A fateful encounter.
The mist clung to the dense forest like a living thing, curling between the trees and shifting under the dim glow of the moon. From its depths, a lone figure emerged—a man draped in an ageless elegance, his form cutting through the fog as if it parted for him alone.
Kol Ivanguard stepped into an unfamiliar world, the scent of damp earth and ale-soaked wood filling his senses. His gaze lifted, scanning the small village nestled beneath the night sky. The distant hum of revelry—drunken laughter, slurred songs—painted the scene with an almost welcoming warmth.
But it was a warmth that did not touch him.
His sharp eyes traced the glow of torches lining the streets, their flickering light barely holding back the darkness. Villagers staggered through the dirt paths, lost in their own intoxicated merriment. It was a scene of carefree indulgence, but Kol felt the shift in the air—the subtle dissonance that told him he was somewhere entirely new.
「This place is not my world. But it is my problem now.」
With a smooth motion, he adjusted the scarf around his neck, brushing off specks of dust from his long coat. He had learned long ago that no matter where he arrived, appearances mattered. The world may change, but his presence would always demand a certain respect.
A sudden impact disrupted his steps. Someone had bumped into him—hard enough that the scent of cheap liquor hit him before the man's face did.
"Bah, watch it!" the drunkard slurred, waving a sluggish hand in the air. He was short, unkempt, with a bald head glistening under the torchlight. His dull, unfocused eyes flickered toward Kol, and for a moment, he seemed to register something wrong.
Kol tilted his head slightly, letting a slow, amused smile creep onto his lips. His fangs caught the light as he spoke, his voice a smooth hum of restrained amusement.
"I suggest you watch yourself, fool."
It took less than a second. The man's bleary expression twisted into wide-eyed fear, his drunken haze burning away under an instinctual terror. His breath hitched as he stumbled back, hands trembling.
"A-Ah, my apologies, sir. If you'll excuse me..."
He turned and scurried off, as fast as his unsteady legs would carry him.
Kol exhaled through his nose, the smile fading as quickly as it had come. He hadn't even needed to exert pressure—just a flicker of something primal beneath his words. Fear was an easy thing to cultivate when one knew how.
He took another step forward, weaving through the lively streets of Honeywell. A strange new world, an unfamiliar land…
But it made no difference. He would learn. He would adapt.
And soon, he would find out why the blood in this world called to him so strongly.
*Pzzt.*
A sensation prickled at the edge of Kol's awareness—subtle, yet distinct. A presence. Someone was watching him.
They were doing a terrible job of it.
He came to an abrupt stop, letting the night air settle around him. In his world, such attempts at stealth were barely noticeable, mere ghosts in the wind. But here? It was laughably blatant.
Without turning, he let his voice carry through the crowd, laced with amusement.
"Hmm? Do you need help hiding? I'm quite good at it—well, at times I can be."
A playful smile curled his lips, his fangs glinting under the torchlight as he waited for a response.
None came.
But amidst the shifting mass of villagers, one figure stood out. A hooded man, clad in dark robes, his face concealed beneath the beak of a raven mask. Even from a distance, Kol could feel his gaze—unwavering, fixed solely on him.
The crowd swayed, a sea of movement that momentarily obscured Kol's vision. When it passed… the man was gone.
Kol exhaled through his nose, his amusement deepening into something sharper.
「Ah, intrigued by a game of hide and seek, are we?」
Filing the encounter away for later, he turned back to the present matter at hand—he needed a place to think. Somewhere away from prying eyes. With a casual flick of his wrist, he reached into the moving crowd, catching hold of the nearest person.
His fingers curled around fine fabric.
A sharp inhale. A delicate tremor.
An elvish woman—her golden hair spilling over her shoulders—now stood frozen in his grasp.
A hush fell over the nearest onlookers. Some turned away, too drunk to care. Others simply watched, unwilling to intervene.
Kol ignored them, his voice smooth but firm. "Pray, direct me to the nearest spot where I may find repose and pass the time."
The elvish woman swallowed hard, her emerald eyes wide. "T-The Taphouse…" she stammered, raising her hands in surrender. "It's a common place for travelers to stop by… P-Please don't hurt me."
Kol let out a soft chuckle. "Many thanks. No need to worry; I am merely grateful for the kindness that still lingers in this world."
He released her with an effortless grace, slipping a few gold coins into her palm as he turned to leave.
She blinked, staring at the unfamiliar currency in confusion. "W-What kind of coins are these…?" she muttered, her fingers tracing the foreign metal. But before she could question further, she shook her head and vanished into the crowd.
Kol paid her no further mind. His destination was set.
The Honeywell Taphouse awaited.
-
The door to the Honeywell Taphouse creaked open, releasing a flood of warmth into the cool night air.
Inside, a lively symphony of tavern life played—a crackling fireplace casting flickering shadows on the walls, the mingling scent of roasted meats and spiced ale, and the boisterous chatter of villagers lost in drunken merriment.
But as Kol Ivanguard stepped in, a subtle shift took place.
The laughter grew slightly subdued. Conversations dipped into murmurs. A few wandering eyes flickered toward him before darting away, as if instinctively wary of his presence.
Unfazed, Kol took a measured step forward.
The scent in the air assaulted his senses—a dense, intoxicating blend of sweat, alcohol, and something deeper. Something ferrous. A scent reminiscent of blood.
His crimson gaze swept the room, scanning for any lingering hostility.
There.
In the dimmest corner of the tavern, a lone figure lounged in the shadows—feet kicked up on the table, posture exuding carelessness yet betraying a coiled tension beneath. The man's clothing was… out of place. Not of this land. Not of this time.
And Kol knew, even in the crowded room, the man was watching him.
A small smirk tugged at the dhampir's lips.
How amusing.
---
Jack Ripper's Perspective
Shit.
