Liza shifted through dimensional rifts. All while trying to wrap her head around everything Arianna's mind revealed. Centuries of planning. Hidden agents. Seeds planted so deep into Babylon's ranks they'd sprouted into positions of trust before anyone suspected. And now... this plant-based weapon—the one that had actually pierced Damian—was the fruit of that patience. Arianna's memories confirmed they'd been there all along.
Silversong Agents.
Knights of Bird Watch.
But more importantly... What is Project Alpha?
Could it be the weapon that scarred Damian?
That seemed like the most logical conclusion.
Only time will tell.
Liza slipped through a portal into the Skyfather Compound. It was empty other than servants roaming around doing their daily tasks.
A door creaked open. Nova walks out of the Deathment.
"Well," she said, removing her gloves, "you'll be happy to know you were right. Downstairs I have a dead vampire and a member of the group who attacked us at the party. He's currently sedated."
Liza turned. "You mean the—"
"Talmari Justice—," "Stryx." They said in unison.
Both women stopped.
"There's two factions against us simultaneously?" Nova said. "I mean the Talmari Justice system isn't anything new. They're always after us. But the Stryx are new."
"Yes." Liza's jaw tightened. "The Talmari agent's mind I tampered with confirms the weapon used against Damian isn't new. This wasn't an innovation free—it's the result of a centuries-long infiltration. And now they're ready to move."
"I like them." Nova whistled low. "Taking foreplay to the next level. They stuck the tip in when they attacked our favorite blood sucker and now they're preparing to give us every inch. How big do you think they are?"
"My god your analogies. But big enough that by the time we noticed, it was already too late to rip it out by the roots without losing half the empire." Liza stepped closer. She placed her hands on her hips. "The boys needs to hear this immediately."
"Agreed." Nova folded her arms. "Good luck getting Jeryko to pick up. Last I heard he was checking one of the slave colonies."
"Oh he'll wanna know once I link all of our minds together," Liza said, closing her eyes.
The sensation was like stepping through a thin sheet of ice—soundless, frictionless, until her mind found his across the galaxy.
Jeryko, she called into the dark between worlds.
A faint pulse of awareness answered. 'Liza.' His tone was calm, but she could feel the low hum of activity in the background—the bustle of industry, distant screams, chains clinking.
"I got him on," Liza said as the two women enter her quarters on the upper left side of the Skyfather Compound. "Jeryko it's urgent. A Talmari Agent broke into The Rot. We have to assume our weapons operation is compromised. She was looking for all kinds of encrypted files. Intel—code lanes, testing routes, soulcrack vectors, slave colonies—our product is under attack. When I broke her mind I discovered a centuries-old plot of infiltration. They've been planting operatives into Babylon for generations, and now we know for sure that weapon that scarred Damian can kill vampires."
There was a pause.
Details, he said.
"They are also paired with a group of hunters called the Stryx. It's the only bit of information I got out of the guy. This new threat is highly resistant to torture. They're good. Just not better than us four," Nova said. "But if Knight-Shadow is the best they've got strength wise we shouldn't be to worried. I don't doubt they have others of his caliber though. After this I was hoping Liza could get something out of him."
Liza nods.
Nova continues. "I also brought back a vampire corpse. He didn't use it on me, but Knight-Shadow was armed with the same daggers that scarred Damian. As if he were prepared to fight a vampire."
She let the weight of that hang for a moment.
"If they have this in mass production," Liza added, "Every kill will be permanent. Not only does this weapon leave permanent damage there's high potential it can kill you both."
Another pause—longer this time.
When Jeryko spoke again, his voice was colder. Nova, did you send scouts to burn this plant and remove it off the dark market?
"Gina said she was going to revise the list," Nova replied. "When she sends that over I'll have it all off the market in weeks."
Tell her abandon all other studies, Jeryko said. This is to take top priority. If this is not completed by the time I return I will personally use her blood to fuel myself for the hunt of the Stryx.
***PLANET DOLTUN***
The descent was silent. Jeryko stood at the prow of the cruiser, his expression unreadable.
Behind him, Sephara leaned lazily against the railing, one leg crossed over the other. Her hair — thick black curls tied into two high ponytails — bounced slightly with each idle swing of her heel against the steel. The sleek black of her off-shoulder suit clung to her figure before spilling into loose flared pants at her calves, combat shoes tapping an easy rhythm. Her reddish-brown eyes shimmered with that same mix of mischief and daring she always carried.
