The night was heavy with a chill, a silent forewarning of the storm that had yet to hit. Draegorth, ever a city of intrigue and power, was unknowingly on the verge of another shift in its delicate balance. Word had spread quickly about the recent death of Zaren Malgrim, a blow that would no doubt echo through the city's underworld for days to come. But that would not be the real cause of Draegorth's turbulence. No, something far more dangerous had arrived.
Amon Malrick, Beaskin of the wolf lineage, stepped off the ship onto the muddy docks of Draegorth with the same silence that defined his every action. His eyes, pale and almost predatory in their intensity, scanned the city that sprawled before him. Dark streets, filled with secrets, shadows that whispered of things unsaid—it was the perfect hunting ground.
Amon was no stranger to the shadows. They were his domain, and as a **Void Stalker**, he could meld with them, disappear from view in the blink of an eye, only to reappear and strike with unparalleled precision. His mission was clear. Noah Alcric, the vampire who had managed to evade the notice of so many, was now Amon's prey. Sent by **Darius Kain** and the **World Hunting Council**, Amon's arrival in Draegorth was not due to the power struggles that played out among the city's noble clans. His target had already been marked by another—and this time, it was for reasons far darker than any political or financial motive.
Noah Alcric's vampiric bloodline was an affront to the very principles that the World Hunting Council upheld. Vampires were not merely monstrous—they were the stain of an ancient evil, a corruption that had to be eradicated before it could spread any further. It was this unholy nature that had led to Amon's call. As a hunter, he had never been one for mercy. The law of the World Hunting Council was simple: remove the threat.
Amon's boots made no sound as he moved through the mist-covered streets, his tall, lean figure cloaked in the shadows of the alleyways. His **Phantom Step** allowed him to move with the grace of a shadow, blinking through space and time as he traversed the labyrinth of Draegorth. Every movement was calculated, deliberate, with the kind of stillness that only a true predator could maintain. His mission was not just to kill Noah—no, he would do more than that. Amon would hunt him, stalk him, until the moment of his end was inevitable.
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Amon's path led him into the heart of Draegorth's most dangerous districts—the **Silent Veil**, a sprawling network of black-market deals and shadowy dealings. But his eyes never wavered from his singular purpose. He was not here to get lost in the politics or petty struggles of Draegorth. The city's whispers about the **Zephyrix Syndicate**, the **Infernal Cabal**, or even the power plays of the **Malgrim Clan**—none of that mattered. It was Noah he was after, and the hunt would begin soon.
The docks, the alleyways, the taverns—every part of Draegorth was now just terrain to Amon. He had been briefed on Noah's movements, the people Noah trusted, the places he frequented. But there was no guarantee that this information would be enough. Amon would need to track his prey with more than just knowledge.
**Blood Scent**—a gift from his Beaskin heritage—allowed him to track Noah's every movement. The air itself seemed to hum with a quiet resonance as Amon used his heightened senses to hone in on the faintest trail of blood, whether it was freshly spilled or the lingering trace of an old wound. His eyes narrowed as he caught the faintest hint of Noah's presence—his vampire blood leaving its unique signature on the world around him. Amon's keen senses guided him through the city, each step bringing him closer to the heart of Draegorth.
His instincts were sharp, a result of countless hunts that had sharpened him into a lethal weapon. The **Predator's Instinct** pulsed in the back of his mind, like a low growl—warning him, guiding him. He could feel the city's rhythm, the movement of its inhabitants, but Noah—Noah was different. His energy was something Amon could feel, a dark pulse in the undercurrent of Draegorth. It was the mark of a predator, and Amon could already sense the inevitable confrontation drawing near.
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It wasn't long before Amon found himself in the vicinity of Noah Alcric's residence, a grand mansion on the outskirts of the city—**Obsidian Estate**, it was called. He'd studied the layout, mapped the guards, noted the routines. It would be a fool's errand to rush in blindly. Amon was anything but foolish.
Instead, he remained hidden in the shadows, his form blending with the darkness as he waited for the right moment. His **Void Mirage** ability allowed him to create shadowy duplicates of himself, each one moving silently through the estate's grounds, confusing any who might notice. Amon could be in one place while his mirages danced across the landscape, misdirecting potential threats.
Hours passed, but Amon was patient. The hunt required finesse, precision. He knew that Noah was close, his bloodline echoing through the corridors of the estate. Every moment spent waiting brought Amon closer to the moment when he would strike. He would take Noah when the vampire least expected it—when he was most vulnerable.
The tension in the air was thick as Amon took a slow, steady breath. His **Shadow Fang** claws began to materialize, his void-infused weapons of death. He could feel the power thrumming through him, the air thick with anticipation. This hunt would not be like the others. Noah's blood would be his prize, and he would not let the vampire slip through his grasp.
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Amon moved again, his **Phantom Step** carrying him silently through the estate's halls, his senses focused, his every motion precise. His shadowy form passed unseen by the guards, slipping through gaps in the world itself. He was the wolf in the dark, closing in on his prey.
Noah was nearby. Amon could feel him. Soon, it would be over.
Amon's smile was cold, predatory. He could already imagine the kill—the final strike, when Noah would realize too late that he had been marked. The hunt was on, and Amon Malrick, Void Stalker of the World Hunting Council, would not fail.
The time to strike was near.
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Draegorth's fate had already been sealed by its inhabitants. But Amon's arrival would mark the end of one predator—and the beginning of another. The hunt had only just begun.