Jack lowered his hood slightly, pretending to adjust it, though he knew damn well the weird bastard had already spotted him.
He could feel it—that unnatural gaze.
Sitting there, all poised and refined like he owned the room.
Jack exhaled, shifting slightly in his seat. His fingers twitched with a hint of origin magic.
This guy wasn't just some regular traveler.
Jack didn't like it.
---
Kol's Perspective
He chose a seat within range—not too close, yet not far enough to be ignored.
Casually, he settled into place, hands folded atop the table, allowing the night's events to unfold at their own pace.
The brief moment of quiet was soon shattered by a gruff voice.
"Ye gonna order somethin', or just stare mindlessly?"
Kol turned his head, his gaze falling upon a burly dwarven man, his thick beard speckled with bits of dried ale.
Kol parted his lips to speak.
"Something riche—"
The words never left his mouth.
Because in the span of a heartbeat, a blur of motion cut through the air.
A boot connected with his forehead.
Just as quickly, the figure vanished.
Kol barely had time to process the absurdity of what had just happened. A cloak billowed. A flicker of shadows. The perpetrator reappeared outside, perched atop a nearby rooftop, peering back into the tavern like a curious predator.
Kol blinked.
Slowly, he lifted a hand and brushed the dust from his face. For the first time in decades, he was left in momentary bewilderment. "A peculiar greeting," he mused aloud, his amusement outweighing any annoyance.
---
Poe's Perspective
From a corner seat, a pair of silver eyes glimmered with intrigue.
A faint chuckle escaped Poe's lips as he witnessed the bizarre exchange.
"It seems there are some interesting people in this village." A smirk of excitement tugged at the edge of his mouth as he lifted a delicate porcelain teacup to his lips, sipping gracefully amidst the chaotic energy of the room.
While others might have viewed the interaction as a meaningless scuffle, Poe saw something else. He watched. He observed. He waited.
Kol, meanwhile, turned his gaze toward him.
"It's intriguing, truly."
Kol's tone was unreadable, yet Poe felt the weight behind it. "No need to conceal yourself; you're not the first to falter."
Poe's smirk deepened.
「Heh. This night was turning out to be quite fascinating.」
--
Poe tilted his head slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Hm? Did you say something, my fair traveler?" His voice was smooth, teasing. "Or did you prefer a greeting like your other friend earlier? I'd be happy to oblige a request from a common man."
Kol studied him, crimson eyes flicking over his finely tailored suit. Enchanted fabric, no doubt costly. Even in his long years, such craftsmanship was rare. A noble, perhaps? Or something else entirely? He sipped his tea, his lips curving into a toothy grin.
"Hm? I wouldn't advise attempting it. Yet, the allure is hard to resist, isn't it? Not an opportunity that presents itself every day. Come now, give it your best shot."
Poe chuckled, tapping a finger against his cup. "Curious. Most rabble would begin running. Apparently not you…" His smile widened. "Come forth, old man. I'm feeling generous tonight. Please, join me." He gestured to the empty seat across from him.
Kol exhaled sharply, then let out a low chuckle. "Well, why not? I haven't got much to lose." Rising from his seat, he strode toward the table with the ease of someone who had seen centuries pass. He pulled out the chair and settled in, resting his arms casually on the table.
"That's the spirit!" Poe's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Now then, you look like you're in dire need of something. I can tell. Consider it a… hunch."
Kol arched a brow, mirroring the boy's words back at him. "Hmm? Well, for one, what I need is a rather obedient individual. Consider it a… hunch."
Poe chuckled with amusement, taking a slow sip of his tea. "Ah, well played. Well, I'm not one to judge others' fetishes, but to each their own. I know a place that serves… your kind."
He leaned back slightly, silver eyes glinting. "Oh, yes. I can smell you from a mile away, dhampir."
A low, raspy chuckle rumbled from Kol's chest. "Well now, that's quite intriguing. Seems like you're not your average folk either." His fingers twitched slightly, an old habit—one born of restraint.
Poe's lips curled. "Hmph, my regal nature is hard to miss, I know." He studied the dhampir with keen interest before tilting his head slightly. "Are you all right, my vampiric friend?"
--
Nearby Rooftop
Jack's Perspective. Five minutes earlier.
The rooftops of the Honeywell district offered an unbroken view of the taphouse below, where the evening carried on with a steady rhythm—clinking mugs, muffled laughter, and the low hum of conversation. Jack kept to the shadows, his body low against the cool tiles, eyes flickering between the figures inside. The red-haired dhampir intrigued him, but he wasn't alone. Another man, dressed like a noble, had drawn his attention as well. The air around them felt different, like pieces shifting into place on a board he wasn't sure he wanted to play on.
Then, a muffled noise snapped his focus elsewhere. A distant scuffle. Something—someone—in the alleyway behind the temple. Jack exhaled sharply, switching his attention.
"Lama lama makin pelik tempat ni…" he muttered in primordial under his breath. (This place keeps getting weirder…)
With practiced ease, he crept toward the sound.
The alley was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from the lanterns in the streets beyond. A masked figure had an orphan boy pinned against the damp wall, his dagger pressing against the child's throat.
"Tell me what you know, kid, or this does not have to go sideways."
The boy whimpered but held his ground, his little hands clenched into fists.
Jack settled into position above them, crouched low on the ledge of the building, dagger already in hand. He watched, waiting.
The masked man's patience, however, was running thin. "Oi, kid. I'm not fucking jokin' around." The blade licked the base of the boy's neck, a sliver of crimson beading against his skin.
The boy cracked. "The cove is behind the waterfalls... I don't know the passcode... please..."
A low chuckle from the masked man. "Thanks, kid. Now, it's nothing personal."
The dagger arced downward.
Jack moved.