"You ever relax?" she asked, tilting her head so her curls slid to one side. She put on a teasing smirk. "You stand there like a damn statue."
"I'm always relaxed." Jeryko's eyes stayed fixed on the planet below — a scarred wasteland, fractured by fencing and nesting pits.
Sephara sighed, pushing off the railing with a roll of her shoulders. "Is that so? Why's that hot shot?"
"Because there's nothing and no one above me," Jeryko said.
"Get over yourself," Sephara fires back giggling.
The cruiser touched down, and the air hit them — acrid and sour, reeking of chemical runoff and rot. Blue-skinned aliens, skinny and wide-eyed, emerged from their shelters. Their glowing pupils cut the dim air, every pair trained on the two figures standing before them.
"They don't look too happy to see us." Sephara tilted her head, arms crossing under her chest as she looked them over. In fact, they look terrified.
An elder shuffled forward, his voice rough but laced with authority.
"We killed your men," he rasped. "Babylon will harvest us no longer."
Sephara's brows shot up, amused. "What is he talking about?"
The elder pressed on, louder this time, as if speaking the words gave him strength.
"We scattered our women and children across the stars. You won't find them. We will not breed slaves for you anymore."
For the first time, Sephara's smirk faded slightly. She glanced sideways at Jeryko whose eyes narrowed.
Jeryko's right eye turned gold. Rotetsu scanned the area combing female magic signatures. Nothing. The elder wasn't bluffing. The colony had cut off its own future rather than feed Babylon's empire.
Jeryko's voice was calm, devoid of emotion. "I see."
Sephara begun to move but Jeryko pulls her beside him.
"Stay close," he said. His arm now around her waist.
Jeryko reached out his hand flicking a small sphere towards the Azyrians who were all confused. And without warning the void expanded and the air trembled. Gravity quivered. Doltun cracked, mountains collapsing, oceans boiling into vapor, cities folding in on themselves. The screams of trillions vanished as continents disintegrated, their molten cores erupting. All of it being sucked into the black hole that continued to expand its reach until nothing was left.
Now watching the empty space where the planet used to be, sheltered by Jeryko's vampiric energy Sephara asks him why he did what he did.
"Disobedience is met with death. Your client wants Zeraphine," Jeryko said, he begun flying her home. "This is how it's made. The Azyrians eggs contain a secretion slime — when powdered and refined into pills, it becomes a stimulant. Addictive. It adds life and cures any illness for months at a time. It has its side effects of cellular overgrowth. Ironically a disease that can only be cured by the drug. In order to continue living you must continue buying the drug. Once a person takes it, they are a repeat customer for life."
Sephara blinked, lips parting slightly. "You're telling me... Babylon's making people into drug mules with alien eggs?"
"They're livestock," Jeryko corrected, voice flat. "Their offspring are more profitable cracked than raised. No different from the eggs you scrambled for breakfast."
Her smirk faltered, a shadow creeping across her expression. "That's... twisted. Even for you."
"You only think that way because intelligent life takes precedence over inferior minds. I have no such delusion and treat everyone the same." Jeryko glanced at her only once, unreadable as ever. "Babylon does not trade in mercy. We trade in demand."
***PLANET GIA***
After dropping off Sephara, Jeryko stared at the fireplace in the Skyfather Compound. He sat down his cup of blood.
"Stop baby sitting your blood," Damian said entering his quarters. He picked up his cup and took one gulp finishing it. "And if you wanna be big and strong like your older brother you're gonna have to eat your veggies too."
Jeryko turns to him unbothered. "What do you want?"
"I take the slave colony was hit by the Stryx or Talmari Justice System."
"It was. The vampires I sired to watch over them were killed. The aliens couldn't have done that alone. I'm assuming you were properly briefed."
"Yea. Seems that weapons all to real. I saw the dead corpse Nova brought back too. Her and Liza are working on getting information out of Knight-Shadow as we speak." Damian walks up grabbing a bottle from behind the bar. "But listen, we gotta start looking for new pipelines to funnel our product through. Find new territories to take over and other people we can trust."
