( Asiva's POV )
With a trembling hand, Asiva turned the page, venturing into the darkest chapter of her clan's history. The ink on the parchnt felt heavy, each word echoing a grim tale of treachery and loss.
The Nightblade clan, once the lifeblood of the vampire society, had not simply faded into obscurity. Their decline was an orchestrated tragedy, a nefarious plot conceived by the very beings who coveted their bloodline.
Over the centuries, the Nightblade won had been wedded off to the leaders of other clans, their rare offspring adding new lines to the vampire lineage. The political implications of these marriages were undeniable, the Nightblade bloodline serving as a seal for alliances and power dynamics.
However, as the demand for Nightblade bloodline increased, the vampire clans began to strategise, scheming to monopolise the Nightblade lineage for their own clans. One by one, the Nightblade won were claid, isolated from their kin, and forced to bear children to continue the bloodline. The once revered clan beca breeding machines for the perpetuation of power, their individual identities and rights vanishing into the insatiable greed of the vampire nobility.
It was at this desperate juncture that a group of Nightblade won, driven by the need to preserve their sacred lineage, made a life-altering decision. They banded together, choosing to live in isolation, far removed from the machinations of vampire politics. They forged an unspoken pact - they would not marry for power or alliances. If they chose to take a partner, it would be for love, and love alone. Their children would not be pawns in a power ga but embodints of a bond born out of genuine affection.
This bold stance not only symbolised their defiance against the tyranny of vampire society but also a strong determination to reclaim their identities and rights. These won bore the na Nightblade with a renewed sense of pride, keeping the fla of their lineage burning bright, even in the face of isolation and adversity.
The Vampire Kings of the past, in their pursuit of power, turned a blind eye to this exploitation. To them, the Nightblade clan was an essential tool for the expansion of their own bloodlines and the consolidation of their power. The inhuman treatnt of the Nightblades was consciously overlooked, the ugly truth buried beneath layers of political stratagems.
This insidious plot continued for generations, the Nightblade clan's numbers dwindling with each passing century. Their divine lineage was scattered across the vampire world, their clan's na becoming a myth whispered in hushed tones.
As Asiva read about the horrifying fate of her ancestors, a cold rage filled her. Betrayed and exploited by those who should have been their allies, her people were pushed to the brink of extinction. The knowledge stung like a bitter wound, the dark reality of her heritage illuminating the cruel machinations of the vampire society.
With the moon casting long shadows across her room, Asiva felt the weight of her lineage pressing down on her. The proud legacy of the Nightblades was more than just their divine ancestry. It was a testant to their survival, to their resilience in the face of unending greed and deceit.
The Nightblade clan was not rely a footnote in the history of vampires; they were the foundation upon which the modern vampire society was built, a foundation that was conveniently forgotten in the annals of history.
Asiva's blood boiled with rage, her eyes reflecting the fierce determination ignited within her. The Nightblade clan might have beco a myth, but she would ensure their truth would not remain buried in the past.
When her husband beca King, she would ensure that the Nightblade clan was given the respect and protection they deserved and if her clansn were still out there sowhere, whatever their numbers might be, they would be given a safe haven on Ixtal.
As she turned over the next page, it contained the procedure for a Nightblade to undergo Bloodline purification and awaken their latent abilities.
Looking over the procedure longingly, Asiva had decided to absolutely go for it once she had everything prepared.
***********
(anwhile on the dinsional battlefield)
To describe Max as a one man army decimating machine would have been an understatent to his strength.
What Anna was witnessing first hand felt surreal to her.
She had always heard tales of how Max single handedly wiped out entire planet of barbarians, but she had thought the rumours must have been exaggerated.
In the end they are just tales and hearsay ant to be exaggerated and overstated, but never did she expect it to be true.
She knew she was supposed to help in this battle, but looking at Max she knew she did not need to.
She had expected the scene to be gory, filled with cries of pain, of anguish. But what unfolded before her eyes was beyond comprehension, more akin to a performance, a dance than a war. The star perforr, the lead dancer, was none other than Max.
The battlefield was his stage, and the enemy his unwilling partners. He moved fluidly through the field, a deadly waltz only he seed privy to. His power over the elents was breathtaking, like a master conducting a symphony of destruction. The wind danced at his command, parting and slicing through the enemy ranks, a deadly ballet that left a trail of broken bodies in its wake. He commanded the Earth with an authority that left her breathless, opening chasms and summoning spires that took lives as easily as one would pluck flowers.
Every now and then, he would condense water from the air and weave them into deadly needles. They glittered ominously under the dim battlefield light before tearing through the enemy ranks, a deadly shower that left no survivors in its wake.
It was a horrifying sight, yet Anna could not tear her eyes away. This was power, raw and unfettered and it made her feel emotions that she was not supposed to feel seeing such a gory sight.
She couldn't understand why but she felt a little weak in the knees when she saw Max fight like this, she couldn't understand why her breathing beca laboured and the surroundings around her seed to fade away.
Often she had dread of Max tearing through a sea of enemies just to co rescue her.
A reliable man who would fight the universe for her if he needed to.
And it was this quality of him that made her so attracted to him and so frustrated that no matter how fast she improved, she never seed to earn her place beside him as he seed to have grown 5 tis more in that sa period.
Behind her Sebastian was leading an undead horde, hundreds of thousands of undead in action as they died and slaughtered enemies hand in hand.
Both the n in her group has single handedly beca one n armies in their own right, and the two of them were closing in on a complete Wipeout of the Res-Foot demon clan.
With a deep sigh she picked up her bow and began taking aim at the tier4 warrior that seed to have identified Sebastian as the lead necromancer and was engaging him in battle.
This was all that she could do for now, to facilitate the smoother completion of the mission, but she wasn't critical to it like the other two boys were.
*SWOOSH*
Her arrow entered the enemy's right ear and exited the left, leaving him dead within seconds as Sebastian flashed her a grin from a few hundred tres away and gave her a thumbs-up.
Rolling her eyes, Anna gave him a smile back before she beca serious and started to take down more enemies.
" Soday, I'll be as strong as both of you…. " She said with conviction as she focused on completing the job.
—-----
/// A/N - Bonus chapter for hitting the PS target, good job everyone! ///
Reviews
All reviews (0)