West

Blasted away against the cave's wall, Vallen hit his back and fell to his face weakly, unable to rise from the pain.

It was a new kind of pain, something that made him taste a different kind of suffering as every drop of blood flowing through him was boiling and flowing again each other.

The Lord wasn't pleased once Vallen reported what happened with the people he met and how he avoided a fight with them.

« You disappointed me… Vallen… You disappointed me greatly. »

"Master! I am… I am sorry…"

« Vallen… I understand your sentiment… I know you did it out of loyalty. »

As the Lord spoke, Vallen could only lower his head as he managed to get himself on his knees.

« However… you cannot wage a war without risks… or have you forgotten your revenge. »

"Forgive me, Master. I only thought of the aftermath. Even if I used all the starved creatures to hunt down three experts, we would have masters coming to look for them. Right now, we still have time to move the hunt elsewhere as we appear to be a lesser threat."

« We shall do what you suggested, Vallen… but you are to head west and only west… »

"Yes, Master! Understood, Master!"

Vallen bowed his head to his Master until the presence of the ancient vampire faded slightly but before it slumbered, the Ancient Vampire spoke again:

« Take the strongest three Nosferatu and give them blood. »

"Master?"

Rather than punishing Vallen Directly, the Ancient Vampire chose an efficient solution by making more followers from the Nosferatu pack, who were left starved.

Vallen realized that the Ancient Vampire was no longer allowing Vallen to make decisions on the field by himself and was creating an order of some sort. Three other Vampires wouldn't be much since but enough to make Vallen act more accordingly according to the will of their master.

Understanding all that, Vallen rose in his posture, cupping his fist to meet his reflection in the mirror properly, and cupping his fists.

"As you command, master."

A vampire is not as free as one would think. Forever and ever, a vampire is bound by the will of their master, the one who gave them Vampirism. This binding can be broken only by the master's will or death. It also loses effect the more powerful a subordinate vampire grows, naturally, a Vampire child cannot be bound by a weaker parent.

Vampires create other vampires by converting humans. While most think that a bite from a vampire makes a vampire, it is actually a vampire's blood that makes a vampire but it is only half of the process, the vampire's blood is the key to initiating the transformation, but it's only one stage of the process. That's why the Ancient Vampire claimed, cursed, then bound Vallen's blood. While the process wasn't perfect, it was enough to create Nosferatu.

This brings attention to the horde of night creatures Vallen is now in charge of.

The smaller ones are Nosferatu, an incomplete breed of vampires that never tasted blood. While they retain most of their wits and cunning, they are nothing but hunting hounds that are unable to act freely except when fighting.

Then there are Ghouls, those whose vampiric transformations were a total failure.

Ghouls are larger than Nosferatu with bodies that resemble large monsters despite looking humanoid. Their appearance is a nightmare fuel and they would induce terror into the heart of any man with their ice-cold eyes, their dark faces, and their hook-like claws.

One crucial difference between Ghouls and Vampires is that while vampires drink blood, Ghouls eat corpses in general—especially the ones that started rotting—and for that, they serve as cleaners for vampires.

As for the finer details, Vallen wasn't sure what his master was explaining when he spoke of the demonic and abyssal bonds that make vampires what they are.

But that didn't matter now as Vallen was now picking three of the Nosferatu that were deemed the best so far. Their names… forget it, they will get new names anyway. For now, they will drink human blood for the first time.

Vallen picked a fresh corpse and dragged it to the center of the cave before reporting to the mirror that it was all in place. Once he did that, the Ancient Vampire immediately lifted the restrictions on drinking blood from the three, and in a flash, they were already on their knees, sinking their terrible fangs into the corpse and draining it from all blood.

Gradually and steadily, the three Nosferatu started to transform into appearances just like what they once were. Like dried sponges submerged in water, they were getting back to their prime forms albeit the bloodied mouths and the haggard clothes.

The first was a man towering in height and his limbs were unusually long. He looked threatening even to a vampire and his head was tall, almost resembling the face of an ape.

The second was also a man but he was the same size as Vallen but with a bald head except for a single braid growing from the back of his head. His face was that of a dangerous man who would rob people out of their money in a back alley.

The last was a woman whom Vallen remembers well. While she was neither a warrior nor a hunter, she had an unusual quality to her blood the Ancient Vampire resisted the urge to use her as a sacrifice. Her face felt dangerous and her eyes were unsettling for some reason as Vallen never liked those kinds of eyes. She had black hair that was neatly cut and a mole above her lip a little bit to the left.