"Agreed. Any colony without results will be marked for inspection. Those deemed traitors will meet their end," Jeryko said walking up to grab a drink that his brother poured.
"Even if we have to kill off every person that works for us we can start again." Damian smiles. "I'll hold a meeting with the Grave Diggers. I'll figure out which faction is screwing with us and wipe 'em out."
"We aren't doing that," Jeryko replied.
Damian looks in shock.
"If we keep reacting the way we did in the beginning we won't have business anymore. This new threat is counting on us to react this way. We need to be calculated." Jeryko finished his drink. "Nova had the right idea when she cut off product going towards Reese. We'll do that for all of our factions."
"You wanna shut down?" Damian laughs. He walks up to his brother. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard all day."
"Our enemy is blocking off all our territory. Whatever the factions have left—if they can sell it I'll allow it. But we aren't lending out any more product until we have this under control. I'm freezing our assets because if we keep supplying product and our enemy continues what they're doing then we'll continue bleeding money and resources with no ROI."
"Ok I see what you mean. And an added benefit of this is without product it'll put pressure on the factions. Causing them to wanna help get this situation handled to cut their water back on and put the hammer down on their workers. But what's to stop them from finding another plug?"
Jeryko's face went cold. "Anyone who chooses to leave will accept the fact they are an enemy of me personally. And there is no greater enemy than myself."
"I've been waiting for that fire to come out." Damian smirks at his brother and the two cheers clinking glasses. "Leave it to me. I'll get to it."
"I'll warn the rest of our family. I didn't before because I wasn't sure if it was warranted. But we don't need any more of us blindsided," Jeryko said.
***BLUE MOON SECTOR***
The chamber reeked of iron and smoke. Eight thrones curved around a pit of fire, flames throwing jagged shadows across the black stone walls.
Damian entered late with a lazy confident stride. In his hand, he dragged a corpse, its limbs dangling. When he let it drop into the firelight, the body rolled to reveal the gaping hole burrowed through its chest.
Reese's grin faltered. His coat rippled as he leaned forward. "Damn, you really brought him here?" His voice was equal parts laugh and grit. "You puttin' my boy center stage—like a billboard?" His grin came back, thinner, tighter. "You wild for that, D."
One of the other warlords shifted uncomfortably. Then Eritrea's lips curved, her red serpent eyes flashing with curiosity. She tilted her head, long black hair spilling like liquid silk over her shoulder. "And that scar..." she said smoothly, her tone sharp enough to cut the silence. "Don't tell me the same thing that killed your vampire left its mark on you too."
The room turned. All eyes fixed on Damian.
He tapped the jagged line across his eye with one finger.
"The same kind of weapon that burned a hole through his heart carved this into my face. It's some sort of plant vampires are allergic too. It renders our regeneration and immortality pointless."
The Grave Diggers fell quiet, the weight of his words felt heavy. Even Reese—half-smirking from his throne—let his cockiness slip into something tighter, his eyes locked on the corpse.
"Also, Oro has been killed," Damian said.
Reese chuckled low, shaking his head. "Oro's gone, vamps getting smoked, and even you're taking heat. We also have people on the inside leaking information. This is a god damn shit show. But you know I've been ready to step up. Oro's chair? Give me that, and I'll run it better than he ever did."
"That's the reason I brought you here." Damian's gaze lingered on him, then flicked back to the corpse. "You got your promotion. Welcome to the Grave Diggers. Fill his shoes, or drown in them but if you fail your life goes with it."
Reese's grin returned wide. "Bet. Hate to see Oro drop like that, but business doesn't wait for grief."
Eritrea sat back crossing one leg over the other, glass in hand. Her lips curved into a mocking smile. "And what about me, DarKai? I gave you daughters. Carai and Zoey carry your blood. I've given more than any person in this room, yet I sit beneath them. I should be above them all."
Damian's smirk darkened. "Don't mistake being in bed for a throne. You want the top spot shorty? Take it for yourself."
Her smile faltered slightly.
Damian turned to the table kicking his feet. "Oro is gone. Betrayal festers in our ranks and Jeryko left it up to me to handle. So I will find it, and cut it out."
A tense silence occurred. Then he leaned forward, tone colder.
"And from this moment forward... supply is frozen. Whatever product you have, sell it. But nothing moves through my pipelines until this situation is handled."
