The Eversleepers were dying.
Everywhere.
After hearing the orders of Draven, the nocturnal knights rallied together into smaller groups, trying their best to retreat.
But the giant black werewolf was destroying those unable to defend themselves.
Dracula tried his best to distract it, but instead, it made an enemy of any vampire it could see.
Its eyes were a radiant white, a contrast to its dark fur, and its claws were each the size of a small child.
Draven began to descend down his hill, and on his way, he found Serena with a bunch of Eversleepers.
"Draven!" She cried against the chaos and ran up the hill to et him. "What is going on? Why did you order our retreat."
Serena's scythe was bloodied, and those with her seed to have just finished their battle.
The werewolves of that mountain were dead, and so was Lunaris.
But where is Florissa?
"Lunaris has been killed by my hand, but a new opponent has risen. He is too dangerous for you all to be here. We must save as many lives as we can."
The ntion of a new opponent seed to fill Serena with shock, but she nodded her head without protest.
"Good, now run. Take as many people back with you to the entrance of the Silver Peaks and run. The Noctaris Estate is our sanctuary."
After giving her the orders, Draven turned and made to head in a different direction.
"What about you, Master? Where will you go."
Draven shouted from over his shoulder.
"To help Dracula."
---
When Draven made his way to the location where Dracula fought against Ecliyen, he passed many Nocturnal Knights and Eversleepers making their retreats.
Of course, the numbers were much lower than when they first arrived, many of their forces had fallen in battle.
He also saw Werewolves fleeing with fear.
As he dashed past one at the base of the mountain, he broke its neck with a swift movent.
He was only a young werewolf, but his duties could not be forgotten.
Halfway up the mountain, Draven watched as Dracula barely blocked a clawed strike from the giant.
The blow knocked him back far, sending him tumbling down the mountain towards Draven.
He landed on his back, clothes torn and body worn.
"Dracula, you can leave. Lead the vampires back to the estate whilst I deal with this creature."
Upon noticing Draven, Dracula rose to his feet, clearly in pain.
Ecliyen also noticed Draven and his eyes seed to beam with anger.
It was as though he recognised his true enemy.
Dracula nodded to his good friend.
"If you wish, Brother. But please be prepared... This thing is strong."
"Yes. I know. I plan to use that."
Dracula knew what his friend was talking about, and his eyes widened at the concept.
"Then I'm sure you will be fine. I will see you back at the estate."
Dracula dashed away towards the southern exit of the silver peaks, leaving Draven alone with the Ecliyen.
He looked up at the giant who was staring down at him from above.
Draven had allowed him to take high ground, which usually would be a problem in battles.
But it didn't matter.
Regardless of how strong Ecliyen and his broken god were, Draven did not plan on prolonging the battle.
This won't take long.
Draven pulled up his sleeve and scratched his arm deeply, drawing the Malevolent Blood.
It was by far the most he had used since waking.
It flew from his arm like a stream. A magnificent blue that glinted in the moonlight.
Ecliyen, with his dark fur, let out a terrible roar that hurt even Draven's ears as he charged down the mountain face, rocks and snow scattering around his heavy footsteps.
But Draven was a step ahead, and he had already considered the battle won.
The vampire lord slamd his hands together as though In prayer, and instantly, the blood multiplied to an amount that should have been impossible.
It created a large wall of blood in front of him, but the wall was not solid.
As Ecliyen crashed through it, the blood splattered and covered the werewolf, staining his fur with the blue malevolent blood.
Draven took steps backwards, as the beast continued towards him, the blood not seeming to have any effect.
Draven felt the effects of his blood usage taking a toll on his body. He had not used so much in over a thousand years.
But it did not matter.
His opponent had already run through his trap like an adolescent fool.
With power, Draven clenched both fists as though he were squashing bugs in his hands.
His nails dug into his palms, drawing more drops of blood.
And then he spoke the tongue of ancients.
A magic taught to him by his father.
A language that only he knew.
"Laventh Sanguis!"
As his voice resonated through the silver peaks, the blood covering the large werewolves instantly beca solid, and began to retract itself around the beast.
Instantly, it's movents were stopped as the force t it's body.
First, was the bones.
They began to splinter and crack under the force of the encapsulating blood.
The werewolf let out a roar of pain.
Then, they broke entirely, allowing his body to be manipulated like clay.
Bones tore through flesh and muscles as the beasts red blood mixed with the Malevolent.
Things continued this way, the sounds of squelching organs ringing through the air.
Draven clenched his fists tighter, forcing the blood to work with his will.
Once satisfied, he released his grip and allowed the blood to evaporate into the air.
What was left in front of him was the battered form of a giant.
Blood stained the snow as it leaked from the mangled corpse.
Draven fell to his knees, drained from the usage of the power. If he wanted to, he could stand and continue fighting.
But there was no enemies left.
The battle was done.
"Congratulations, Draven."
A voice rang in Draven's head, catching the vampire off guard and forcing him to jump to his feet, ready to continue his fight.
But nobody was nearby.
"Oh stop the foolishness, even you know that you are not strong enough to lay sight on a god."
Shock struck Draven as he recognised who the voice belonged to.
"Galvacaniva?" He said, clenching his fists in rage.
There was a few monts of silence before he received a reply.
"And you even dare to speak my na? It seems your thousand-year slumber has given you even more confidence."
The words seed to be being spoken directly into Draven's head, with no direct source.
"You petulant god!" Draven spat. "I've defeated two of your vessels now; if you are so great, then co and face yourself. Take on a physical form and battle , might against might!"
A bass-filled laugh bood in Draven's head as the god mocked his challenge.
"I am the petulant one? You get things mistaken, mortal. You have more imdiate things to worry about. You think the werewolves were your largest threat?"
Draven didn't respond, waiting for the god to continue speaking.
From what he knew, the werewolves were the strongest.
"Look how easily you beat Ecliyen and Lunaris? These beasts were but a re distraction. No, your real enemy is the woman who resides in the capital. The one who orchestrated this entire battle."
Draven stood there in the snow, growing further confused by the words of the Broken God.
"You were told that I worked with the Werewolves, were you not? Who do you think suggested them to do such a thing?"
Draven's heart sunk into his chest.
The Mother.
From the look on his face, Galvacaniva knew that the vampire lord had finally grasped what was happening.
He let out another laugh again.
"Deal with her first, and then we may talk. But be warned, mortal vampire, she is ten tis stronger than this beast was. She says it herself after all. Science Rules Over All."
The final words slowly faded away as Draven was left by himself in the snow. Ecliyen's body had slowly begun to evaporate, a result of his pact with a god.
Draven stood there, anger brewing in his soul.
In fact, anger was an understatent.
He had been duped by a re human. His temper and contempt for Galvacaniva were used as a weapon against him.
The Vampire lord let out a roar of his own that would be heard by all surrounding civilisation, and chill the skins of its residents.
Draven felt his desire to do evil growing with every passing mont, and it was then that he made a promise to yourself.
Annabelle... Your death is so very near.
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