Bloodlust Legacy: The Curse Of Avarice

Prologue—The Fallen Emperor

A treacherous storm descended upon the shadowy landscape of the vampire kingdom. Locals sought shelter within makeshift enclosures, doors and windows sealed to keep the growing waters from seeping into their homes. Lesser nocturnal creatures traversed the dampened plains, unperturbed by the hefty downpour.

Within the grand central city, a collosal structure loomed above the empire. The royal castle remained a treasured part of the vampire's history—their fear and reverence towards the red emperor.

At the front entrance, a squad of high-class vampires remained stationed, their sharp pupils piercing through the darkness. Their bodies were adorned with specially crafted silver armour, with distinct designs running across them from top to bottom. They stood defiant before the undulating storm, unaffected by the prickling cold.

Numerous chambers existed within the prestigious monument. The proud Darkhaven family inhabited these chambers, many of whom were feared by the populace.

In one of the many chambers, an old man laid weakly on a king-sized bed. His grey hair laid sprawled atop the soaked pillow. Dark canyons hung precariously underneath veiny eyes. His cheeks appeared sunken into his skull, teeth brown and heavily chipped. A violent wave of coughs would follow quite often, soaking the once pristine white sheets dark crimson with blood.

In the midst of voracious thunderclaps, loud banging tore through the torturous ordeal, drawing his attention.

"Come in," he muttered, his body shaking uncontrollably as the coughs returned.

The giant double doors leading into his chambers were swung open the next moment, a sharp gust of wind accompanying the intrusion. The noise of boots hitting against the floor filled the atmosphere, along with the rattling noise of a metallic cart rolling into the expansive chamber.

A silhouette of a vampire approached the unwell emperor, the numerous tourches aligning the walls throwing light onto the face of the figure. Due to the emperor's condition, his eyesight wasn't as trustworthy as the others, so he had to rely on torches to notice who was who.

"It's time to take your medication, brother," the young man spoke, his face solemn as he stopped the cart right beside the grand-sized bed. His hair was mid-length and curly, going down to the upperpart of his back. His short beard and mustache complement his sharp jawline, giving him the appearance of a proud legacy. Well, in this case, he most certainly was.

"Kael... Oh, am I glad to see you," Julius coughed as he spoke, trails of blood trickling down the corners of his mouth. "This damned sickness... I don't know how long I can hold out for. It's putting me through one hell of an ordeal."

Kael inched closer to the bed, and sat down at the edge. His eyes never left his brother's sickly appearance.

"I understand that you're in pain, but that's why I'm here, that's why I've always been here for you. Take this medicine that I prepared for you so you can regain yourself. I know you might think it doesn't work, but trust me, with time and improvements, I'll surely figure out a way to cure you of this curse.

"But for now, let this medicine sustain you, at least."

Julius let out a light chuckle, feeling something within his organs piercing him viciously. His vision wavered as the pain intensified, as through threatening to rip him to shreds right there and then.

"Kael... My time... I feel... I won't make it..."

Kael shook his head defiantly, tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

"Nonsense, brother! Don't you dare say such a thing! I already told you this before, I'll find a way to cure you, even if it's the last thing I do, so don't start saying things like that!"

"But, Kael..."

"Not another word, brother! If you go, who will I have left in this world?! Our parents are gone. Our brother is no longer with us! I'll die if you leave too!"

Julius remained silent for a few moments, a smile forcing its way through the harrowing pain.

"You're wrong, Kael. Remember that you have a family of your own. You have a loving wife, and three beautiful children. You still have people you can live for. So even if I die, you won't be lonely in this world," his strength diminished to a greater extent, his voice thinning with every word he uttered.

"Kael, before I go, I want you to promise me something," Julius eventually muttered.

"What is it, brother?" Kael asked.

"Protect this settlement... from the enemies beyond..." He uttered, his body growing still. He remained there on the crimson bed, unmoving, mute.

Kael's body froze, eyes shifting rapidly as sweat covered his entire body. He raised a shaky hand, checking if truly his brother had passed on. Then, with a satisfied smile, he rose from the decrepit bed, straightened himself, and waltzed out from the late emperor's chambers.

The abysmal rain gradually subsided, filling the settlement with the eerie sound of water droplets crashing against shallow water levels.

Kael traversed the vast expanse of the royal castle, heading towards the posts of the royal messengers. They were the ones in charge of relaying information throughout the kingdom. Now that the emperor was dead, the need to let the people know weighed heavy on him, urging him to utilize their service.

Also, an official meeting regarding the coronation of the next emperor had to also take place. Kael knew his relatives wouldn't just let him ascend to the throne. Many would wish to challenge him for the position, as they did his brother and father. Both had defeated everyone they faced, proving that they were, in fact, the strongest the bloodline had to offer. Now, it was Kael's turn to fight for the throne.

Once the messengers were sent out, Kael moved into a large room with a roundtable placed in the centre. There was nothing else in the room, no intricate designs or patterns that aligned the walls and ceiling of the rest of the castle. It was a plain covering of black. There, Kael stumbled into five members of the family that wished to challenge him for the position of emperor—Roman, Tyler, Quinn, Jayus, and Flynn.

Whenever royals fight each other in a quest for the throne, the end of the match must always result in the other opponent's death. It was tradition amongst royals. The losers had no right to be a part of the era where the victor was ruler.

The six princes exchanged intense glances with each other, the air heavy with unspoken threats. Just a couple hours ago, they were happily chatting with one another, sharing experiences like the best of friends. But now, they were ready to slaughter each other in a bloodbath.

Kael raised his head above his five cousins, his lips curling up in amusement as he addressed the others:

"This is your last chance, back out now, or say goodbye to everyone who ever loved you."

The room fell into deep silence right after, no one said another word untill Roman burst out laughing. He was the oldest amongst them, though he was slightly younger than Kael. He gazed at the latter with defiance, crimson eyes filled with condecent towards him.

"Look at you, speaking as if you have a chance at beating us. You're nothing but a pathetic excuse of a royal—a waste of Ryker's genes. If only you were half the man Julius was, we wouldn't have even considered challenging you, not after what your brother did to mine," Roman commented.

Kael's shoulders shook uncontrollably in the absence of luminescence. His hoarse voice permeated the malicious atmosphere, eyes radiating a strong sense of power.

"We'll see who's alive once the duels are over. Don't forget to greet Kaiser and the others once you make it to the afterlife. Tell them how you lost your lives due to sheer arrogance and watch them berate you for the rest of eternity," Kael retorted.

Later on, the fights were organized to take place. Within a different room in the castle, rows of seats were placed on a raised platform away from the arena, where other royals could spectate the matches.

Every member of the Darkhaven Family was present, from the oldest men and women, to the youngest children who were recently born. All were present today to watch their own blood die in sadistic matches.

Kael stood confident within the arena, his body adorned with a specially crafted crimson armor meant exclusively for royals. A subtle red aura enveloped his being, slightly distorting the air around him. His gaze remained ever-focused on his opponent as he made his way into the arena.

Tyler waltzed casually into the arena, a cocky smirked seemingly fixed onto his babyish face. Unlike Kael, he had no facial hair whatsoever. His uneven jawline was complemented by his bushy eyebrows, making him closely resemble a primitive creature. It was only due to his status as a royal that others didn't regard him as an ogre amongst his peers, not in his presence, at least.

The both of them locked eyes the next moment, neither uttering a single word. Right after, the signal was given, and the fight commenced