A low growl erupted. Graal of the Titan Forge — a tusked giant plated in molten steel — slammed a fist down, cracking the table. "Cut us off, and you cut our throats! My armies starve without that flow! We need more weapons! You'll kill us all!"
Damian blurred. One instant he was at the table, the next standing over Graal, his hand buried in the warlord's chest splattering blood everywhere. He ripped his heart heart out, held it up, then squeezed until it burst across the floor.
The thrones froze. Silence but for the crackle of fire.
Damian turned back slowly, voice steady as if nothing had happened. "Disobedience equals death. That's the first one."
Across the table, Cyph — leaned forward, trembling with rage. "You accuse us without proof. Threaten us without reason. Don't think I'll bow."
Damian sighs rolling his eyes. His smirk sharpened. "Ok. Maybe I wasn't clear."
In a blink, Cyph's head leapt from her shoulders, rolling across the table until it stopped in Eritrea's lap.
Blood splattered in the fire causing smoke.
Damian wiped his hands on Cyph's cloak, then leaned on the table, his gaze sweeping the survivors one by one.
"Betrayal ends here, in this room. I am starting from the top. The rest of you have your lives. Try to keep them. You're all still breathing because I allow it."
No one spoke. No one moved. Only the fire crackled, and the scent of blood hung thick in the war room.
Damian's gaze held each of them for a heartbeat longer. Then, without another word, he said: "You're dismissed."
The warlords rose and left silently, careful to avoid his wrath.
Reese lingered a step behind, still studying the corpse. "D... You're gonna have to find two more seats at the table. Why'd you do that?"
Damian's lips curved into a faint, dark smile. "Because they needed see I mean business. And now they know I will not hesitate to kill anyone I think for even a second is not on board. That goes for you too."
Reese nodded slowly, a shadow of unease flickering across his features, but the grin remained. "Message received."
"Now I have one task for you." Damian crosses his arms. A serious look crept on his face. "Since you have Oro's seat you recruit people now. I want you to pay our boy Rytisu a visit. I haven't heard from him in a few months. "
But then, a pulse hit him.
A tremor through Damian's senses, subtle at first, like a heartbeat out of sync with the universe. He froze. Thats where Jeryko's headed, he thought.
"Yo D," Reese said touching his shoulder. "You good?"
Damian looks up.
Reese walked closer only to be told to stay back.
Damian's signature smirk was gone. Blood was the only thing coursing through his mind. In a burst of flames he rockets through the ceiling entering outer space. Planets, stars, entire galaxies turn to nothing as he crossed them in mere moments.
***PLANET NOCTIS***
High above the void of space drifted an asteroid no larger than half of Gia itself, its jagged surface scarred with ancient craters and streaked with veins of glowing obsidian. Suspended in the endless black, it carried the unmistakable weight of history, its very mass humming with power.
Atop the meteor perched a castle so vast it seemed alive. Its towers spiraled like obsidian fangs into the void, their sharp points slicing through the cosmic dark. Gothic spires crowned the highest towers, tipped with black metal that caught distant starlight in fleeting flashes of violet and crimson. Walls of onyx stone, etched with runes older than most of creation, surrounded the fortress like a crown of shadows. Bridges of carved obsidian arched between towers, their surfaces engraved with scenes of forgotten wars—the eternal chronicles of vampire-kind carved in immortal stone.
The castle's gates, carved from a single monolith, bore sigils that warned trespassers that death would greet them long before mercy ever could. The air above the fortress was thick, alive with unseen power—an ancient dominion that even light dared not defy.
This was Noctis, Dracula's throne, a bastion of immortality adrift in the endless dark. Time had no dominion here. The living and the dead existed side by side, the past whispering endlessly through its corridors.
Within the throne hall, vampires of old blood stood assembled beneath chandeliers forged from bone and starlight. Their gazes were low, their postures reverent. Silence hung like ritual.
Then, the great doors opened.
A sound vast and slow rolled through the chamber. Shadows twisted. Power—pure and suffocating—flooded the air. And without command, every vampire in the court fell to one knee. Some in reverence. Others in fear.
Jeryko had returned.
He moved through the hall calmly. Ten thousand years old, and yet his aura eclipsed the ancients around him. He spoke no word, offered no glance to the kneeling. His presence alone was acknowledgment enough.