The air shifted as he landed between them, catching the man's wrist in an iron grip. Shadows curled around his fingers, an unnatural chill seeping into the man's skin. For a second, he didn't register the danger. Then, his eyes widened. A strangled breath escaped his lips as blood spilled from his nose, his ears, his eyes. His body convulsed, muscles locking, then slackening as death took hold. He staggered back, choking on his own fluids, before collapsing in a heap. The alley fell into silence, save for the slow trickle of blood pooling around the corpse.
Jack turned to the boy.
"What cove, what waterfall, and what password?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out the last of his gold, letting it gleam in the faint light.
The boy's eyes darted between the body and the gold, his breath still uneven. But then, a small smile. "The cove lies behind the waterfall. Pass through there, and you'll enter the Cove of Shadows—at least, that's what they say. I really don't know the password, mister... but I know someone who might! That old uncle by the shore, he talks a lot about smugglers passing by a few days ago."
Jack considered the information. Good enough. He flicked the pouch of gold toward the kid. "Don't get robbed. Keep your nose clean, or someone like me will come for your life for real."
The boy caught it, eyes wide with excitement. "Thanks, mister! I will! I'll tell my folks about you!"
Jack was already vanishing into the rooftops when he called back, his voice sharp as a blade.
"Say a word, and I'll come for you."
--
Honeywell Taphouse, Present Moment.
"Are you all right, my vampiric friend?" Poe asked with mild concern.
The air in the Honeywell Taphouse thickened, tension crackling like a storm about to break. Kol's body stiffened, his breath ragged as the hunger took hold. His vision blurred at the edges, fading into crimson-tinged memories of battles past—rivers of blood, shattered bodies, the ecstasy of the kill. His hands trembled, veins darkening beneath his pale skin.
Blood.
Kill.
Drain.
A dagger cut through the thick atmosphere, a sudden blur of steel flashing toward Kol—except Jack's aim was off. A sharp crash echoed through the taphouse, followed by a startled yelp from a patron seated nearby.
"THE HELL!?" A deep voice bellowed. A moment later, the orc pulls out the dagger stuck to his neck and blood spews like a bursting fountain, causing him to collapse.
Jack let out a slow exhale, shaking his head.
「Again???」
Kol barely registered the misfire. His nostrils flared, his senses tunneling in on something far more potent—the scent of fresh blood. His hunger ignited, and his body tensed.
"Blood. I smell blood."
Jack didn't hesitate. Dark, swirling tendrils of magic coalesced in his hands—not the dragon's mana he once wielded, but something deeper, something colder. A familiar power, yet twisted into shadow.
Two streaks of umbral force lanced through the air. Kol blurred aside from the first, but the second struck him dead in the chest, sending him crashing into the wooden walls.
Poe reacted instantly, pulling his raven mask over his face as he slipped into a defensive stance. His heart pounded against his ribs.
「Damn it. I need to lead him out of here.」Poe thinked to himself.
Kol growled as he staggered to his feet. The patrons shrieked, panic erupting through the tavern like wildfire.
"VAMPIRE!!! RUN!!! GET THE GUARDS!!"
Chairs overturned, tankards smashed, and boots thundered against the floorboards as the taphouse emptied in a chaotic rush.
Poe moved to follow—only to trip over a stool, stumbling just behind the fleeing crowd. "Damn it."
Amidst the chaos, Jack melted into the shadows, slipping through the room unnoticed. The undead was going feral, his bloodlust threatening to consume the town. Jack wouldn't let that happen.
Emerging from the darkness, he lunged, grabbing Kol from behind. His touch seared with magic—not the radiant fire of the past, but something raw, something old.
He reached for the presence he once knew, the mighty dragon who had acknowledged his mana. His hand pressed against Kol's chest.
A whisper, ice-cold against the vampire's ear.
"Heel, undead."
Kol's breath hitched. Something unfamiliar curled in his gut, overtaking the hunger—an emotion he hadn't felt in centuries.
Fear.
The blood inside him howled, 'KILL HIM!!' But his limbs hesitated, his instincts recoiling.
Poe caught the moment of hesitation. Without wasting a second, he moved, slashing Kol's throat—then driving his blade straight into his heart.
Kol staggered. For a second, silence reigned. Then—
His body did not crumble into ash.
Instead, the black ichor inside him surged, regenerating, knitting his undead flesh back together.
Poe's eyes widened. "W-wait what? You're supposed to be dead."
Jack exhaled, watching the unnatural restoration unfold.
"Fucking vamp."
Jack watched Kol, his instincts screaming as the vampire's insatiable hunger soaked the air. He lunged, aiming to grab him, but Kol's form shifted, slipping through his grasp like smoke. The dagger he swung passed right through Kol, the mist of his undead form barely stirring. Kol's twisted smile widened as his bloodlust battled with a strange, paralyzing fear. Jack's grip tightened, but he could feel the hesitation in Kol's essence—a voice telling him not to attack.
Jack scowled, grinding his teeth. "Tch, think you're hot shit?"
The words barely left his lips when his eyes flared, a flash of crimson lighting his vision. He could feel it—the undead's form trying to vanish, his mist twisting, but Jack could track him, every movement, every shift in the shadows. His own eyes allowed him to see through Kol's tricks, his control focused.
Kol, already grinning madly, felt Jack's presence linger in the air like a heatwave. 'Interesting…' he thought to himself. He welcomed the challenge. His mist swirled thicker around him, and with a sickly chuckle, he disappeared, dashing out the door in a plume of darkness.
"Let's play a game of hide and seek, shall we?" Kol's voice echoed, almost playful, as he vanished into the night.
Poe, still in the chaos of the tavern, caught a fleeting gust of mist brushing past him. He turned sharply, watching it vanish into the streets.
Only one target remained.
His eyes met Jack's, the stranger's gaze cold, calculated. Poe hesitated before speaking, gauging the tension.
"Well, are you friend or foe?" Poe asked, his tone light, but wary.
