The aftershock of the collision between shadow energy and holy light lingered in the storage chamber. Shards of broken vial glass mingled with the corpses of vampire thralls, glinting with a cold luster under the residual dim glow of the Kiss of Shadow. Father Thorne stumbled back two steps, a charred gash tearing through the shoulder of his white robe to reveal bleeding flesh beneath. His fingers, clamped around his staff, whitened with exertion, and the holy light at the staff's tip flickered unsteadily—clear evidence that the earlier clash had left him badly shaken.
"Heresy spawn! How dare you defile the holy light!" Thorne's snarl shattered the silence. He slammed his staff hard against the ground, sending a ripple of holy light spreading outward from its tip. Wherever the ripple passed, the shadow aura surrounding Len sizzled as if scorched. Kaelan moved to intervene, but Thorne whipped three holy light talismans from his sleeve. The talismans transformed mid-air into three spinning wheels of light, targeting Len's throat, heart, and knees respectively—this was the Coven's "Triple Purification Seal," designed to strike at the vital points of shadow creatures.
Len's pupils contracted sharply. Instinctively, he channeled his Shadowstep, his form dissolving into a wisp of smoke that drifted left. The first light wheel grazed his shoulder guard and struck the stone wall behind him, erupting in a blinding flash. By the time the second wheel came hurtling in, Len had clamped a hand around the Kiss of Shadow and held it across his chest. The dagger's dim glow collided with the holy light, showering the air with sparks. Seizing this momentary delay, he pushed off the ground, leveraging the explosive power of his werewolf blood to leap into the air. As he evaded the third light wheel, he poured all his Dark Essence into the dagger.
"Shadow Entanglement!" Len growled. The instant he swung the dagger, countless threads of shadow burst from its blade, weaving into a massive black net that descended over Thorne. Thorne's face paled. He hastily planted his staff upright, conjuring a thick holy light barrier. But this time, Len gave him no chance to catch his breath—riding the momentum of his fall, faint gray fur sprouted on his right knee, and he drove it into the edge of the barrier with the feral strength of a werewolf.
There was a dull "thud." The holy light barrier cracked under the combined pull of the shadow net and the wolf-like kick. Thorne spat up blood, and the barrier shattered. Len pressed his advantage, closing in until the tip of the Kiss of Shadow was mere inches from Thorne's forehead. But Thorne's eyes flashed with malice—he suddenly thrust his staff forward, and its tip snapped off, revealing a hidden holy light dagger aimed straight at Len's abdomen.
"Look out!" Kaelan's warning rang out. Already, Len had used Shadowstep's afterimage to twist sideways. The holy light dagger grazed his waist, leaving a bleeding gash. The sharp pain slowed his movements just long enough for Thorne to roll backward and put distance between them. He pulled a glowing red rune from his robes, crushed it in his fist, and it transformed into a blood-red portal. He shot Len a venomous glare. "Mark my words, shadow spawn! The Coven will purge you and all dark filth!" With that, he vanished into the portal.
Len clutched his waist wound, watching the portal close. His breath came in ragged gasps. Though the fight had lasted mere seconds, it had taught him the limits of his power—his Dark Essence and werewolf blood, though awkwardly paired, created an unexpectedly overwhelming effect, and the Kiss of Shadow was the key that bound these two forces together. Kaelan knelt to examine the holy spear in the thrall's chest; his fingertips smoked slightly when they touched the metal. He frowned and stood, his silver hair cutting a cold line in the dimness.
"This is the Coven's Purification Spear," Kaelan said, his voice grave. "Thorne's access to such weaponry means he holds a high rank in the Coven. Worse, the residual holy light will act like a beacon, drawing more Coven members here. We must evacuate within a quarter hour."
Len gripped the Kiss of Shadow, calming the roiling Essence within him. The obsidian hilt still retained the warmth of its clash with holy light. He glanced down at the silver locket in his palm—the token of his heritage that Kaelan had just given him. The raven crest on its lid glinted faintly in the dim light, the exclusive symbol of House Camilla. The name of his father, Corvis Camilla, the silver eyes of his mother, Elia, the flames of that Blood Moon night—these fragments swirled in his mind, filling his chest with the heat of vengeance and the confusion of a newly revealed identity.
"Evacuate to where?" Len looked up, the dark patterns in his pupils still fading. "Eternal Dusk is infiltrated by the Coven, and the Black Forest is crawling with their scouts."
