Chapter 29: Draculas

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_My pride almost leaded to my downfall..._ He mused as he ran, thinking of his own foolishness. He had underestimated the horde, and his pride had almost cost him his life.

Suddenly, Trigon's hair stood on end, a primal instinct warning him of impending danger. He instinctively sidestepped, and in the same instant, a rat and an armored cockroach landed precisely where he had been standing.

Squeak!

The rat let out an angry squeak, its beady eyes fixed on its escaping prey.

_That was a close call!_

Trigon thought calmly, his mind racing with the realization that the brutal training sessions with Teacher DS had finally paid off. His quick reflexes had saved him from the snapping jaws of the mutated rodent.

As he turned to look at his pursuers, the horde of rats who still remained hot on his heels, he quickly tried increasing his speed. The leader, a larger and more menacing rat than the others, suddenly opened its mouth and let out a shrill squeak. In response, a small rock rose from the ground, right in front of Trigon, striking his leg and causing him to stumble. The rats seized the opportunity, pouncing on him with ferocity, their teeth clenching around his body.

Thankfully, Trigon's battlesuit which was given to them by the school absorbed the impact of their bites, but the pain was still excruciating.

_I can't just die here! Not in the hands of some low level rodents!_ Trigon thought furiously as one of the rats claw at his face, injuring him and making his face bloody.

Letting out a mighty roar, his survival instincts taking over. With a swift motion, he swung his gauntlet, its knuckles covered in spikes.

The rats that got too close met a gruesome fate, their skulls crushed by the spiked fist.

Trigon kicked and flailed, his legs and arms flailing wildly as he struggled to shake off the attackers. He managed to grab a few rats and fling them into the horde, causing chaos and confusion among their ranks. The rats crashed into each other, their squeaks and screeches filling the air as they turned on each other in confusion.

Taking advantage of the brief reprieve, Trigon scrambled to his feet, his battlesuit battered but still intact. He took a moment to catch his breath, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of escape. The rats, however, were far from defeated. They regrouped, their beady eyes fixed on Trigon with renewed ferocity. The leader, the larger rat, let out a shrill squeak, and the horde charged once more.

With no alternative but to engage in combat, Trigon prepared to face his foes.

It is said that when humans are subjected to relentless persecution and harassment, they will retaliate with unfettered ferocity, especially when confronted with the certainty of demise.

This same psychological principle applied to Trigon, who, aware of the futility of attempting to escape the swarm of rats, unleashed his full fury upon them.

His gauntlet crashed down upon their metallic bodies, which offered little resistance to the assault. Whenever a rat managed to sink its teeth into his flesh, Trigon instinctively slammed his fist down upon it, ending its life instantly.

Squeak!

The leader of the horde, sensing something amiss, let out a high-pitched squeak, as if issuing a command. In response, the remaining rats and cockroaches abruptly ceased their attack and scurried away in unison, abandoning their assault on Trigon.

_The rats fled? Unbelievable! They can't be intimidated by me, can they?_ Trigon thought to himself, his mind racing with the sudden turn of events. _Ah, but of course! The scent of blood! Rats possess keener senses, they must have detected something ominous approaching or being attracted to those blood!_

Without waiting to verify his hypothesis, Trigon hastily limped away from the scene, his body wracked with pain and his head spinning from blood loss and hunger. The intensity of the battle had left him weakened, but his instincts urged him to seek safety and tend to his wounds.

_Damn! It will be hard to hunt those beasts!_ Trigon curse, unknown to him that while they are hunting beasts, another race are coming over to hunt them.

****

In the forsaken world of Tenebrous, where the dual red moons cast an eerie glow across the world, the city known to the Draculas as Erebus slumbered in perpetual darkness. The streets, paved with smooth Maplestone, were empty and silent, save for the soft clinking of armor and the faint rustling of noble attire.

The inhabitants of Erebus moved about with a mechanical detachment, their faces as pale as snow, eyes aglow with an unsettling red light.

The buildings, forged from the unyielding metal Kyrium, stood like sentinels, their blackened facades reflecting the bleakness of the world. Armored soldiers patrolled the streets, their grey and black armor a stark contrast to the crimson moons above. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and blood, as the vampires went about their nocturnal routines.

In the shadowy nooks and crannies of the streets, the desperate and downtrodden low level Draculas could be seen feasting on each other. They sank their sharp fangs deep into the flesh of the weaker ones, drinking their fill of blood as they struggled to escape. The scene was gruesome, yet the passersby showed no emotion, their faces cold and unyielding as they went about their business.

The world of Tenebrous was a realm of eternal night, where the strong preyed on the weak, and survival was a constant struggle. The people of Erebus had grown accustomed to the darkness, their hearts as cold as the metal that surrounded them and such a sight wasn't new to them. To them, being weak itself is a sin and the person deserves to die as it will be a embarrassment for their race to have such weak person.

Meanwhile, at the certer of the city stood a tall building which piece the cloudy sky with red cloud and thunder rumbling from it. Inside the building, the Erebus Academy's grand hall was a Gothic cavern, its ceiling lost in darkness. Flickering candles cast eerie shadows on the walls, illuminating 300 young students in black Kyrium armor, their faces pale and eyes aglow with an unnatural red light. They stood entranced, their attention fixed on the 'madman' seated on the dais, his face hidden in shadow, only his glowing red eyes visible.

"On this day, ye shall depart our realm of eternal night. Thy trial, a simple one: slay no fewer than ten mortal pupils each. The greater the prey's stature, the richer the spoils ye shall reap. Ere ye depart, thy mentor shall bestow upon ye the Sun Ring, a token that shall render ye impervious to the sun's enfeebling influence and somewhat mitigate the ravages of fire. Yet, heed this warning, younglings: the sacred arts and divine abilities shall still hold sway over ye, dealing grievous harm. Fail not, lest ye suffer my eternal displeasure."

His low, hypnotic voice wove a spell of darkness and coldness.

"We wouldn't disappoint you, Grand Duke!" The kids all coldly said in unison as the candles' faint light casting an eerie glow on them.

"Well met! Prepare thyselves. In twenty minutes hence, you shall be transported to a realm known as... Aridos."