Dracula sat upon his throne of black stone veined with crimson light, a stillness about him that made the vast chamber feel smaller. His long dark hair framed a pale, unreadable face; crimson eyes gleamed faintly beneath the flicker of ancient runes etched into his cloak. Every breath he took carried authority.
Beside him stood Chance, broad-shouldered and silent, his golden hair catching the dim light. His chocolate eyes were steady, sharp with focus, the calm of a predator waiting for command. He was the strongest of Dracula's commanders, and his oldest son.
Dracula's gaze rose before Jeryko even spoke.
"Jeryko," he greeted, his tone laced with warmth. "It has been a millennium. No herald, no notice, no echo through the dark—and yet when you arrive. The court remembers."
Jeryko stopped several paces before the throne, his face unreadable. "It's been a while."
Chance moved his head slightly. Dracula's expression softened just enough to betray fondness.
"You didn't cross dimensional rifts to exchange pleasantries," Dracula said.
Jeryko's gaze lifted, the faintest shimmer of light passing across his eyes. "There's a new force moving through the lower systems. They call themselves the Stryx."
At the name, the air seemed to still. Dracula's composure did not waver—but his gaze deepened.
"The Stryx..." he murmured, almost to himself. "So the old vulture still draws breath."
Jeryko remained stoic, showing only the smallest sign of intrigue. "You recognize them?"
"I do," Dracula replied. "Balphomet. A rival too arrogant to remain dead it seems."
Jeryko folded his hands behind his back. "They've developed something—a poison of some kind. It kills vampires. The thorns wrapped around their weapon halts our regeneration. Burns at the touch."
Chance's expression sharpened. "You're certain?"
"I don't deal in uncertainty," Jeryko answered. "Our brother's face is proof. It's no doubt among us he has the strongest healing factor. And yet even with his evolutionary abilities this weapon left a scar that refuses to heal on his eye. He can't adapt past it. Or at least not now." His voice dropped, quiet but cutting. "Nova also witnessed a dead vampire herself."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Dracula rose slowly, walking down the steps. His cloak dragging behind him. "Then it begins," he said. "The death they've sought for us finally takes shape. I've been planning for this. It's why I trained you boys to not rely on brute strength alone. Strategy and intelligence plays a big part in war."
Jeryko's gaze didn't waver. His tone carried no fear, no emotion—only the truth. "I came here to ensure you were aware."
Dracula studied him, the faintest smile ghosting his lips. "You crossed universes not to join forces, but to protect those who need none."
Jeryko's eyes flickered faintly, the closest he came to reaction. "Need is subjective."
Dracula chuckles. "Indeed." But that laughter faded. The hall steeped again in its ritual stillness. He turned toward the mural etched behind his throne—a vast obsidian relief depicting the fall of heaven and hell at the birth of vampires.
"Balphomet," he said, the name like an old wound reopening. "The Devil of Calamity. One of Hell's wardens, a craftsman of catastrophe. His intellect is sharper than any blade forged in Heaven's light. When the divine made order, he made the flaw within it. Entire kingdoms fell because he whispered once."
Dracula's gaze traced the image of a horned figure carved into the wall—wings torn, yet smiling amid ruin.
"He thrives on structure. He dismantles faith, twists reason, and feeds on certainty. No battlefield ever contained his wars; his frontlines are minds."
Chance stood at his father's side. "If the Stryx are his pawns again, they'll strike from within. He's too patient for open conflict."
Dracula inclined his head slightly. "You remember well, my son."
"They've infiltrated our ranks, turned our allies against us. We've been snuffing them out one by one," Jeryko said. "It was Damian who peeped the strategy before it was entirely to late."
"How is he doing?" Dracula asks.
"He's fine," Jeryko said.
"Well," Dracula murmured, "when Balphomet faced me, he fell. It was inevitable then, it will be again."
Jeryko's gaze rose to meet his father's. "Of course it will."
Dracula's eyes narrowed slightly. "You sound certain."
"I am," Jeryko replied. His tone was composed, absolute. "As long as I stand among us, defeat doesn't exist. The outcome was decided the moment he chose to stand against me."
Chance's mouth twitched, half a smirk, half acknowledgment. "You never change."
