The Wizard Visiting the Blood Clan

In the basement of the Rousseau Hotel, the room was still shrouded in pitch-black darkness.

After all, the creatures within weren't ordinary humans, but Vampires—beings who fed on blood and preferred the shadows. Their superior night vision allowed them to move easily, even in complete darkness.

But this particular group of Vampires had suffered a significant blow not long ago.

Two days earlier, this small team had come to Egypt to eliminate a "fellow race"—another Vampire—whose reckless actions risked exposing their kind to the world. They had underestimated the target.

Their opponent, along with his subordinates, had effortlessly crushed nearly half of their team with abilities none of them could comprehend. Even though Vampires possessed extraordinary healing capabilities, they were not invincible. Silver to the heart or a severed head could still spell death.

If that Vampire, the one who arrogantly called himself Dio, hadn't been so careless and allowed them to escape, they might have been wiped out entirely in the ruins of his castle.

They fled the city under the cover of night and reported their losses to their superiors.

In the modern world, transforming new Vampires was rare, and every life among them mattered. Losing more than half their number? Revenge was inevitable.

A day later, word arrived that a Black Wizard would be dispatched to assist them—provided they completed a small favor in return. Along with the message came a talisman designed for Vampire use. When mixed with blood, it transformed into a magical creature for communication, though it could only be used after sunset.

And so, they waited in the basement all day, anticipating nightfall to contact the mysterious Wizard.

But boredom was never a concern for creatures as long-lived as they were. Over the centuries, they had learned how to pass the time with carnal distractions.

Selene watched with disdain as several of her companions tangled themselves together on the dusty mattress nearby, their bodies entwined, the air heavy with lust and the coppery scent of blood. Her piercing blue eyes were cold and devoid of interest.

Blocking out the lewd sounds, Selene bent over her weapon, meticulously oiling and assembling the pieces of her custom handgun.

"Sele, do you think that man will actually come?" asked Danial, his voice strained as he leaned against the wall, nursing wounds that hadn't yet fully healed. The humiliating encounter with Dio had left him bitter.

Selene's eyes sharpened. "What did you just call me?"

"Alright, alright… Selene," Danial surrendered with raised hands, his tone playful despite the pain.

From across the room, Erica chuckled, swirling crimson liquid in her goblet—fresh blood, still warm. "Give it up, Danial. Our commander's far too cold for your little games."

With a quiet click, Selene finished assembling the gun, pulled back the slide, and checked the chamber. "The message has been sent," she replied coolly. "If he comes, good. If not…" Her gaze swept across the room, noting her companions' disheveled clothes and lazy postures.

Her lips curled in faint disgust. "We can't allow that bastard Dio to tarnish the Vampires' name."

Knock knock!

The sudden knock at the door silenced the room instantly. Shadows flitted across the space as the previously entangled Vampires snapped to their feet, all weapons drawn, their senses razor-sharp.

Selene exchanged a glance with Erica, then cautiously approached the door, handgun raised and steady.

There was no response from the other side, only two louder, heavier knocks that rattled the old wood.

Selene stood by the door, ready to speak—when the lock clicked, and the door swung open on its own.

The tension in the room shot to its peak. Every Vampire froze as the silhouette of a man appeared in the doorway.

He wore a plain black robe, his face forgettable—the kind of appearance that would be lost in a crowd, designed to be unremarkable. But the short staff in his hand radiated subtle, controlled waves of dark magic.

The man frowned as he peered into the shadowed room. His voice dripped with quiet amusement. "You Dark Creatures really do live up to your reputation. Not even a lamp lit?"

With a casual flick of his short staff, a brilliant sphere of light bloomed above him, flooding the room with harsh illumination.

The Vampires flinched, their eyes narrowing reflexively against the sudden glare. But the light also revealed the truth of the situation—the Black Wizard had arrived.