Jack gave him an almost predatory look, his voice low and guttural. "I don't care. Are you dying today?"
Poe gulped, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. He gave a slow smile, trying to mask his nerves. "Friend, definitely a friend. Now, shall we go hunt a vampire? Whatever you are, he's certainly scared of you."
Jack eyed him with thinly veiled suspicion. Rich people always had a way of getting under his skin. He didn't care about friends or foes—not now.
"Get the vamp," he snapped, then moved quickly behind the bar, stashing all his remaining gold safely away in a hidden compartment where the barkeep could find it.
Poe gave a slight nod, the thrill of the hunt rising in him. "Sure thing." His smile grew, a sense of eager anticipation in his voice as he stretched his arms wide. "The hunt is finally on. Do give me a good chase, dhampir."
The village of Honeywell lay blanketed in an uneasy silence, its quaint homes turned to shadows beneath the dim moonlight. Doors were locked, shutters drawn tight as villagers cowered from the danger they'd only heard about in far-off tales. The distant clamor of guards rushing toward the Honeywell Taphouse filled the night, their shouts echoing off the wooden walls. A vampire in Honeywell? The thought alone would have been laughable—until tonight.
Kol leaned against a weathered wall, his chest heaving. A pained exhale escaped his lips, the ache from Jack's dark magic lingering deep in his bones.
"What an eventful day," he muttered, wincing as he straightened. That dagger was no joke. I need to feed. The lingering pain was a sharp reminder of his mortality—an unfamiliar sensation for one as ancient as him. But in that pain, there was exhilaration.
「Those two… ha! The strongest I've faced in ages. This is getting interesting by the second.」
A grim chuckle bubbled from his throat, tinged with pain and excitement.
Time to go.
With a flick of his wrist, a misty veil enveloped him, his form dissipating into the night. He slipped through the cracks of the world, becoming nothing more than a ghost among the shadows.
The guards reached the taphouse, their torches painting flickering patterns on the ground. Kol drifted past them, a silent specter unnoticed by their mortal eyes.
Inside the taphouse, Jack turned his gaze toward Poe, eyes narrowed. "Hunt the vamp," he commanded with a sharp edge in his voice, before striding towards the incoming guards.
Poe arched a brow, clearing his throat with a note of mock elegance. "Hmph, I did say I was feeling generous. Very well." As he slipped into the shadows, a small tracking stone found its way into the folds of Kol's cloak—a precaution for the unpredictable hunt ahead.
Jack scoffed, his voice cold. "Don't care. Get it done. I know both of your faces, and I'm not done."
The head guard, a burly man named Guldren, approached with his squad, their forest-hued armor blending with the surrounding wilderness. His eyes narrowed as he took in the chaotic scene. "I heard word of a vampire. What happened here? Who are you?"
Jack didn't bother with introductions. "Tall, weird, has fangs, ran into the forest. White-haired man is giving chase, and now I need to know about the rumors around the waterfalls."
Guldren grumbled, scratching his beard. "Fogwind Forest? Damn it to the hells. I don't have the resources to go hunting vampires out there! Bah!" His crew echoed his frustration, their sighs heavy with dread.
A young recruit's ears perked up at the mention of the waterfalls. "The waterfalls? Oh, the not-so-secret cove? What do you wanna know about that?"
A swift smack from his comrade silenced him. "You idiot, that's not for telling random strangers!"
Jack stepped forward, his presence commanding. "I'll get the vamp. Talk. Now."
The young guard stammered, "R-right! Behind the waterfalls, there's a cove of smugglers and merchants from all around the continent. I don't think I need to tell you what goes on there. The codeword is Eagle's Eye. Last I heard, the place was empty, so ain't sure what you hope to find there."
Jack smirked, a hint of menace curling his lips. "Thank you. Next time, be mindful of guests entering your town. Keep in mind that nasty things exist capable of dominating your mind… like me, for instance." He tossed his last coin to them, the metal glinting in the firelight. "Share it, and keep things to yourself before a vampire sucks your blood."
Guldren nodded, sweat beading on his brow. "Thank you, Sire. Do enjoy your stay in Honeywell. I shall arm the locals in case we face more than we fear. The Council of Honeywell will gladly pay for your services once the deed is done. My name is Guldren. I'll be in the Barracks most days. Ask around; you'll find your way there. It's a small village, after all."
He turned to his men, voice gruff with authority. "Clean up the Taphouse, boys! The rest of you, patrol with extra vigilance. Any suspicious activity, report to me immediately. The Shadowmournes will have my head for this…" he muttered, rallying the guards to their duties.
Jack offered a curt nod. "Very kind of Honeywell. I will ensure the death of the vampire. Tell the Shadowmorningstar or whatever that I like magic stuff and business. If the big boss asks, tell him I said 'whose head and how much.'"
As he glanced back at the tavern, he noticed bloodstained footprints leading away. The white-haired man… is he mentally challenged? Rich folk are so annoying, Jack thought, irritation coloring his steps as he followed the trail.
Guldren offered a final word, bowing low. "I will inform the Council of this, Sire. If you rid this town of this vampiric threat, you can be sure that more work will come your way. The Shadowmourne family is quite generous. Please, find me once you've killed it."
Jack only grunted, his focus already on the hunt. The night was far from over, and the thrill of the chase beckoned.
--
The night pressed in like a blanket of darkness, the only sound the rustle of the wind through the trees.
"Now then, to track a vampire. Shouldn't be too hard." Poe's voice held a casual tone, but there was an edge to his words, a quiet frustration he couldn't hide.
He reached out with his senses, aimed for the tracking stone, the faint connection to the Dhampir, was silent. No trace. He scowled.
「He must've removed it. Damn.」
Jack's eyes narrowed as he followed the bloodied footprints. The scent of death hung in the air, sharp and unsettling. He moved with practiced silence, blending into the shadows. Each step was measured, his senses alert. The trail was clear, stretching out of the village and into the forest. But at the crossroads, the path faltered. The blood trail vanished as if swallowed by the earth.