"There's no need to," Jeryko said, voice even. "The flaw in every war is predictability. Damian was caught because he's grown lazy and to egotistical. Him being unaware of this threat wasn't the issue. It won't happen again. I'm here to make sure of it."
Dracula regarded him for a long, silent moment—then smiled faintly. "Confidence such as yours is dangerous."
"It's only dangerous," Jeryko said, "when it's misplaced. For I am the exception to any rule."
The elder vampire's expression softened into something almost proud. "Then I trust it never will be."
Jeryko looked to the mural once more, then back to his father. "You'll need to prepare before—"
Everyone stopped.
It was dead silent.
In what seemed like a rush of flame Damian enters loudly unbothered by the silence in the room.
"I know we all felt that aura. He's taunting us," Damian said with a bit of laughter. "I'm sure you guys didn't mind, but I took out a third of what I saw on the way here."
"You engaged them already?" Dracula ask.
"Your welcome," Damian said dapping his big brother up. "Chance, I see you're still foo."
"I get it from you," Chance replies. "Only foo people get fucked up so bad they have permanent scar on they face."
"Shut—the fuck up!" Damian laughs. "They're traveling pretty fast. I'm assuming you'll are going to come up with a plan."
"There's at least a million vampires stationed on this meteor right now," Jeryko said. "Enough to cause a distraction. If they're coming here it's obvious they're coming for our father."
"Agreed. We haven't had time to brief everyone yet. So I'll take care of it via psychic link." Chance's jaw tightened slightly, accepting the silent nod from Dracula that gave him authority. "You'll on board."
Jeryko sighs. "I'll mobilize our troops."
Damian's grin widened, amused. He jets to the front door.
"Hold on." Jeryko walks over to him. "The fleet on the outside is massive, likely filled with more soldiers baring that poison. I want you to standby and await my arrival."
"Fuck off! I ain't waiting for shit!" Sparks fly from Damian's teeth. "Who do you think your talking too? It almost sounds like your worried about me."
"No. You have a tendency to hog all the murder for yourself," Jeryko said. "With an aura that strong it's likely Baphomet has come here to do the job himself."
"Don't worry I won't kill him immediately." Damian looks out the window seeing that it begun to rain. "Fuck. I hate fighting in the rain."
Dracula steps between his sons. "You aren't going to wait and here the plan?"
"You mean listen to you'll yap about a strategy that doesn't matter. The weapon they carry won't matter if they aren't strong enough to use it and no one is stronger than myself," Damian remarks before walking away. "Save your strategies for the weaklings. I'll crush them myself. Just stay 'outta my way."
"It is exactly that kinda thinking that has that scar on your face," Dracula said.
Damian ignored him, aiming to prove his father wrong.
Chance and Jeryko look at each other.
Jeryko sighs. "Believe it or not I think that scar did give him a wake up call. He lost his focus. It's been five thousand years since he's found a worthy adversary. He was once in a flow state. He lost it. But now he's back. He'll be fine. Let's mobilize the other vampires. It's not us I'm worried about. But if we're going to protect this place we might as well give our sire lines a fighting chance with a decent strategy."
***
The sky above Noctis cracked open, streaked with burning light.
Stryx warships broke through the upper orbit, blocking out the stars. The hum of their engines echoed across the meteor like thunder.
Below, a legion of vampires waited in the dim light with their magic ready. The air vibrated with tension and hunger. The once undying mow faced fear of mortal turmoil.
High above them, on the cliff's edge, stood the three brothers.
Flash backs of their previous battles occurred. It made Chance smile. Once again he stood beside his younger siblings.
"Feels like forever since we've fought together," he said.
"That's because it has been," Damian responded.
Jeryko looked on at the opposing fleet. "We never fought together out of necessity, but because our father wanted us to. No matter how strong we are we can't be in every place at once despite one of us being able to take out this heard of insects."
"We've grown so strong strategy lost its meaning." Damian crossed his arms, his grin was sharp seeing the thick wave of red mana.
"Thinking like that is why you're face is fucked up." Chance laughed hitting Damian's arm. "You planning to go rouge this time?"
"Oh shut up teachers pet!" Damian laughed. "I told you I got you for now."
Jeryko's gaze remained fixed ahead, voice steady. "Focus. Their numbers outmatch ours fifteen to one."
