Darkness still hung over Lilywood. The whimpers of death echoed in the air, and a layer of ash settled on everything that once teemed with life. But far from this devastation, in a dense and ancient forest, where the screams of Lilywood's tragedy could barely reach, a figure stood on the highest branch of a massive oak tree. This tree was so old that its roots seemed to be embedded in Alaria's history, and its height was such that its peaks touched the clouds.
The figure gazed at Lilywood's burning remnants with cold, desolate eyes. He stood approximately seven feet tall, his body lean yet muscular, and he was completely draped in a heavy black cloak that swayed gently in the wind. The contours of his face were hidden in the darkness, only the red glow of his eyes visible, so deep that they seemed to contain centuries of sorrow and cruelty. The figure appeared neither despondent nor angry; just a deep, calm calculation on his face.
This was none other than the King of Vampires, Dracula. Everything that had happened in Lilywood was at his command. He silently sent a mental signal to his vampires in Lilywood—'Return. Your search here is over.' It was a psychic message that only the most loyal and powerful vampires of his species could understand. In the blink of an eye, the remaining vampires in Lilywood began to dissolve into the air, becoming invisible as they took flight, directly towards their master. Their speed was such that no human could detect their movement.
Dracula watched them approach, without any expression. His mind was constantly working, analyzing the consequences of the devastation in Lilywood. There was a strange glint in his eyes, as if he was seeing something beyond ordinary sight. His centuries of wisdom and experience told him that his search was not yet over.
In his mind, Dracula thought:
"If I had found that thing today, nothing could have stopped me from conquering Alaria. Not even Emperor Draconius. I would have killed him and taken his place."
Dracula's goal had always been the complete dominion of Alaria. He was not just a vampire king, but a living legend in Alaria's history, whose powers and intellect were unparalleled. For centuries, he had dreamed of bringing this world under his control. But he knew that to do so, he would need an immeasurable power that he did not yet possess. That power, which he called the "Final Relic," had been hidden for centuries. It was not just an object, but an energy woven into the very fabric of Alaria, and whoever acquired it could become the true ruler of this world.
He believed that the Final Relic was hidden in Lilywood. He had studied ancient prophecies and lost texts, and all of them mentioned Lilywood. What could be in this small, ordinary village that could change the fate of Alaria? Dracula had pondered this question for years. He had sent his spies to Lilywood; they had spent years studying the people and their habits there, but found nothing extraordinary. Still, the prophecies were unyielding.
"It's only a matter of time," Dracula whispered, his voice quieter than the rustling of leaves. "The Final Relic cannot hide from me."
He knew there were other powers in Alaria that could stand in his way. Werewolves, the eternal rivals of his vampire empire, and the Ancient Mage Guild, known for maintaining magical balance. But none of these were equal to the power he sought. He knew that if he found that relic, he could easily crush them all.
Suddenly, a cold wind blew, and his vampire soldiers arrived near him, hovering in the air around the giant tree. One of them, their leader, bowed respectfully before his master.
"Master," the leader's voice was a whisper, "We found nothing in Lilywood. That thing wasn't there."
Dracula closed his eyes. "I know." There was no disappointment in his voice, just an acceptance. "It was a minor error in my calculations. But it cannot stop me."
He opened his red eyes and looked across the forest, towards the distant horizon, where Lilywood's burning remnants still left trails of smoke. For humans like Marcus, this was just a village massacre, but for Dracula, it was merely a failed investigation. To him, the people of Lilywood were just pawns, sacrificed to achieve his goal.
"Perhaps it's hidden in a more secure place than I anticipated," Dracula thought. "Or perhaps... it has transformed into something I didn't expect."
A new idea flashed in his mind. Could this Final Relic be not an object, but a person? Or perhaps some emotion or knowledge passed down through generations? This thought revolved in his mind, opening a new path.
"We will search other parts of Alaria," Dracula commanded his vampires, a new resolve now in his voice. "But this time, we will be more cautious. We will leave no further evidence."
His gaze once again fell upon the ruins of Lilywood. He knew that some, perhaps some survivors, would try to seek revenge against him. But Dracula didn't care. To him, these were minor obstacles, easily crushed. A single human like Marcus was no threat to his vast empire.
Dracula descended from the tree, his cloak rustling softly in the air. His vampires flew behind him. They dissolved into the darkness, in search of prey still untouched by their hands. Alaria's fate was in Dracula's hands, and he was willing to do anything to bend it to his will. The tragedy of Lilywood was just a prelude. The real game was about to begin.
Marcus, having sworn revenge for his lost family and village, and Dracula, moving towards his goal of unlimited power. When and how their paths will cross will determine the fate of Alaria.
Will Marcus ever reach Dracula, or will he be lost in his journey of revenge?