The forest west of Bloodfort was silent, blanketed in heavy snow. The moonlight made every flake glitter like shards of glass, but the silence was deceptive—danger stirred beneath it.
A masked figure stood with one horn jutting from his forehead, his pointed ears twitching at every sound. He folded his arms and muttered toward the man meditating beside him.
"Hey. Why are we wasting time here? Isn't an all-out war about to start? Shouldn't we, you know, be there?"
The black-haired man slowly opened his eyes, golden irises gleaming like molten coins. His earring swayed slightly as he exhaled.
"Lord Vorthas ordered us to stay here," he replied with calm finality. "We are to observe and report the outcome. We do not interfere."
The horned demon clicked his tongue. "So that's why you dragged these mobs along?" He jerked his chin toward the twenty vampires gathered in the snow. Their eyes glowed faintly crimson, the strongest among them a Rank 4.
