The moon hung low over the training grounds nestled deep within the shadowed hills just outside Velmora. Day one of the trials had ended with a storm of whispers and awe. Kenneth's outburst still echoed in the halls of the academy. Rumors swirled like wildfire, painting him as something both terrifying and noble. Now, far from the murmuring students and suspicious glances, Kenneth trained under the cold stars, his sweat glistening as he moved through his combat forms.
Zarek darted beside him, releasing controlled bolts of lightning from his fists while Kael sat by the corner, eyes glowing faintly as he tinkered with a gauntlet laced with compact holographic emitters. Malrik stood silently, arms crossed, watching both boys with a gaze both proud and heavy.
"Focus your center, Kenneth," Malrik instructed. "Your instincts are raw. Channel them without relying on rage."
Kenneth exhaled, his breath forming pale mist in the night air. "I'm trying. It's harder after what happened. I can still feel the echo of him beneath my claws."
Zarek gave him a glance, not of fear, but understanding. "Well, try not to claw me up next," he muttered with a grin.
The peace shattered in that instant.
A cold wind tore across the clearing, rustling leaves and extinguishing nearby torch flames. Shadows coiled unnaturally, and from the darkness, seven cloaked figures emerged like phantoms, moving in silent unison.
Malrik's eyes widened, and for the first time in years, a whisper of dread slipped into his voice. "Shadow Squad…"
Kenneth's eyes narrowed. "Who?"
"The royal assassins of the vampire kingdom," Malrik growled, already unsheathing his long black dagger. "Elite. Loyal only to the throne. We need to—"
The first blow came from above. One assassin, faster than thought, dropped from the canopy and slammed Zarek into the earth with a bone-cracking force. The clearing erupted.
Kael immediately activated a dome-shaped energy shield as another assassin lunged at him with blood-forged daggers. The shield flickered under the blows, but held. Kenneth leapt into the fray, fists wrapped in glowing blood energy, clashing against one of the assassins whose techniques mirrored his—but sharper, more refined. Every move Kenneth made was met with counterpressure, as if he were fighting a mirror perfected by centuries of discipline.
"They know your techniques," Malrik shouted, parrying two simultaneous strikes from twin-bladed assassins. "They were trained in the royal blood schools. Their bloodcraft is older than yours."
Zarek crackled with electricity and slammed a bolt into the chest of his attacker, only for it to be absorbed by a runic talisman hanging around the vampire's neck. "These guys are cheating!" he yelled, ducking a scything blade.
Kenneth grunted as he was thrown backward, landing hard on a boulder. Blood trickled down his cheek. Another assassin stepped forward—this one clearly a commander. His voice was low, aristocratic.
"Prince Kenneth. Your existence is an abomination. The king sends his regards."
Malrik launched himself like a spear, intercepting the commander mid-sentence, his dagger glowing red with pure blood energy. The two clashed violently, their battle tearing through trees and stone.
Kael activated several drones that fired plasma rounds to keep his attacker at bay, but another assassin joined the assault. Two-on-one. He grimaced. "A little help!"
Kenneth looked around. Zarek was pinned beneath two assassins, coughing blood. Kael's defenses were crumbling. Malrik held the commander, but barely. The others were too skilled, too experienced, their blood techniques slicing through his every defense. For the first time, he felt something he hated—helplessness.
And then... something broke.
A voice whispered, not from the outside, but from the molten core of his spirit. Are you really going to let them die?
His heartbeat slowed, but his blood surged. A deep, primal growl began in his chest. His eyes shifted—not red, but molten gold rimmed with shadow. Muscles bulged. His nails lengthened into claws, and fur exploded across his arms, chest, face. His bones snapped, realigned, reformed into something larger, faster, deadlier.
Zarek, barely conscious, opened one eye and whispered, "Oh no…"
A monstrous howl shattered the sky as Kenneth Prince fully transformed.
The assassins turned, just a second too late.
Kenneth blurred through the first, rending him in two with a single swipe. Blood sprayed across the trees as he turned and grabbed the second by the head, slamming him into a boulder with such force that the stone shattered. The third tried to activate a glyph, but Kenneth was already on him, fangs sinking deep into his neck. The assassin screamed until his windpipe was torn out.
Kael's jaw dropped as the remaining assassins turned to flee—but Kenneth didn't let them. He chased, faster than anything they could prepare for, claws slashing, tearing, devouring. Screams echoed through the night until silence reigned again.
Malrik stood panting, now alone with Kenneth and the corpses. Kenneth turned, fur dripping blood, eyes wild. Then... he stopped.
He sniffed the air. The taste of Zarek's blood... Kael's fear... It sobered him. Slowly, with agonizing restraint, he forced the beast down, bones cracking again as he shrank back into human form, covered in gore and breathing like a wild animal caged.
No one spoke.
Zarek finally sat up and wiped blood from his mouth. "Dude… remind me never to make you mad."
Kael simply stared, eyes haunted and amazed. "That was... not in my calculations."
Malrik walked forward slowly, placing a hand on Kenneth's shoulder. "They found us. Which means the king knows you're alive. And he won't stop at assassins next time."
Kenneth looked up at the moon, still half-wild. "Then let him come."