised his hand, a yellow magical construct with complicated hieroglyphs appeared over it.

He used his magic to collect all of their bodies and store them in his spatial storage. He had read about his ancestor, Apetnakht, raising the dead back to life.

He was a descendant of Apetnakht. He would drag his family's souls from the afterlife if he had to.

The weight of his family's legacy now rested solely on his shoulders and he planned on enshrining its name for the supernatural.

{Flashback End}​

After all the trouble he had gone through that day, he hadn't been fine. He was lost at the time, not knowing how to go about what he wanted to do.

He had disguised himself and lived with the humans in a village, which was previously under their jurisdiction. After the day of the massacre, the territory of Apetnakht was distributed among the different houses of the Carmilla Faction, with the House of Carmilla not taking anything.

Some parts were also given to the Tepes Faction after they raised an outcry about the Carmilla Faction breaking one of the rules of Romanian Vampire Society, and indiscriminately massacring not just the House of Apetnakht, but also some other neutral houses.

It was just that more devastating for his mind when he had found out that both his mother's and lover's families had been part of the "Blood Flood."

His plans of seeking refuge there were shattered along with his heart. It was the most heart wrenching pain he had felt ever. He had cried for days, mourning the loss of everything he held dear.

'Don't worry Perun. Your fear of being forgotten would never come true. You will always remain eternal in my memories.' He thought with longing, looking at the locket that reminded him of the happier times.

How tragic it was that he wasn't even able to get a last glimpse of her, or even see her corpse.

The annihilation of their allies had left him with no choice but to abandon Romania.

He had some thoughts about joining the Tepes Faction and fighting the Carmillas, but his pride wouldn't let him do that. His family had chosen to be neutral in this matter, and he would be spitting on their wishes by not doing so.

It also wasn't that enticing of a path. The Tepes Faction's fangs weren't unstained by blood. It also had many differences with what The House of Apetnakht believed in.

After all, they were quite vocal about their disdain for humanity and their "lesser" variants.

With that in mind, Amenhet had narrowly escaped the search party of the Carmilla faction, fleeing through the dense forests and across the winding rivers until he reached Moldova.

There, amidst the quiet peace of a secluded village, he had found refuge in this fortress perched strategically overlooking the tranquil landscape.

With practiced skill honed over decades, he used his hypnotic powers to seamlessly blend into the community of villagers, convincing the mortals that he had always been there, a descendant of royalty living alone in the grandiose castle.

Life in Moldova was solitary yet not devoid of companionship.

The nights passed by, and in no time almost a century had passed. The stale century had been brightened by a big event for him but otherwise it was just that, stale and boring. He had made progress on his studies on reincarnation, and got the benefits that came with learning about it.

He has developed his powers in the line of necromancy and curses. He could now raise thousands of corpses as his weapons, curse the bloodline of people, and some more stuff. But he hadn't completely lost himself in the madness that was studying death.

He had also advanced his other skills that were his specialties back when he wasn't treading on the path of Necromancy.

He was proficient in the art of hand-to-hand combat and had become very proficient in the sword style that belonged to the house of his mother.

He wasn't made up of glass like many other vampires, he was a hardened Ekkimu warrior.

He was very powerful for a vampire his age, but he still wasn't nearly enough to even think of contending with the more powerful vampires.

In the solidarity of his lonesome castle, he had formed many theories on how the massacre might have been executed, especially with the information he had collected in the time he was disguised as a human.

Whoever it was, they had stealthily taken out most of his house. The fact that the manor was intact despite there being many powerful vampires involved in the massacre obviously signals that they were taken out by surprise.

The house that reaped the most benefits out of the ordeal were the Lamiaen. It wasn't hard to see the connection. The Lamiaen were feared for their powers that made them the perfect assassins. Even if their all-female house made them the most suited for the assassination of male targets, they were all-rounded.

Their loyalty to The Carmilla Faction, all but confirmed his doubts.

With that confirmed he had looked into whatever records his house had of them. There wasn't anything much, but he got to know about their connection to the Greek Pantheon.

Any and all information is useful.

Other than that, in the solitude of his fortress, Amenhet also maintained a careful balance with the local humans.