For a moment, Jack stood frozen. The forest seemed alive with its secrets, its whispers.
He turned to Poe, who was wandering aimlessly, muttering to himself in the distance. His movements were sluggish, and his eyes held a faraway look. Jack raised an eyebrow. Is he really this lost?
With a smirk tugging at his lips, Jack crept forward, his steps soundless. He moved closer to Poe, watching the man walk straight into the woods, oblivious to Jack's presence.
「Idiots. Both of them. This is getting pathetic.」
He drew closer and, in a voice low and mocking, about the boy's hair colour "Maybe it's silver and not white?" His words held a teasing edge.
Before Poe could react, Jack's dagger pressed lightly against his throat, just enough to draw a drop of blood.
"Your name, and what's your business? Why are you so eager to hunt a vampire, playing buddy-buddy? What's your game?"
Poe froze, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch the blade against his neck. The cool metal bit into his skin. He winced, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. "A dagger to the throat and it's not even our first adventure together," he muttered with a slight chuckle. The tone was calm, but there was a flicker of something beneath it—a touch of uncertainty, a hint of fear.
"First off, my name is Poe Shadowmourne. Bloodhunter." His words held a practiced air of confidence, but the faintest tremble betrayed his discomfort. "My game? The hunt, of course."
He paused, eyeing Jack with a sharp, yet wary gaze. "To be honest, my ghastly friend, this vampire… it's unlike any I've tracked before. Which is why I need your help."
Jack pressed the dagger just a fraction deeper, a warning in his tone. "First of all, not friends. Second, what exactly is a Bloodhunter? You seem awfully lost for someone who's supposed to hunt monsters." He narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening on the dagger. "And third, what's the deal with Shadowmourne and Shadowmorningstar? This town's obsessed with shadows, and I'm starting to get annoyed. Care to explain?"
Poe's eyes twitched as he took in Jack's questions, his veins pulsing with irritation at the deliberate mispronunciation.
Shadowmorningstar?
He held back a growl, managing to keep his composure.
"You're filled with questions, aren't you?" Poe winced as the blade cut just slightly deeper, blood trickling down the edge. He couldn't help but feel the sting, but kept his expression neutral, though his teeth clenched slightly.
"I don't know who this Shadowmorningstar is that you're babbling about, but the village is governed by my family. Shadowmourne. Shadowmourne," he emphasized, his voice tightening in frustration.
"As for why I'm lost… Well, this entire evening has been a bit strange, to say the least. Consider me… off my game."
「Off his game? He seems more like a half-wit than a seasoned hunter.」Jack thought.
Jack's expression flickered for a moment, the irritation clear in his eyes.
「Shadowmourne, Shadowmorningstar… Whatever.」
He shook his head, the frustration palpable.
With a sharp exhale, Jack withdrew the dagger, stepping back as if losing interest in the conversation. His gaze flickered over to Poe, now standing there with a clenched jaw and a strained smile.
Jack extended a hand toward him, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm Jack, nice to meet you, Shadowmorningstar." The last word was laced with deliberate mockery, a playful jab.
Poe's blood boiled, veins rising beneath his skin as he fought to maintain his composure. He kept his smile intact, though the twitching of his eyelid betrayed his irritation.
"It is a most gracious honour to meet you, Jack," Poe said through clenched teeth, his voice tinged with forced politeness.
「This mongrel… If it wasn't for the vampire hunt, I'd have salted his land by now. But for the honour of my family, I'll remain composed.」
His inner thoughts seethed as he stood there, but outwardly, he remained the picture of civility.
Jack flashed a grin, satisfied with Poe's barely contained fury. "So, Bloodhunter, what's your next move?" he asked, tossing his dagger in the air and catching it, its edge glinting in the moonlight. He wiped the blood from the blade with each effortless catch.
He turned, the question lingering in the air between them.
Poe exhaled slowly, massaging his neck where the dagger had left a sting. He chuckled softly, the pain in his neck momentarily forgotten. "At least you know when you're out of your depth. Perhaps we can get along after all, Jacky."
He paused, taking a moment to think before continuing. "There are two ways to hunt a vampire, Jack. The first is to simply follow the bodies and blood, but that's boring. My favorite way? To let the prey hunt us." He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Why do all the hard work when they'll do it for us?"
Jack's expression darkened, his brow furrowing at Poe's suggestion.
「This guy's got a screw loose.」
He shot Poe a look that clearly conveyed his thoughts. 'Are you serious?'
Without another word, Jack disappeared into the shadows, his form melding with the night, his movements swift and silent as he vanished from view.
Poe stood there for a moment, bewildered and muttering to himself, "What the hells are you?!"
He shook his head, as if to shake off the confusion, and adjusted his mask. With a sigh, he pulled his hat down lower and stepped into the forest, the hunt finally beginning in earnest.
From high above, Jack perched on a tree branch, watching from the shadows as the forest below stirred. His fingers tightened around his dagger, the cool steel familiar in his grip. He sliced his hand open, letting a stream of blood flow down his palm. Then, with a final glance at the dark forest below, he began his descent, his movements swift, agile.
「It seems I won't be finding Jenevelle anytime soon.」
He leaped from branch to branch, his mind lost in the haze of memories. The hunt, the blood, the rich, crazy egos that filled this damn town. Everything felt too… tangled.
In the distance, a faint eerie whistle echoed through the trees. Kol, his form half mist and half solid, glided forward. His stride was confident, the rhythm of his steps a strange, haunting melody in the night.
He was coming.
Kol created mirror images of himself throughout the mist-laden forest, the illusions blending seamlessly with the fog.