Each of the three was a monster in their own right during their time as Nosferatu. The first man was a powerful fighter who used his limbs and long claws to attack from unusual angles without relying on tactics, the second was closer to Vallen in style mixing both tactical fighting and brute force indicating that he was once a member of Jinaghu, and the last woman was a total tactical hunter who relied on traps and hidden attacks to delude her prey and attacked always from the shadows.

"The master will grant you your new names. Bow before him and receive these names with respect." Asserting his seniority to the three, Vallen spoke and made them all face the mirror.

As they looked at each other, the first to bow was the second man followed by the other two. Vallen also bowed after he turned and they all waited for their names to be granted.

« Zephir. »

A name came from the mirror without any reflection appearing on it, for that name, the long-limbed man bowed his head lower.

« Nyxar. »

A second name was spoken and the second man did like the first.

« Velora. »

And so did the woman.

After a while, the four vampires stood up and walked outside the cave.

"So this our new life! This power! Immortality!" Zipher spoke first as he looked at his hand and felt the urge to destroy running through him.

"Shut up, old man. The master is the one to tell us what to do with these powers." Nyxar said as he looked intently at Vallen, "You, you know more about these powers than the rest of us, spit it all out."

"Calm down! The man in front of you is no doubt the Yaoguai of Shuangliu." Said Velora as she checked Vallen from a distance.

Each of them had a peculiar look but Vallen looked bland in comparison. He felt ordinary, black of hair and eyes, not striking like Zipher, not menacing like Nyxar, and not sexy like Velora.

Vallen watched the three of them enjoy their newfound power and patiently listened to them before walking away to a nearby tree and picking up some robes of dark colors.

"Get dressed."

He tossed each of them a set of clothing, ones that he carefully salvaged from the corpses he hunted. After all, a vampire needed a lot of change if he was to look presentable and those three were as nude as when their mothers bore them.

They all got dressed as they were told. Vallen was a bit intimidating as he seemed more experienced than the three and from the faint memories they have as Nosferatu, this young man was quite capable.

Zephir tore the sleeves of the robes he was given as if to make his arms move more freely while Nyxar preferred to dress in a large robe. Finally, Velora showed as much cleavage as possible and tightened a sash under her clothes to give her chest a little upward push.

"Whistle! I see you are planning to hunt more than the rest of us." Nyxar said.

"Hmph! The powers given to us are much greater than simple alluring. You're a disgrace!" Zephir added.

"Boys, let me do my work and I'll let you do yours. But still, our young senior here didn't tell us much." Velora avoided their gazes and redirected the spotlight at Vallen.

Vallen seemed to be annoyed by the lot of them and shook his head before walking away.

"Aren't you listening to us?" Zephir called.

"What there is to listen to? Want my advice? Don't get too drunk on power, be smart, and never underestimate humans." Vallen said and halted his steps before remembering something, "For the time being, try to keep the pack in check. We won't be staying in this place very long so make sure not to stray too far. I'll scout the way west for now."

***

— Qinghai Province, Kunlun Mountain Range —

Deep in seclusion, many martial artists spend their lives as hermits, locked in caves, and meditating on their paths.

Young and old, many rely on these secluded training sessions to advance their martial arts away from the distractions of the world. They devote every fiber of their being to be better at what they do and after they emerge from their secluded training, they come out with great results or at least enlightenment in their martial paths.

While such secluded training can be seen as the most devoted one can be towards martial arts, other sects have taken this method a step further and created trials in these hidden caves, one of which was the Cave of the Founding Demon.

The Founding Demon referred to one man who went down in history as the strongest martial artist ever lived, becoming the founder of the modern-day Heavenly Demon Cult—the Demon Cult for short. A cult that was formed on the fringes of the Central Plains as it was rejected many times by the natives of Jianghu to be one of them and was chased out from their territories.

The heritage of the Demon Cult tells the story of how the earliest followers were chased from Persia all the way past the Tebit to Qinghai and how they were seen with scrutiny by all whom they came across either Buddhists, Taoists, or Muslims until they settled in the barren and secluded parts of Qinghai for the past few centuries.

This heritage is told by murals on the walls of the Cave of the Founding Demon, a cave only a chosen few enter and only one or two leave. This is the place where the young masters of all the clans of the Demon Cult gather to try and inherit the legacy of the Founder. If one succeeds, they would be the heir of the Heavenly Palace and then get qualified to inherit the Martial Arts of the Demon Lord.

Today was the day fate would turn as the cave was opened from the inside and a young man appeared, shocking the few guards who were posted to guard this sacred ground.

That day, Cheon Wuyun—the youngest and the most unexpected youngest son of the current Heavenly Palace Master—became the official heir to the position of the Palace Master.