Chapter One: The Mansion of Death and The Village of Hope

In a place covered in darkness, a mansion stood surrounded by an ashen sky. In this place, the sun never shone, and no stars could be seen at night. The only visible things were the gloomy clouds during the day and the mesmerizing moon at night.

Thick fog surrounded the area, making the atmosphere even darker.

The massive mansion was made of solid cement, an ancient structure that had aged over time, as if abandoned. It was vast, with large glass windows, and its entrance featured an iron staircase arch.

Echoes of screams filled the air, cries for help from tormented beings. It was as if they were being punished, tortured to the brink of death. Their desperate cries never ceased, even as their voices grew hoarse. Amidst their agony, laughter could be heard—a chilling, delighted sound, as if someone found pleasure in their suffering. The torment seemed to energize this entity.

"Your scream and suffering are music to my ears!!!" he said.

"Lord DRAEGON, we cannot find your grandmother," reported one of his bowing servants.

"Then don't stop searching!!! You wouldn't want to lose your head, would you??? " Draegon replied with a sinister tone, threatening his servants.

A wicked grin spread across the young man's face as he heard the anguished cries once more. In this place, known as Obsidian Spire, the Mansion of Shadows and Death, a young man ruled—a being who never aged or died. He had lived for over a millennium years, yet he remained as youthful as a 28-year-old.

He inhaled the sweet aroma of blood from the dungeon, where prisoners lay wounded. The scent was intoxicating to him, causing his eyes to glow crimson red. Drawn by the sweet scent, he entered the dungeon and ruthlessly slit the prisoners' throats with his sharp claws. He drained them completely, savoring every last drop of blood, intoxicated by its essence.

Meanwhile, far from this dark eerie mansion, in a place where sunlight still shone, lay a village untouched by evil and violence.

In the southeastern village of Zafirae, known as the Village of Hope, ordinary people lived in peace. They were once visited by benevolent witches and various supernatural beings. However, when a ruthless governor took power, he ordered the capture and execution of these creatures. His wrath stemmed from the murder of his daughter by a vampire. Fearful of persecution, the kind-hearted beings fled and sought refuge elsewhere.

Over fifty years, Zafirae had advanced technologically. With new inventions and rare medicinal plants, the villagers could now easily kill supernatural creatures that entered their land. The village had also flourished, with grand buildings, including an orphanage run by an elderly nun. The orphanage was surrounded by towering trees and emerald-green grass. It was built with strong gray cement, its rust-colored roof resembling a king's crown with pointed tips. The arched windows had gray-tinted glass.

A frantic elderly woman ran through the village, desperately seeking a hiding place. She was being hunted after villagers discovered she was a witch. Sweat drenched her body, her legs trembled, and wounds slowed her escape. Eventually, her body gave out.

Elysia, busy hanging white linens, did not notice the old woman. She felt the warm sunlight on her skin and the gentle breeze on her arms. Suddenly, a groan broke the tranquility—a sound of suffering and pain. Startled, she turned and saw the frail old woman sitting pale and wounded. Her eyes widened in shock.

As the distant sound of running villagers grew louder, searching for their prey, Elysia's heart pounded with fear for the woman. The sight of her suffering was unbearable. She knew someone was being hunted again.

The woman was barely conscious, and without hesitation, Elysia gently placed her hands on the woman's shoulders, helping her stand. Slowly and carefully, she led the woman to the back of the orphanage, determined to hide her.

Though they walked with difficulty, fear did not overcome Elysia. Her only thought was to keep the woman safe in her room. A fire burned inside her, a deep sense of duty. She felt as though a dagger pierced her heart, filling her with sorrow. She could not abandon the woman, who was too weak to run or hide. Something in her heart told her the woman was not dangerous, that she was not evil.

Elysia quickly brought the woman inside through the orphanage's back door and shut it without hesitation.

Gently, she wrapped an arm around the woman's waist, supporting her as she led her to her room. There, a large brown wardrobe stood against the wall. Summoning all her strength, Elysia pushed it aside, revealing a hidden door.

