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

They came like shadows given purpose—silent, armored in obsidian-etched steel, with chains woven into their flesh. The Black Chain. Their faces were blank beneath polished helms, their blades curved like fangs pulled from the bones of titans.

The first soldier struck with a flicker of darklight, forcing him back against a crumbling pillar. His soulfire flared instinctively, shielding him from the blow—but only just.

Seris spun beside him, her broken staff reforged with spellwork and raw determination. "They were once. Now they serve only the Will of Binding."

Another two lunged forward—Ashren ducked low, driving his blade upward into the gap between helm and jaw. The soldier convulsed, dissolved into ash and smoke, but three more took his place.

She carved sigils mid-air with her fingers, flinging walls of barrier-light around Ashren's flanks. He moved like fury incarnate, but even fury had limits—and these soldiers had none.

"They're not here to kill you," Seris whispered.

Ashren glanced at her, breath ragged. "Funny way of showing it."

"No," she said, staring at their formation, the net they were weaving. "They're here to bind you."

One soldier reached Ashren's arm, slamming a glowing chain around his wrist. He screamed as soulfire clashed against binding magic. The ground shook. The world twisted.

She launched herself at the soldier, slicing through the chain with a burst of raw power, her runes blazing like open wounds.

Ashren staggered back, the freed energy burning through his veins.

"No more chains!" he roared, and the sky answered.

The Gate, the blood, the curse—it wasn't just inside him anymore.

He didn't just wield soulfire now.

His body lit from within, veins glowing like lava. The wind caught fire around him. The Black Chain hesitated—but only for a breath too long.

In ten heartbeats, the monastery became a grave.

And Ashren—no longer fully man—stood in its ashes.

The last of the Black Chain fell in silence. Seris slumped against the scorched wall, her runes dim.

Ashren looked at his hands, still smoldering.

Seris met his eyes. "They'll keep coming. Until you break."

"Then let them. I've already broken once. This time, I break them."