Jack could sense something prowling within the woods, a creeping presence that unnerved him. His ears caught the faint echo of a haunting tune, its eerie melody drifting through the air. He turned, his eyes narrowing in the direction of the sound. For a brief moment, he thought he saw the red-haired vampire, but when he focused, only mist remained.
Reacting quickly, Jack unleashed two blasts of unearthly energy at the illusion, only for it to dissipate into the air. One thing was clear: his quarry was much closer than he'd initially thought.
Poe, hearing the haunting tune, felt a small smile tug at his lips. "Aren't you a dramatic one?" he called into the mist, his voice echoing through the trees. "Come on out, please? I wasn't expecting to hunt tonight!" He shouted, enjoying the game.
A sudden crackling blast broke his concentration, and he jumped slightly. "What the hell?"
Jack, pressing a hand to the wound he'd sustained, muttered to himself as blood trickled from his injury. "Tch, I thought vamps turned into bats. What the hell is this?" He followed the blood trail, the stench of it thick in the air, pulling him towards Poe.
Jack's instincts guided him swiftly to Poe, who was still busy drawing attention to himself with his loud call. He was too focused on the dramatic hunt to notice Jack's approach.
Kol, now following the blood trail, sniffed the air. The scent was unmistakable: fresh blood. It stained the trees and splattered across the muddy ground. He followed it, noting the thickness and heaviness of it, as though someone was actively leaking blood.
"Well, that was a fun game of hide and seek," Kol muttered to himself, the grim tone of his words undercutting the lightness of his expression. "Unfortunate it couldn't be longer."
Jack caught sight of Poe, who was still loudly making himself a target, and sneered. "All talk, but the mental mindframe of a common guard… He's going to get himself killed," Jack muttered to himself. He couldn't shake the thought that this reckless behavior might end in tragedy.
「Gotta save him before it's too late.」
Kol, hearing something from the distance, made a note of Poe's careless nature. "Interesting. I'm not the only one playing hide and seek," he mused quietly, intrigued by the game being played around him.
Poe, still in his own world, smiled as Kol approached. "Ah, my bloodthirsty friend. How was my call to action?" he asked, casually.
Jack watched from the shadows, calculating. He noticed the vampire's presence and locked eyes with the undead creature.
"I'm not the only one playing hide and seek," Kol repeated to Poe, unfazed.
Jack appears in a wisp of shadow in between Kol and Poe, attention shifted to Kol. "Your death has been commissioned, undead," he called out, the blade in his hand gleaming ominously. "Lord Shadowmorningstar will have your head for the outcry you displayed in the village."
Poe raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Shadowmourne." He corrects with a roll of his eyes.
"Look, do we really have to fight here? Not that I mind, but I'd prefer if we kept things civil?" He suggested.
Jack glanced at Poe with a cold look in his eyes. "Look, Shadowmorningstar, I need food and information. It doesn't help that this undead can't keep his mouth shut. My hand is forced here." He sighed, irritated. "Not everyone has gold shoved down their throat for breakfast."
Poe frowns at the mention of money and sighs, remaining silent.
Kol, not bothered but intrigued, flicked a few coins towards the cloaked figure. "I assume this coin doesn't exist in this particular plane of existence?" he asked with a smile, enjoying the moment of curiosity.
Jack caught the coin in mid-air and inspected it. "Do you have more?" he asked, his tone growing curious.
Kol dropped a coin purse into Jack's hand. "I suppose?" he responded nonchalantly. Being ancient royalty did have its advantages.
The coin purse was heavy, and its contents radiated an unfamiliar energy. It was a coin from another realm entirely, marked with a decorated insignia of a crow feasting on a skull. Given the weight, the purse could likely feed a village for years in Kol's world.
Poe examined the coins with a raised eyebrow. "Interesting, never seen anything like that here. Otherworldly treasure? That could sell for a pretty penny."
Kol's response was dismissive. "Does it? It's cheap change from where I come from."
Jack grinned, the weight of the coin purse making his mind race with possibilities. "Wanna kill this kid and get money from his parents, vamp?" he asked with a dangerous edge to his voice.
Poe, amused, shook his head. "Of course, it's worthless here. You couldn't even buy a decent meal with that unless… you know where to sell it?" he posed to Jack.
Jack leaned closer, his gaze cold and calculating. "I could just ask your father," he said, a smile forming slowly as he flourished his blade.
Kol raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "I thought you both were together hunting me down?" he asked, the question genuine.
Jack shrugged indifferently. "I'm open to suggestions," he said, directing his gaze toward the vampire.
Poe thought for a moment. "You could, but you'd need to get close to him first. He won't meet with random people, simpletons. No offense, of course." His tone was almost mocking. "You both look capable."
Jack's eye burns with cold determination, spoke with confidence. "I believe the head of his son would warrant enough for me," he said, his voice cold. "The father will come for his son's head."
Kol's eyes narrowed as he sensed the difference in Jack's aura. His energy was unlike anything from this world, something far more potent. "What a monster…" Kol muttered under his breath.
Poe gulped, fear creeping in. "Right, that's a plausible option… How about this? I'll introduce you to a close ally of mine. She's quite knowledgeable about Otherworldly treasures. Only a few places would even dare to buy such things. I'll even give you access to The Black Network's information net. How's that?" He tried to bargain, his tone growing more serious. "It's clear you both are Otherworlders. I've come across a few myself. I can help. Wandering blindly in this world isn't advisable."
Jack considered Poe's offer, his daggers sheathed as he tapped his chin in thought. "Hmm, yes, that could work. But I still need the vampire's head. Promised the village, you know? Gotta hunt the vampire, save the village… the usual," he said with a casual shrug.
He turned to Kol with a curious look in his eyes. "Can I take your head and you regenerate or something? I'm too lazy for all this killing. Although…" His smile grew thin and dangerous as he released a burst of undead energy.
