NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1: To Dominate The World
For centuries, vampires reigned as the undisputed rulers of the known world, their dominion built on the backs of humanity. Humans were little more than slaves, toiling endlessly to feed the insatiable greed and hunger of their immortal overlords. Vampires controlled all wealth, power, and governance, while humans were treated as expendable resources—walking food banks to sustain their eternal lives. The world was a dark, oppressive place, with humanity living in fear and subjugation under the cold, unyielding grip of their vampiric masters.
Yet, deep within the ancient scrolls and whispered legends of the vampire elite, there was a prophecy—a foretold calamity that had haunted their kind for millennia. It spoke of a great awakening, a moment when humanity would rise and shatter the chains of their oppression. The vampires dismissed it as myth, a tale to frighten fledglings. But the prophecy was real, and its time had come.
The Mass Awakening was unlike anything the world had ever seen. Humans, long suppressed and broken, suddenly began to manifest extraordinary powers—magic, strength, and abilities that rivaled even the mightiest of vampires, along with a system of leveling and gaining skills. It was as if the universe itself had tipped the scales, granting humanity the tools to reclaim their freedom. The vampires, once invincible, now found themselves outmatched and outnumbered. The humans, fueled by centuries of resentment and rage, turned the tables with brutal efficiency.
Vampires were hunted like rats. Rebel human forces issued kill-on-sight orders, and the once-proud rulers of the world were slaughtered en masse. Countries fell one by one, their vampiric leaders executed in gruesome public displays—hoisted on poles and left to burn in the sunlight, their ashes scattered as a symbol of humanity's triumph. The wealth and assets of the vampire elite were seized, redistributed to rebuild a world free from their tyranny.
Some formidable vampires attempted to fight back, but the humans struck strategically, attacking during daylight hours when their enemies were at their weakest. The vampires' numbers dwindled rapidly, their once-vast population reduced to a scattered few. When the last Vampire State fell, the hunting slowed, and humanity turned its attention to rebuilding the world in its own image—a human-centric society where the horrors of the past would never be repeated.
The surviving vampires, now a desperate and endangered minority, fled to the remote corners of the world—icy mountains, dense forests, and barren wastelands where humans rarely ventured. But their exile came at a cost. Cut off from their primary source of sustenance—human blood—their strength waned. Without it, they grew weaker, their immortality fading as they struggled to survive in a world that had no place for them.
The age of vampires had ended, and the age of humanity had begun. But in the shadows, the last remnants of the vampire race lingered, waiting, plotting, and dreaming of a day when they might rise again. The world had changed, but the ancient prophecy had not yet reached its final chapter. There was still someone out there—the last piece that would determine whether the vampire race would survive this calamity or not.
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It was cold. Biting cold. The winds raged through this hellish desert of a wasteland. Not a single tree could be seen; as far as the eye could reach, only white, cold snow flooded the vision. The moonlight bounced off its surface, creating a beautiful scene in this hellish climate.
In this extreme environment, where even animals hid in their caves to survive the cold night, movement could be seen in the middle of the field. The figure of a woman moved forward, her steps heavy but quiet as they sank deep into the snow. She wore high leather snow boots and a long, hooded black cape. Her appearance was disheveled, to say the least. Her pale white skin was marred by blue blood and dirt, her clothes torn with large claw marks that revealed the skin underneath, along with long scars from wounds.
Her face, however, was still and calm, like an ice statue. Her red eyes didn't blink, even as the chilly winds struck them. Her short black hair was also matted with blood and dirt, her cheeks smeared with gore. Despite the extreme cold, her body wasn't shivering. Only faint, occasionally foggy breaths escaped her lips as she sighed.
In her hands was a thick rope, coiled several times in her right hand, as she dragged something tied to the other end—a large corpse of a Level 20 Dire Wolf. The head alone was more than half the height of the woman, yet she pulled it with minimal effort. Its body was white, covered in thick fur coated with blue blood, and numerous large holes were pierced throughout its frame.
As she walked with nonchalant casualness, a twisted smile broke through her icy demeanor. A smile of excitement. She had succeeded again. After weeks of wandering these wastelands, she had finally found prey. Now, she would surely be rewarded by her Mistress.
"Ehehehe…" Her smile turned more maniacal as she felt a thrill coursing through her still heart. What fun would it be? She wondered.
She kept walking in a similar fashion, leaving deep marks in the snow made by the dragging of the wolf's body. Finally, her destination came into view.
The grand estate, a fortress carved from black rock, stood as a grim monument to a bygone era. Its towering walls and watchtowers, battered by relentless icy winds, served as a reminder of the vampires' once-unassailable power. Now, it was a crumbling sanctuary for the last of their kind, who eked out a meager existence in this frozen wasteland, far from the reach of vengeful humanity.
Within the heart of the estate, in a brilliant study room adorned with white marble—a stark contrast to the bleak exterior—stood large bookshelves lining the walls. At the center was a marvel of craftsmanship: a beautiful oak desk. Behind the desk sat the mistress of the estate.
Krista Demise Spilledblood, her expression grave, held a yellowish leaf of parchment—a letter that had just arrived via a bat that now perched on her shoulder. Her clear red eyes were wide as she read the letter, utterly engrossed in its contents. Her fingers gripped the letter tighter and tighter, sparks of lightning cracking around her. The desk shook, papers and stationery falling to the floor. Her teeth clenched tightly enough to produce a cracking sound.
Unfortunately, the caped woman chose this very moment to barge into the study room. The door flung open with a swoosh as her defiled and sticky figure stepped in eagerly.
"Mistress, I am back! Finally, I have—" The woman stopped mid-sentence upon feeling the intense bloodlust that now permeated the chamber. Her Mistress's face, though strikingly beautiful, sent a chill of fear down her spine—along with an intense arousal.
*So the letter finally came. What bad timing,* she thought, stepping backward, her hand on the door as if trying to close it and leave before she was noticed.
But of course, she had already been noticed. Krista's red eyes moved from the letter to her face, unblinking as always.
"Dianelle," she spoke, her tone dry but clear. "You are on time."
Krista stood up, her black gown rustling with movement, accentuating her curves, which were in all the right places. With a rough hand, she crumpled the letter in her fist, her knuckles turning white. The bat sensed the tension in the air and quickly flew back out the window.
"I know I am late, Mistress. It's very hard to find any game this time of year. Most monsters are hibernating. But be assured," she said, thumping her chest, "I didn't come back empty-handed. A dire wolf lies slain outside. We can cut it up and—"
"You are on time," Krista cut her off, walking closer to Dianelle, locking eyes with her. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she took in the stench clinging to Dianelle's clothes. But that didn't stop her from running a finger along Dianelle's neck, her long nail leaving behind a thin line of blood behind its trails
Dianelle gulped loudly, not daring to move even an inch. Her body shivered with the familiar thrill as Krista whispered in her ear.
"Get yourself cleaned up. We are leaving right now," she stated, not bothering to explain further.
"Leaving? To where, Mistress?" Dianelle asked meekly, the wound on her neck already regenerating. Krista stopped in her tracks, the crushed letter still in her fist, and turned back, giving Dianelle an intense look. Her long, brilliant black hair fluttered in the wind like a banner.
"To dominate the world."