BLOOD MOON : THE LAST LINEAGE

Chapter Four: The Vampire of Bloodmoon

They came in the night, masked by fog and greed.

Five men — armed and trained by the United Alliance of the World — crept silently through the shadowed woods. Their target wasn't a warrior… or even a fortress.

Their target was an infant.

"He's here," one whispered, crouched near the roots of an ancient tree. "The last Bloodmoon. The red-eyed child."

They spoke like hunters, as if taking a baby's life would restore balance to the world.

Fools.

They didn't know who waited in the dark.

A branch snapped.

One turned—too late.

A blur ripped through the fog, and in a flash of crimson light, the first man's body was slammed into the tree with such force that bark exploded outward. His skull never had a chance to scream.

The others scattered in panic, blades drawn, scanning the darkness.

Then came the voice.

Low. Calm. Beautiful… and dangerous.

"You came here… for a child?"

A pause.

"No. You came here… to die."

Out of the mist stepped a man.

Min.

Bloodmoon's last vampire.

Hair white as bone, eyes glowing red, and a smile so calm it chilled the soul. His bare hands dripped red from the first kill. He wore no armor. Only silence.

"You think," he said, flexing his fingers slowly, "we're all extinct?"

One of the men screamed and charged.

Min didn't move.

When the attacker struck, Min caught the blade with two fingers — and crushed it like glass.

Then he struck once — an upward palm to the chin — and the man flew into the sky, vanishing between trees. No one heard him land.

The others turned to flee.

Too slow.

Min blurred again — weaving through fog, shattering knees, ripping muscles, crushing ribs with blows too fast to see. One tried to beg. The other tried to call for backup.

Neither got a chance.

Within seconds, all five lay broken.

The trees were quiet again.

Min exhaled slowly, brushing a speck of blood from his cheek. Behind him, nestled beneath thick roots and hidden wards, was a small sleeping figure.

Patrick.

The last heir of Bloodmoon.

Min turned to him.

Still untouched. Still breathing peacefully.

Not one enemy had gotten within ten feet of the boy.

"Rest, little one," Min whispered, crouching beside him. "Let monsters like me carry the weight."

Then, with eyes still glowing and heart still burning, Min disappeared into the forest once more — silent as the grave, fast as vengeance.