Poe, though surprised, nodded. "Oddly heroic of you, but to each their own." He chuckled, though the sound was more of a nervous laugh.
Jack glared at Poe, clearly irritated. "Shut up."
Poe raised his hands in mock surrender. "All right, all right. Just an observation." He smirked inwardly, relieved not to be caught in the conflict himself.
Jack turned back to Kol, a calculating look in his eyes. "Are you dying today or no?"
Kol, unfazed, smiled lightly. "I'm guessing you'll get paid in gold for that? As much as I'd agree to a swift decapitation, I'm not at full capacity to regenerate yet. It'll take some time."
He leaned back, a thoughtful look on his face. "Any other suggestions?"
Kol, unfazed, smiled lightly. "I'm guessing you'll get paid in gold for that? As much as I'd agree to a swift decapitation, I'm not at full capacity to regenerate yet. It'll take some time."
He leaned back, a thoughtful look on his face. "Any other suggestions?"
Poe grinned. "Why don't we simply burn some wood and give the head guard a sack of ash? Most vampires turn to ash when they die." He said the idea with the tone of someone revealing an obvious solution.
"I'll even help corroborate the story. Make it all official." He paused, glancing at both Jack and Kol. "That way we have a peaceful Honeywell again."
Jack, scratching his head, looked between the two of them, confused. "Vamps turn into ash? Just now he was mist, and one I encountered in the past turned into bats. Which one is it?"
Poe shrugged casually. "It depends on the type of vampire. You can't really single them out. Some turn into bats, but turning into mist? That's unheard of around here."
Jack frowned, his confusion growing. "Let me pull some fangs or something, bro," he muttered.
Poe winced as if imagining the pain. "Or… that, I suppose."
Kol, hearing the boy's suggestion, was thoughtful for a moment. "Right, we'll go with the boy's idea," he said, chuckling awkwardly.
Jack backed up slowly, giving a sheepish look. "Okay, I'm lost now. What's the plan?"
Poe rested his fingers on his chin in deep thought, offered a clearer explanation. "Perhaps not everyone got an early education. It's rather an issue these days," he began, explaining the plan. "We burn some logs, collect the ash, and present it to the head guard. I'll help you make the story of killing the Honeywell vampire official. We get paid for it, and our undead friend here stops draining people, and Honeywell will be peaceful again."
He smiled smugly, satisfied with the plan.
Kol's head snapped toward Poe, his brows furrowing at the boy's words. Unheard of? Those vampires don't exist here?
"Wait, you haven't encountered an ancient vampire?" he asked, his voice edged with curiosity. But before Poe could respond, a plume of blackened flame roared to life from Jack's outstretched palm.
The forest groaned as fire clawed its way up the trees, devouring bark and leaves in an uncontrolled inferno. The air smelled of smoke and blood, thick with the remnants of darkfire as the jungle simmered under its oppressive heat.
Jack barely spared Poe a glance, his eyes gleaming with disdain. "There… ash." His voice was low, almost mocking, as embers drifted in the heated air.
Poe instinctively flinched, his posture tightening. "Wha—!" He barely moved in time to avoid the burning detritus.
Jack continued, his voice devoid of emotion. "I actually killed an ancient vamp before. He was doing some ritual. Turned into bats—it was pretty funny." He remarks to Kol.
Mist coiled through the air, and in the blink of an eye, Kol reappeared twenty feet away from the raging fire, untouched by the blaze. Dusting off his coat, he straightened with an uneasy expression. "Well… you can certainly kill an ancient vampire with that," he muttered, casting a wary glance at Jack. Monster.
Jack exhaled through his nose, his smirk barely concealed. "I try not to be impulsive… apologies." But the wink he shot Poe, paired with the condescending gleam in his eyes, made the words ring hollow.
He turned to Poe, gesturing around the forest fire, "So, um… 'vampire hunt firestorm in jungle' is a pretty plausible story, yes, my noble?" His tone was hopeful, almost playful.
Kol pressed a hand to his forehead. "That is also… plausible." His voice was distant, like he wasn't entirely there. Then, his body stiffened. A vision—fire, roaring and all-consuming, swallowing everything in its path. His breath hitched.
「I need to leave. Now.」
Poe, meanwhile, eyed the burning forest with something between awe and resignation. "Right. Ash. That works." He knelt, gathering what he could from the charred remains. "I suppose it will. Let's get out of here before we end up as ash ourselves."
As he stood, he smirked. "What no one knows doesn't hurt, no?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked away, thoughts flickering between amusement and the gnawing weight of ignorance is bliss.
Jack watched Poe leave before shifting his gaze toward Kol. "Help me douse the fires," he said, his tone unexpectedly sincere.
Kol took an instinctive step back, his entire body bristling. "No. That fire can stay the hell away from me." The words left him sharper than he intended, but the primal fear in his gut refused to be silenced.
Before Jack could retort, a guttural growl shattered the crackling silence. Shouting echoed through the burning underbrush. Something large was coming.
Jack's eyes flickered toward Kol again, unimpressed. "Really gonna leave me out here?"
The forest trembled. A bugbear crashed through the charred remains of the trees, smoke curling from its singed fur. Its glare locked onto them, eyes wild with fury. "Are you the ones who set fire to my home?" it bellowed, voice thick with smoke and grief.
Jack scoffed. "We were hunting a vampire. He's dead. You're lucky to be alive." His words were dismissive, barely acknowledging the creature's rage.
Kol inclined his head slightly. "Yes, he is quite right. Burned to ash. Apologies for the commotion."
The bugbear's nostrils flared, its watery eyes narrowing as the realization settled. "A vampire?! SO YOU SET FIRE TO OUR HOMELANDS?!"
Kol sighed, rubbing his temples. The fire was spreading faster now, licking hungrily at the surrounding jungle. If left unchecked, the entire forest would soon be reduced to cinders.
