Ohwofasa_Emonena

They spilled his blood to protect their crown. Now he’ll drown their kingdom in it.

Once a devoted knight of the Silver Court, Kael Morvain was betrayed by the royals he served—offered as a living sacrifice to seal a cursed blood pact. But death was only the beginning. Reborn as a vampire in the ruins of forgotten gods, Kael awakens with no soul, no mercy, and one burning purpose: vengeance.

The kingdom of Solrath flourishes on lies, its golden heir worshiped like a savior. But Kael knows the truth: the blood on their throne belongs to him.

When he kidnaps the last surviving princess, a fierce woman marked by prophecy and hiding her own monstrous bloodline, Kael’s revenge spirals into a war between old gods, cursed blood, and forbidden desire.

In a land where power is written in veins and vengeance never dies, only one truth remains:

The dead don’t forgive.
They return.

veins of vengeance

She reached the edge of Faethrin at dusk.

The city reeked of old blood and magic undone. Every step she took felt heavier, like the ground itself remembered pain. The runes along her arms sizzled with warning, each one tugging her toward a single source:

She found him in the ruins of the Archivum Veilmaris, the wind stirring his silver hair, the faint glow of the scar on his chest pulsing in rhythm with the Gate.

Not just the chains—the presence. A force wrapped in flesh. Like the Hollowborn, but alive. Sharp. Holy. Anchored in purpose.

She walked into the library like she owned the bones of gods.

"A priestess?" he asked, stepping back from the book of chains.

"The priestess," she corrected. "Last of the Gatekeepers. And you—" her eyes locked on the glowing scar, "—have no idea what you've done."

"I stopped the world from ending."

"No," Seris said, stepping closer, the floor cracking under her boots. "You just restarted its oldest war."

In the void beneath the world, the Gate pulsed again.

It remembered the last time a key was forged from blood—and the screams that followed when it was turned.

It sent a whisper through the wound in the world:

He drew nothing—he had no blade left. Just fists and fury and the unrelenting fire that had always kept him breathing when he should've died.

"I don't want to fight you," Ashren said.

Seris narrowed her eyes. "You don't have that choice. The Gate does."

Suddenly, the rune on her left wrist blazed.

A burst of dark energy rippled through the ruins, knocking them both backward. The books caught flame. The stones groaned.

And from the darkness beneath the library floor… a voice spoke.

When Key Meets Chain