He interacted sparingly, preferring anonymity and occasional acts of benevolence to maintain their trust and ignorance of his true nature.

He had to ensure that both his vampire heritage and his human guise remained undisturbed and separated amidst the shifting nights.

There was nothing special about the village, no religion to be wary of either. In his time here, he witnessed the ingenuity and uniqueness of the lives of humans.

His observations about the life and death of humans had given him many insights into the art of Necromancy. The observations had also made him realize that he wasn't anything special in losing those that he loved.

The realization hadn't dampened his thirst for revenge, but it had indeed made him less cynical.

As for the event that brightened his world, it all started just a few decades ago.

Drawn to his striking appearance and magnetic presence, a few human women became enthralled by Amenhet and had approached his fortress.

As they had approached him on their own volition and were beautiful enough, he had deemed them worthy enough to be his thralls.

He didn't have much of a sexual drive, but he was indeed interested in learning about the nature of females of the human species.

As thralldom required the participants to be willing, he needed to tell them about the truth of his existence.

After he revealed his true nature to them, most of them had become frightened, and had opted not to accept his offer of thralldom, and he had simply erased their memories of the encounter and sent them back.

The remaining three had, amusingly enough, offered their blood to satisfy his vampiric thirst. He had then performed the required ceremony, making them his thralls.

However, his relationship with them was weird. It was a relationship devoid of emotional bonds, yet tinged with a sense of responsibility on his part.

The key event happened when twelve years ago, one of the three women, Elena, against all odds, bore his child.

"I still can't believe that I became a father… Father always told me that I would hate to be one, but guess what, old man, I love it." A smile appeared on his face as he thought of his young child.

It had been a very welcome surprise. He had been very confused at the start of Elena's pregnancy, but as soon as the baby was delivered and he laid his eyes on him, he was convinced that it was his progeny.

His son had inherited every physical feature from him, being a vampire.

Though technically a Dhampir, the House of Apetnakht didn't care about such distinctions since ancient times. He would happily let his child, Sethos, inherit everything he had.

As he raised him, Sethos proved to be a very disciplined and obedient child. Despite losing control of his powers sometimes, he quickly mastered them. Unlike so many other infant vampires that needed to be "coddled" into controlling theirs.

Raising Sethos to be who he is now was the best time of his life.

He smiled happily upon thinking about the memories of Sethos, but that didn't last long.

As he got out of his memories and focused back on the real world, he saw a bloodied blonde woman heading towards his castle as she slaughtered through his undead army with ease. He could sense that she was very powerful, especially for a human. She was definitely more powerful than him.

The blonde was a beautiful woman who appeared to be in her late 20s to early 30s, if his century-long experience was anything to go by.

She had mesmerizing blue eyes that were currently full of ice. He did note the unique features she had; if he had to guess, it looked like she was from Northern Europe.

She was also well-endowed underneath her nun attire. More so than his thralls, who had their beauty and body enhanced by their transformation.

'They were still smaller than Perun's. But it would be unfair to compare anyone to Perun.' He thought. How he wished she could see his son and be a mother to him.

He is sure she wouldn't have minded that he didn't have her blood; after all, she could have just adopted him into her house by a ritual.

Anyway, all the things that are happening right now were because of one very stupid mistake he made by underestimating a human.

One day, some members from the church had come to indoctrinate the village about the God of Christianity.

Their arrival wasn't that unexpected, but what he wasn't expecting was one of them to have means of escaping the village when he was using his hypnotic powers to manipulate their memories.

That priest had probably returned to his church and reported the incident to one of the higher-ups, and that's why his identity was blown up, and why there were so many exorcists inside the village and why the blonde-haired woman was heading towards his castle.

That had been a brutal mistake, one that he regrets the most. He wasn't too worried about his own life; he was more worried about what would happen to Sethos now.

He had already prepared everything, and Sethos is already safe. What worries him, however, is the uncertainty of his safety in the future. He would probably die here, with the only chance of achieving his revenge and reviving his family being his progeny.

Amenhet just hopes that his son survives whatever trouble heads his way in the future and lives a long and happy life.

_____________________________________________________

[Sethos Apetnakht]​

Just as I had opened my eyes, only one question came to mind upon noticing the unfamiliar surroundings.

W-where am I?