"Would you rather be sucked dry by a vampire?" Kol's voice carried an ancient weight, each syllable steeped in dominance. He took a step forward, his presence pressing against the bugbear like an unseen force. "I suggest you calm down and take a step back."
The bugbear hesitated. Some primal instinct buried deep in its bones compelled it to obey. It stumbled a step backward, but rage still burned in its gaze.
Jack exhaled through his nose. "Are you gonna help?" he asked, looking pointedly at Kol.
Kol's jaw clenched. "Calm down, I'm trying my best here. I'm not exactly fond of fires. As you can tell."
Jack sneered. "Fucking vamp."
He crouched, pressing his right hand to the scorched earth. The air around him thickened with arcane weight, drawing power from the burning land itself. Mana surged like a living force, tendrils of dark energy coiling around his fingers.
He whispered under his breath.
"Authority."
Kol's gut twisted.
「What the hell is he doing?」
The fire obeyed.
The chaotic blaze, once a rampant beast devouring everything in its path, coiled toward Jack, kneeling before him as though recognizing its master. The jungle flickered with unnatural light, shadows dancing wildly against the scorched trees.
Jack stood amidst it, neither wholly puppeteer nor puppet—just a conduit, a vessel for something far greater.
The flames trembled, awaiting his command.
Kol felt something ancient stir in the air, something dangerous.
Jack's gaze drifted to him, but his voice was distant, almost thoughtful. "If you ever meet a woman named Genevelle in your travels, tell her Jack says hi."
Then, with a final breath, he absorbed the blackened flames.
A moment of absolute silence followed.
Then everything faded to black.
Poe watched as Jack performed a ritual unlike anything he'd ever seen. The dark fire coiled and writhed, responding to Jack's will like a living thing, forming a mass of blackened flame in his grasp. A cold shiver ran through Poe's spine. What on earth is he? He'd encountered magic users before—warlocks, necromancers, sorcerers—but this was something else entirely. Something darker. Perhaps even… older. He made a mental note to consult his father, if he ever got the chance.
Then, just as suddenly, Jack collapsed. His body went slack, and his eyes stared blankly into nothingness.
The bugbear stood frozen, its charred fur still smoldering. Its large, watery eyes darted between the vampire and the fallen man, fear creeping into its bestial expression. "What manner of beast is this?" it rasped, before turning on its heels and sprinting away, disappearing into the trees. Its thoughts were singular—warn the others. Alert, alert, alert.
Kol barely reacted. He moved with the effortless grace of mist itself, materializing beside Jack before he could hit the ground. Shadows coiled around the unconscious man, lifting him just a foot above the earth, keeping him aloft in a spectral embrace. Kol sighed, his voice laced with amusement.
"What a pain," he muttered, but his lips curled into a smirk. "Still, he gets more interesting by the moment."
Poe approached, stepping carefully over the dampened, charred earth. His gaze lingered on Jack, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Any idea what the hell he is?" he asked, shifting his attention to the vampire.
Kol turned his head slightly, examining Jack's unconscious form. "This world is much more fun than mine," he mused. "Jack, huh? I haven't the faintest clue what he is. But he does seem… important." His tone carried a hint of something between wariness and intrigue.
He finally looked at Poe directly, tilting his head slightly. "Ah, where are my manners? Seems fair I introduce myself as well. Name's Kol. That's all you need to know." He gave a slight, mocking bow, though his eyes remained sharp, watchful.
Poe smirked, mirroring the gesture with an elegant bow of his own. "Kol, eh? Quite a nice ring to it, dhampir."
Straightening, he added smoothly, "Well met, I'm Poe Shadowmourne. Pleased, I'm sure."
Kol chuckled, stretching his arms out slightly. "Right back at you, Poe."
His smirk faded as he glanced back at Jack, still floating within the mist's embrace. "What now?" His voice dropped to a quieter, more cautious tone. "He seems important, and I'd rather not leave him to rot here. We should find shelter."
Poe crouched beside Jack, inspecting him in a half-hearted attempt at medical examination. He poked at Jack's shoulder, then lifted an eyelid, only to be met with vacant stillness. He sighed and stood up with a shrug. "Well, he's alive. That much I can tell you," he said, nonchalant. "Beyond that? Haven't the faintest idea."
Kol frowned. He had no potions or relics on him that could help Jack recover, and he wasn't about to risk feeding him blood—not when he had no idea what Jack truly was. "Right, we need to get him somewhere safe."
Poe exhaled through his nose, already regretting what he was about to say. There's only one place… but it comes with a price. A familiar, unpleasant headache pulsed in the back of his skull at the mere thought.
"I have a place," he admitted. "But don't ask questions. Not about where we're going." His voice held a quiet steel to it.
Kol raised a brow but didn't press. "I respect that. I have a couple of my own back home." With a flick of his wrist, the mist carrying Jack shifted slightly, adjusting to follow. "Lead the way, then."
Poe stretched, rolling his shoulders before setting off. They re-entered the outskirts of Honeywell, moving through narrow alleyways, their shadows flickering against the dim lantern lights. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and distant smoke. The slums were silent at this hour, only the occasional shifting of stray animals or the distant murmurs of the night watch breaking the stillness.
Finally, Poe stopped before a ruined house. The wood was warped with age, the roof half-collapsed, the windows shattered. But it was what lay beneath that mattered. He gestured toward the ground—a hidden trapdoor, barely noticeable beneath layers of dirt and debris.
"We're here."
Kol glanced at the ruined house, then at the trapdoor. His lips curled into something between amusement and skepticism.
"Looks grim." Kol remarked.
"Depends on what your definition of grim is," Poe murmured. He reached down, brushing away some of the dirt before pulling it open. A cold draft of air curled up from the darkness below
Without hesitation, he stepped down into the abyss.
Kol followed after him, sparing one last glance at the world above before vanishing into the shadows..