"Good," Damian muttered, green flame sprouting from his body. "Wouldn't be fun otherwise."
The first volley hit—white lances of energy slamming into the fields below. The explosion shook the cliff. Vampires scattered, taking flight in all directions.
Damian stepped forward, his grin widening. "Showtime faggots!"
He jumped. Fire stringing from where he was initially standing like a rocket.
The cliff shattered beneath the force. Flames spiraled around him as he dropped, the air rippling from his descent. He hit the ground like a meteor.
The shockwave flattened everything within reach. Stryx soldiers barely had time to raise their weapons before he was among them.
Damian moved swiftly. One step, and a soldier's head hit the ground. A twist, and another burned alive. He caught a spear mid-swing, spun it, and impaled two more in the same motion.
A cluster surrounded him, weapons humming with that deadly poison. He ducked under a thrust, drove his knee into one soldier's chest, grabbed another by the arm, and used the body like a shield against a volley of magic.
The ground lit up beneath his feet, glowing trails of green flame tracing each movement.
More soldiers dropped from above, slamming into the ground in synchronized formation. Damian rolled his shoulders.
"Woah! Woah! Woah! There's enough of me to go around you guys."
He slammed his hand into the ground. A wave of fire burst outward—shaping into a serpent that roared through their ranks, burning everything in its path. The air filled with smoke and screams.
Still he didn't stop. He blurred through the haze, fists coated in flame, tearing through the enemy line faster than they could comprehend. Spears snapped, armor crushed, bodies turned to ash.
Up above, Chance exhaled with a sigh. "He's gonna burn the whole front line by himself."
"That's his job," Jeryko said.
Chance stepped off the cliff and Jeryko followed seconds later, his descent silent as shadow.
Chance landed in a burst of pressure, the air cracking around him. Vampires below felt their minds pull into focus as his psychic link spread across the battlefield—orders, positioning, timing—all synchronized in an instant.
Jeryko hit the ground with no sound at all. Soldiers within a hundred feet simply dropped, their bodies crushed by the weight of strength voids aura alone.
The three brothers stood amid the chaos—fire, blood, and metal clashing around them. Above, the fleet's main cannon began to charge, glowing with a sickly red light.
Damian looked up, fire still flickering across his shoulders.
"Here we go," he muttered, eyes narrowing. As soldiers him Damian waves his hand across the ground drawing a line with fire. The flames stood twenty feet tall and surrounded the entirety of Dracula's castle. All who walk through would disintegrate.
Screams of agony and the smell of smoke and burnt flesh begin filling the air. Smiling, Damian summersaults and upon landing he roars showing his fangs. All soldiers coming forth felt his pressure.
"Kill them!!!" they screams.
Damian rockets forth smashing through a group of soldiers sending hundreds sky high and others across the ground. He then turns punching through another and spins kicking one more. As more soldiers surround him, Damian continues to counter and destroy them one by one in rapid succession.
"Vamp Dragon," Damian roars turning to his right. His fist set ablaze. Heat emerges melting some of his adversaries before he even launches his attack. "Cannon fist!!"
Blasting from his fist was a torrent of flames spiraling like a tornado burrowing its way out into the air destroying several ships sinking them to the ground. In a rage he turns blasting more fire.
"Balphomet didn't give him enough credit. He's even more monstrous than we were told! Hurry with another air strike!" a soldier said.
"It won't matter!" Damian blast fire from his feet rocketing in the air. At faster than light speeds he takes out several battle ships exploding them all. As he hung in the air falling gracefully, he saw a drozom flying his way. A bat-like creature with four wings.
Now flames burst from Damian's feet shooting him towards his enemy.
"Is lightning release?" the soldier said as Damian shouted igniting his fist blue in electricity.
As Damian got closer his lightning turned black and he shot a blast that not only blew apart the face of the drozom, but sent other bolts of electricity as a chain reaction striking several other drozom. In that very moment in only a fraction of a second he sensed a resistance to normal lightning attacks and adapted on the fly.
Now cupping his hands falling, Damian twirls channeling a scarlet blaze. He thrust his arms forward, "Hakaisen!" he yells firing a beam of highly radioactive atomic flames.
BOOM!!
The drozom melts rapidly screeching as it falls to its death. Next flipping onto another's head, Damian leaps forward changing his hand into diamond connecting his fist across a soldier's jaw breaking it while producing a huge explosion of electricity.
