"Why are you doing this? We've done nothing to provoke you," the old man rasped, his long white hair matted with blood as it trailed across the stone floor. His face was bruised and swollen, yet he maintained a sliver of defiance in his eyes as he lay beneath the towering figure of a woman.
She stood with her muscular frame casting a shadow over him, her foot pressing down on his chest, holding him in place.
She smiled, a grin filled with malice, yet her voice was disconcertingly soft and almost playful, in stark contrast to her brutal appearance. "Why? Because you're weak," she said, her voice laced with cruelty. "You can curse your fate all you want, but in the end, it's your own weakness that led you here."
The old man, the Sect Master of the Imperial Sect, winced at the weight crushing down on him. Once, he had been a man of respect and power, assuming the role of de facto emperor after the Royal Family of the Lovigary Empire mysteriously abandoned their throne. For a time, he thought he could keep control, but the empire's three major clans had quickly grown restless.
Before they could rise up against him, however, an unexpected terror descended.
The kingdom had been besieged by twelve figures, each one more fearsome than the last. Beings from different races, each exuding overwhelming power, had appeared out of nowhere, wreaking havoc unlike anything the empire had ever seen.
He groaned under the woman's foot, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. His eyes flicked toward the other twelve invaders who stood around the shattered remnants of his palace, each a pillar of terrifying strength. Despair filled his gaze as he realized the futility of their resistance. The Imperial Sect and the entire empire he had sought to rule had been torn asunder in a matter of hours.
The woman looked down at him, her grin widening as she shifted her weight slightly, making him wince in pain. "This empire, your sect—it's all gone. You were never meant to be in power. But don't worry, I'll make sure your end is quick... or maybe I won't."
Saryna's lips barely curled into the hint of a smirk, but it quickly vanished as her eyes hardened. "Let's move," she snapped, turning on her heel, her long cloak billowing behind her. Without another word, she strode away from the carnage, leaving Ulthra to trail behind, still chuckling to herself.
As Saryna and Ulthra walked down the dimly lit street, they hadn't gone far when they spotted a vampire feasting on a woman's neck. His crimson eyes gleamed in the dark as he drank deeply, savoring the blood. Once satisfied, he carelessly tossed her limp body aside like a discarded rag and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Are we moving or what?" the vampire, named Varek, asked, his voice rough and casual, as if the violent act he had just committed was nothing more than a routine.
Saryna barely glanced at him, her expression cold and unreadable. "Yes. Use your telepathic link to call the others. We need to regroup at the Imperial Palace." Her tone was calm but commanding, leaving no room for argument.
Varek's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a snarl as he glared at her, clearly displeased by being ordered around. His fangs glistened in the moonlight, and a low growl rumbled from his chest. He was used to being feared, to commanding respect, and Saryna's dismissive tone grated on his nerves.
But Saryna didn't even slow her pace. She walked past him as if he were nothing more than a shadow in her path, her gaze fixed ahead, completely unfazed by his hostile glare. To her, Varek's posturing was irrelevant, like a gust of wind—something she could ignore entirely.
Ulthra, walking behind Saryna, smirked at Varek's frustration. Her silver eyes twinkled with amusement as she shot him a sideways glance. "Careful, Varek," she said with a soft chuckle, "you wouldn't want to bite off more than you can chew." She followed Saryna with an easy, confident stride, leaving Varek to fume in silence.
Varek clenched his jaw, his fists tightening, but he said nothing. He watched the two women disappear into the darkness, his irritation simmering, though he knew better than to push Saryna too far.