Kaelan walked to the wall and shoved hard at a seemingly fixed stone relief, revealing a narrow secret door just wide enough for one person. A damp breeze drifted through, carrying the scent of earth and dead leaves. "A hidden stronghold of House Camilla, in Moonshadow Valley deep within the Black Forest. It's protected by ancient shadow wards that the Coven's holy light detectors can't penetrate. More importantly, it holds your father's collection of books—they might unlock all the secrets of the Dark Essence."
Len followed Kaelan through the door. The narrow passage was pitch-black, so he instinctively channeled his Dark Essence, wrapping himself in a faint black glow that illuminated the path ahead. Kaelan moved with steady, practiced steps—clearly familiar with the tunnel. As they walked, he murmured, "You fought well, but you rely too much on the Kiss of Shadow. True mastery of shadow isn't driven by tools; it's about fusing the Essence with your very being."
No sooner had he spoken than Kaelan stepped sideways, flicking a thin thread of shadow from his fingertip to catch a loose stone falling from the ceiling. "Like this," he said, twisting his wrist. The stone, wrapped in shadow, flew to the tunnel wall and slid neatly into a hollow. "Your father could command both blood and shadow because he achieved perfect fusion. And you, as a werewolf-vampire hybrid, carry dual bloodlines that are the key to mastering the Essence—you just need to learn how to unlock them."
Len's heart skipped a beat. He remembered the way short fur had sprouted on his body when he was beaten by werewolf boys in the Eternal Dusk slums, the faint howl he'd heard when he first awakened Shadowstep. Those traits he'd once seen as marks of his "mongrel" status were actually sources of power?
Faint light appeared at the end of the passage. Kaelan lifted a vine-covered exit, stepping out into the depths of the Black Forest. Moonlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting dappled silver patterns on the ground. The air smelled of pine needles, a stark contrast to the stench of blood in the outpost. Kaelan pointed to a valley shrouded in mist in the distance—its purple haze was the telltale sign of a shadow ward.
"Three more miles and we'll be there," Kaelan said—then froze, listening intently to sounds from deeper in the forest. Len tensed too; his werewolf hearing, sharpened by his awakening, picked up roars and clashing metal miles away. The noise was raw with rage and agony, nothing like the Coven's disciplined combat style.
"Werewolves," Len said grimly. "And they're fighting among themselves."
Realization dawned in Kaelan's crimson eyes. "No wonder the Coven only sent Thorne—they're deliberately fanning civil war among the werewolves to distract us. For six months, the Coven has been infiltrating werewolf territories, using the lie of 'purifying shadow' to rally radicals against tribes that refuse to submit." He turned to Len, his tone tentative. "Werewolves have always rejected hybrids, but you still carry half their blood. If we can end this civil war, we might gain unexpected allies."
Len recalled being driven out of Eternal Dusk by werewolves, their sneers and cries of "mongrel" still fresh in his memory. But he also remembered the sharp hearing and explosive strength his werewolf blood had granted him in battle—an innate power, a bridge between two warring races. He tightened his grip on the Kiss of Shadow, its glow echoing the dark patterns in his pupils.
"Let's investigate," Len decided. "I can't stand by while the Coven manipulates them. And—" he paused, his voice steady with resolve "—I'll show them that being a hybrid isn't a disgrace. It's the power that will end this chaos."
Approval flashed in Kaelan's eyes. He summoned a shadow barrier, masking their presence completely. "Follow me—I know a shortcut. Remember: werewolves respect strength above all, but they hate betrayal more than anything. Our goal isn't conquest; it's exposing the truth."
The two melted into the Black Forest's shadows, racing toward the sound of battle. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, leaving two intertwined trails in their wake—one graceful as a vampire's, the other agile as a werewolf's. Len could feel his Dark Essence resonating with his blood, a surge of power he'd never known coursing through his veins. He knew that from the moment he had claimed the Kiss of Shadow, his life was no longer about fleeing to survive. It was about forging balance, protecting the vulnerable, and unleashing a cross-racial storm that would change everything.
The werewolves' howls grew louder, mingling with the Coven's chants. A conflict that would decide the werewolves' fate was about to unfold beneath the Black Forest's moonlight—and Len, the hybrid scorned by both races, would be the one to tip the scales. The prologue to the Shadow Pact was being written, right here, right now.