Damian was showing why he is not only the ace of Babylon—the invincible founder who cannot lose, but the strongest commander in Dracula's army during his time. He continued to rage—killing hundreds more soldiers, drozom, and exploding spacecrafts. His fire burned the very sky itself making it tough to breathe. Annihilating everything and everyone in his path, the alpha vampire showed no mercy. Merely the smell of blood made him stronger, and he loved every minute of it, unable to stop his rampage.
"C'mon, send me a challenge!!" Damian laughs maniacally while stomping on the head of a soldier splattering her head.
The battlefield was chaos. The Stryx advanced in precise formations, their weapons cutting through vampires easily.
Damian stood in the center of it all roaring, fire rolling off his body in waves. He sounded like a beast. The ear-splitting roar made the ground shudder and the sky itself quiver. It carried raw, predatory fury leaving all who heard it frozen in terror.
Every attempt to stop him caused instant adaptation that resulted in their deaths.
Above the roar, Chance's voice echoed through the minds of every vampire soldier.
Form up. Third line, shift left. Don't let them circle the crater, he said.
A ring of runes flared beneath his feet—gold, crimson, then deep blue. He extended both hands and unleashed a pulse of force that bent the air like glass. The magic shattered outward, erasing half a squad of soldiers mid-charge. Then, without pause, he switched—fire to lightning, lightning to gravity, each spell chained together flawlessly.
Bolts rained from the sky, dragging the enemy ships down by gravitational pull. Chance raised his hand again, twisting his wrist; the ground split open, tendrils of magma shooting skyward. His movements were different than Damian. Every spell cast was calculated for maximum efficiency all without touching his brothers' range.
Meanwhile, Jeryko stood alone. Hands in his pockets. His aura fluctuated, a wind current spun around him pulling all supernatural energy towards him with the expansion of his range.
As it spread, the nearest Stryx stumbled. Their magic weapons fizzled, their daqui shields blinked out, and every soldier caught inside dropped to their knees. The light around them drained.
Jeryko looks upward. He saw the enemy switching positions. "They're adapting fast."
Chance's voice cut through the link. "Then force them closer."
Jeryko's void pulsed again expanding wider. The Stryx screamed as their energy was siphoned away.
With the new energy gathered, he condensed what he'd taken. The air cracked—and then exploded outward in a single beam of condensed violet energy, cutting through an entire platoon.
Damian laughed from the other side of the battlefield. "Now that's more like it Lil Jerry!"
He leapt into the blast zone, flames flaring bright enough to blind. His punch landed in the middle of the wreckage, detonating it in a burst of jade fire. The ground shook, fissures racing outward like veins. Vampires surged behind him, their roars shaking the air as they tore through the broken Stryx ranks.
From above, Chance layered another spell. His eyes glowed gold this time—storm sigils circling his wrists. "Lux Tempestas."
A lightning storm descended, striking only where his mind willed. Each bolt wrapped around Damian's flames, feeding them, amplifying every movement into an explosion. Together, they carved through thousands.
"Keep pushing!" Chance shouted through the psychic link. "Jeryko, seal their flank!"
"Already done." Jeryko's void expanded again, pulling at the Stryx troops on the outer rim. Their attempts to retreat turned into screams as their magic signatures flickered out—absorbed entirely. Then, with a faint motion, he redirected it. A vortex of their own power slammed into their remaining ships, bursting them apart in a silent flash.
By now, the Stryx command had realized the pattern. Their soldiers began taking wider formations, avoiding Jeryko's radius, targeting Chance's position with precision beams from orbit.
Chance raised a crystal like barrier. The beams hit and scattered harmlessly. He lowered his hand, eyes sharp now. "They're learning."
Damian crushed another soldier under his boot, wiping blood from his jaw. "Not like it matters—we've been holding back anyway."
From a distance the clouds parted.
The Stryx ships shifted formation. Something larger was descending.
Jeryko turned his head back toward the sky. "Three new energies emerged."
Chance felt it too—the auras bent the air around them.
Damian just grinned. "Finally."
The battlefield stilled. The Stryx remained resilient despite them getting crushed by the Skyfather's.
And now with their commanders arrival, the battle just might turn in their favor.