CHAPTER 4: The Night Of Blood

The cold night smelled of death.

The witches had crossed the border into vampire territory, and there was no turning back.

Eloise's grip on her staff tightened. Her heart pounded, but not from fear. From rage.

Her people had suffered enough. The vampires had slaughtered covens for centuries, treating them like prey, like pests to be wiped from the earth.

Tonight, the witches would strike back.

Beside her, Roland stood tall, eyes gleaming with warlust. His presence was iron-strong, unshaken. The air around him crackled with magic-raw power waiting to be unleashed.

He turned to the witches behind him.

"No mercy."

The wind carried his voice across the battlefield, sealing the fate of the night.

And then-the war began.

The First Strike

The witches struck first.

Eloise lifted her hand-the sky above them split open, and a rain of fire fell upon the vampire stronghold.

Screams rang out as flames engulfed the wooden watchtowers, consuming the vampire sentries before they could raise an alarm.

Then-dark figures shot out from the burning ruins, faster than shadows.

The vampires had awakened.

Lucien was the first to attack.

A blur of black and crimson, he surged forward and grabbed a witch by the throat. The man barely had time to cast a spell before Lucien's claws sank deep into his chest.

A heartbeat later-he was nothing but a corpse.

The witches retaliated.

Lillian, Eloise's closest friend, whispered a spell-the earth trembled beneath her feet.

Vines-thick, gnarled, and laced with poison-burst from the ground, wrapping around a vampire's legs, dragging him down. He shrieked as the thorns dug into his flesh, drinking his blood like leeches.

Lucien moved to strike her down, but Roland intercepted.

The two leaders locked eyes.

Vampire and witch.

Monster and sorcerer.

Lucien smirked, fangs glinting in the firelight.

"You should've stayed in your forests, witch."

Roland didn't answer. He simply raised his hand-

And the air itself ignited.

A shockwave of magic tore through the battlefield, sending vampires flying.

But Lucien-Lucien didn't move.

He simply stepped through the flames, his golden eyes glowing with ancient hunger.

And then-he attacked.

Selene: A Blade in the Dark

Away from the main clash, Selene moved like a ghost.

She had no interest in leading armies. She had come for one reason alone:

To kill.

A witch turned-too slow.

Selene's blade sliced clean through his neck.

His head rolled into the dirt, eyes still wide with shock.

Another witch lunged at her-she twisted mid-air, dodging a blast of raw magic. She grabbed the man's wrist and snapped it like a twig.

His scream lasted only a second before her fangs sank into his throat.

She drank deep. The magic in his blood burned-but she liked the pain.

One by one, the witches fell.

And then-she saw her.

Across the battlefield, a witch moved through the flames like a storm.

Not just any witch.

Eloise.

Selene felt something strange crawl up her spine.

For a second-just a second-she hesitated.

Then, as quickly as the moment came, it was gone.

She raised her blade.

Eloise turned-and their eyes met.

For the first time.

But before either could move, the battle surged forward.

A vampire crashed into Eloise, knocking her backward, and Selene lost sight of her in the chaos.

She exhaled sharply, shaking off the strange sensation.

There was no room for hesitation.

Not in war.

And certainly not for a witch.

______

The battlefield reeked of death.

Smoke curled into the night sky, blackening the stars.

Eloise's chest heaved with fury.

She had waited for this moment-the moment she would kill Selene.

The vampire was a legend among her kind. The Blood Reaper. The Phantom of the North.

Eloise had spent years hearing stories of her merciless slaughter, her inhuman strength, her haunting beauty.

She had dreamed of the day she would drive a stake through Selene's cold, dead heart.

But when their eyes met-everything inside her twisted.

It was only for a second.

A brief flicker in time.

But in that second, the rage she had nurtured for years wavered.

Her breath caught.

Her fingers trembled around her staff.

And that hesitation nearly got her killed.

A vampire lunged at her, fangs bared.

Eloise snapped back into focus, spinning just in time to dodge his strike. She raised her hand-

A burst of blue flame shot forward, consuming the vampire in a wave of enchanted fire.

His screams melted into the night, his body turning to ashes.

Eloise exhaled sharply, cursing herself.

What the hell had just happened?

There was no time to think.

Because the vampires were evolving.

A War of Shadows

They came from the darkness.

Not as men. Not as monsters. But as illusions.

The first witch to fall didn't even see it coming.

A figure emerged from the smoke-her sister.

Bloodied, wide-eyed, reaching for help.

The witch gasped, staggering forward. "M-Mira?"

The moment she touched her-her throat was ripped out.

The vampire's disguise melted away, revealing a bloodstained grin.

More witches fell into the same trap.

Lured by familiar faces.

Lost loved ones. Dead comrades. Even their own reflections.

The vampires were shapeshifting.

Eloise clenched her jaw. "They're using dark illusions. Don't trust anything you see!"

But it was too late.

The battlefield had become a nightmare of deceit.

The witches countered with fire and light.

Lillian raised a silver dagger, chanting in the language of the old gods.

The air around her shimmered-then exploded into holy symbols, burning through the vampires like acid.

Roland slammed his staff into the ground, sending a pulse of energy across the field.

The shadows peeled away, revealing the true forms of the lurking creatures.

Exposed, the vampires hissed in fury.

Lucien growled. "Enough games."

He stepped forward, eyes glowing like molten gold.

With a flick of his wrist, a black mist coiled from his fingers.

A curse.

It slithered toward the witches like a living thing, hissing and twisting.

The first witch it touched screamed.

Her body rotted in seconds, skin peeling away like burnt paper.

The curse spread.

One by one, the witches fell-screaming, clawing at their own flesh as it decayed.

Eloise's pulse hammered.

She needed to act.

Lillian grabbed her arm. "We have to retreat-"

"No."

Eloise stepped forward.

If she fled now, the vampires would hunt them down like dogs.

There was only one way to end this.

She raised her staff-

And summoned a storm.

The wind howled, spinning into a vortex of raw magic.

Lightning crackled, pure energy surging through her veins.

The storm ripped through the battlefield, tearing vampires from the ground and hurling them into the sky.

Lucien shielded his eyes, snarling.

Selene stood still, watching.

The two sides locked in a deadlock.

The war had only just begun.