She hid the woman inside, determined to treat her wounds, knowing the cruelty of the villagers would not spare her otherwise.

As fast as lightning, the old woman's eyes snapped open. She stared directly at the blank white ceiling. Slowly, she turned her head from left to right, but all she saw was emptiness—no cabinets, no tables, nothing. The only thing in sight was the white bed she was lying on. She realized her body was wrapped in white cloth, soothing the pain from the wounds inflicted by the ruthless people hunting her.

She tried to sit up and leave the bed, but just as she moved, the door swung open. From a short distance, she saw a young woman, Elysia, carrying a tray of food.

"How are you ???" Elysia greeted politely.

"Where am I ???" the old woman asked.

"You are in an orphanage," Elysia replied.

"Did you treat my wounds ???" the woman asked.

"Yes, I found you injured. It looked like people were chasing you," Elysia explained.

"In that case, thank you for saving me. But why did you do it ??? You're human, just like them. You could have handed me over or even killed me as they tried to," the old woman said.

"I could never harm someone I see as good," Elysia answered with a gentle smile, despite the black cloth covering her face.

"You are kind to someone like me," the old woman responded, smiling softly.

"What's your name ???" she asked.

"I'm Elysia," the young woman replied.

"In that case, it's a pleasure to meet you, Elysia," the old woman said.

A warmth spread across Elysia's chest at the woman's words. Her grayish eyes, once dull, now reflected the bright sky as if mirroring the clouds' light. The old woman's gentle smile made her eyes appear slightly narrowed, framed by long, arched lashes. Her rosy lips, like a flower yet to fully bloom, gave her an air of modesty. Her snow-white hair was cut short, reaching just past her chin. Despite her apparent age of fifty, she looked youthful.

"Elysia ??? That's a beautiful name !!! It suits you perfectly," the woman remarked.

"Oh, thank you so much," Elysia said, her cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

"And what is your name ???" she asked.

"I'm Morwenna," the old woman answered.

"Can I call you Grandma Morwenna ???" Elysia asked innocently, smiling.

"Of course, if that's what you'd like," Morwenna replied with a smile.

"Grandma Morwenna, why did you come to the town of Zafirae ???" Elysia asked curiously.

"Your town is surrounded by rare medicinal plants. I wanted to gather some ingredients for my healing remedies, but those people saw me and attacked me with sharp weapons," Morwenna explained.

"I'm sorry, Grandma Morwenna. People here have grown hostile towards other beings ever since a vampire killed the governor's daughter," Elysia said sadly.

"A vampire ???" Morwenna asked, surprised.

"Yes, vampires," Elysia confirmed.

"What kind of being are you ???" Elysia added hesitantly.

"I am a witch, and my ancestors were ancient vampires. But you, my dear… your blood smells different. It's incredibly sweet , fragrant—something I've never encountered before," Morwenna said, gazing at Elysia intently.

"Huh ??? R-Really?" Elysia stammered, her eyes widening in shock.

She instinctively stepped back upon hearing that Morwenna had vampire ancestry. She froze in place, her legs and arms stiff like ice. Her knees trembled so much that she felt she might collapse from fear. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as if racing inside her, making it difficult to breathe.

But then, she saw Morwenna's gentle smile—calm, without a trace of malice.

Just like that, her fear melted away. The tight knot in her chest loosened, and warmth spread through her limbs again. The old woman's smile felt like a beacon of light, cutting through the storm of fear inside her.

"I won't hurt you, dear. I am a witch, and the vampire blood in me is only thirty percent. The only ability I have is detecting the scent of blood. I don't drink it, and I will always remain in this fifty-year-old form," Morwenna reassured her.

"Really ???" Elysia asked, finally feeling at ease.

"But you should be careful," Morwenna warned. "The vampire you spoke of might still be lurking around—especially with your unique fragrant blood."

"Then… what should I do, Grandma ???" Elysia asked anxiously.

"Don't worry. I will create a protection charm for you—but I will need special ingredients," Morwenna said with a knowing smile.