The Morvain estate looked nothing like a battlefield that evening.
Golden lights hung from crystal arches, reflecting softly off polished stone and glass. Music drifted through the open halls, light and cheerful, played by hired performers who had no idea they were standing on borrowed time. Guests filled the garden and banquet halls—nobles, merchants, academy representatives—laughing, drinking, exchanging stories as though the world were perfectly safe.
Julien stood near the outer edge of the main hall, hands in his pockets, eyes roaming.
He wasn't enjoying the party.
Not because it was unpleasant.
Because he knew.
Tonight, he thought, this is where everything breaks.
He had done what he could without drawing attention.
He had quietly asked the guards to double their patrols near the eastern wall.
He had memorized the shortest routes from the banquet hall to the inner chambers.
He had positioned himself where he could see both the main garden and the corridor leading to the family wing.
And most importantly—
He kept Joshua close.
His younger brother ran around with other children, chasing lantern-light reflections on the floor, laughing freely. Every few minutes, Julien subtly repositioned himself so he was always within ten steps.
Don't wander too far, he told himself. Just stay where I can reach you.
Across the hall, Alicia moved with calm efficiency, greeting guests, guiding servants, maintaining order without ever looking rushed. She looked exactly like the future Student Council President she was meant to be.
Helior stood near the central garden, speaking quietly with several veterans. His posture was relaxed, but Julien noticed it—the slight shift of weight, the hand never straying far from where a weapon would be.
The old war hero was ready.
Maria and David were helping coordinate the evacuation routes for the children and elderly guests, disguised as simple hospitality arrangements.
Everything was prepared.
And yet—
Julien felt uneasy.
Not fear.
Something worse.
This is going too smoothly.
A distant sound reached his ears.
Not music.
Not laughter.
A dull, hollow thud—far away, near the outer wall.
He stiffened.
Then another.
The lanterns flickered.
Just once.
Julien exhaled slowly.
Here we go.
The first scream cut through the music like a blade.
A guard near the eastern gate was lifted off the ground and slammed into a pillar, blood spraying across white stone. The illusion of peace shattered instantly.
Shadows poured over the walls.
Figures leapt from rooftops and trees—pale, inhuman shapes with crimson eyes and elongated fangs.
Vampires.
Guests screamed.
Children cried.
The musicians fled.
Helior moved first.
He vanished from his spot and reappeared in the air, his fist crashing into a vampire's skull with enough force to turn it into mist. The shockwave split the garden tiles.
Alicia drew her rapier in a single smooth motion.
"Evacuate the inner hall!" she commanded. "Parents first, then children!"
She cut down a lunging vampire mid-sentence, not even breaking her stride.
Julien didn't move.
Not yet.
His eyes locked on Joshua.
"Joshua!" he shouted. "Come to me—now!"
Joshua froze, startled.
Then—
A section of the balcony collapsed.
Stone, wood, and metal rained down near the children's play area.
A baby's cry rose from beneath the rubble.
And Joshua turned.
"No!" Julien shouted.
But Joshua ran toward the sound.
"Someone's trapped!" the boy yelled.
Julien swore and sprinted.
Too slow.
A vampire dropped from above, landing between Joshua and the rubble.
Its eyes gleamed.
Helior was fighting three others.
Alicia was escorting guests.
No one else was close enough.
"Joshua!" Julien screamed.
The vampire lunged.