The night was silent when Kevlar and Lilith arrived at the outer edge of the Covenus western border. Moonlight glimmered faintly across the rugged cliffs, casting long, trembling shadows where reality thinned. The rift into the Shadow Realm rippled like a dark wound carved between worlds — a point where even seasoned hunters felt unease.
Lilith stopped, her eyes shimmering with a faint violet glow.
“They’re watching,” she whispered.
Kevlar exhaled in amusement. “I know.”
Hidden high among the canyon’s jagged rocks, several Covenus border scouts held their breath. They had sensed movement — or rather, the lack of it, an eerie distortion in the surrounding darkness. And then, like a passing breeze, two figures materialized briefly as silhouettes.
Kevlar and Lilith stood still, gazing directly at the ridge where the hidden watchers were.
Lilith smirked.
“You really want them to see us?”
Kevlar nodded. “They would find out anyway. Better to let them know we walk openly now… without fear.”
He stepped forward.
And then — their bodies dissolved effortlessly into the shadows.
The scouts gasped silently as they watched the two vanish into the rift. Not fade. Not blink out.
Disappear, swallowed by the darkness as though it were welcoming them home.
A message clearer than any spoken word:
We let you witness this. Try and follow. If you dare.
The scouts immediately retreated to report.
Within the hour, the Covenus stronghold trembled with whispers:
The Shadowborn crossed into the Shadow Realm. And by his side… an Ancient One.
The Covenus High Seat assembled in the war chamber. Blades, runes, and ancient tomes decorated the walls. The Matriach of the family, Mereth Covenus, frowned deeply as the captain of scouts finished the report.
“So they crossed willingly,” Mereth muttered.
“No concealment. No misdirection.”
“Almost like a taunt, My Lady,” the captain added nervously.
“As if daring us.”
Mereth leaned back in her obsidian throne, fingers drumming on the carved armrest.
“Send a message to the hunter division. Prepare a scouting expedition. Officially… we will call it an exploratory assessment of Shadow Realm instability.”
A thin smile curled at the corner of her lips.
“But we all know better.”
It was time for Covenus to move.
Far south-west, the Callus expedition rode through a small bustling town, armored coats gleaming under the morning sun. Lucien led at the front, his cloak marked with the golden sigil of the Callus heir.
They approached the town guard, and Lucien raised a hand.
“We seek any sighting of suspicious figures — possibly two dressed in black — passing through this region.”
The guard exchanged nervous glances before nodding.
“Yes, sir. A few days back… we saw two silhouettes exiting Whispering Woods. Hard to see clearly from afar, but the direction they headed… was toward Covenus territory.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Lucien’s eyes narrowed.
“It’s him,” he said quietly, confident.
Sarville, walking beside him, remained silent. But his mind was a storm.
Why is this happening…? And why now?
Since when did the Callus family obey Vatican decrees?
We were allies once — not subordinates.
Lucien turned to his men.
“We move to Covenus. We will request their records and cooperation. And inform them—”
His voice strengthened.
“—that we are authorized by Vatican decree to hunt the Shadowborn.”
Sarville’s heart tightened.
Something felt wrong. Terribly wrong.
But Lucien’s determination was absolute.
The Covenus fortress-city rose against the horizon like a crescent of silver and obsidian. Tall spires shaped like spearheads pierced the sky, surrounded by dense forests that echoed with the presence of trained hunters.
When Lucien and his delegation entered, they were greeted by an emissary robed in dark blue.
“Welcome to Covenus stronghold, heir of Callus,” the emissary said, bowing.
“We have received the Vatican’s decree regarding your… mission.”
Lucien nodded.
“We appreciate your cooperation.”
The emissary smiled politely, but his tone held a faint sting.
“Of course. When the Vatican commands, even great families must… respond.”
Sarville flinched, catching the subtle jab immediately.
Lucien tensed but held his composure. “We are only following protocol.”
“Protocol,” the emissary repeated with a half-smile.
“Certainly.”
He gestured for them to enter the grand hall.
Mereth Covenus, draped in a mantle of dark fur and silver plating, sat upon the stone throne. Her presence was suffocating — raw killing intent wrapped in calm discipline. The aura of a hunter who had slain hundreds of vampires.
Lucien could feel sweat forming at his palms just standing before him.
“Welcome,” Mereth said.
“We acknowledge the Vatican’s decree… quite an interesting development. I suppose congratulations are in order. The golden child of Callus, entrusted with such a grand task.”
Her voice sounded respectful — yet beneath it was sarcasm sharp as a blade.
Lucien bowed formally.
“We intend to fulfill the decree with utmost diligence.”
Mereth smiled thinly.
“Hm. Tell me, Lucien Callus… Since when did the proud Callus family answer commands from the Vatican? I thought your people prided themselves on independence.”
Lucien felt his throat tighten.
Sarville subtly stepped forward.
“My Lord Covenus, the decree was interpreted as cooperation—”
Mereth raised a finger and the entire hall fell silent.
“I was not addressing you, Sarville Callus… slayer of a vampire lord you may be, but do not speak over me.”
Sarville gritted his teeth.
Lucien bowed his head.
“We hold the Vatican’s words in high regard, but we are here of our own volition.”
“Of course you are,” Mereth said smoothly.
“Let us call it… aligned intentions.”
She then gestured to the side door.
“Enter.”
Footsteps echoed as a young woman strode gracefully into the hall.
Tall, poised, carrying the elegance and lethality of her bloodline —
Eslene Covenus, heir of the Covenus hunters.
Her long raven-black hair flowed behind her, and her golden eyes assessed Lucien calmly, almost indifferently.
“My daughter,” Mereth introduced.
“She will accompany your expedition. Covenus will not stand idle while the Shadowborn moves freely.”
Lucien straightened.
“Lady Eslene. It is an honor.”
Eslene bowed lightly — respectful, but not humble.
“Worry not for my safety, heir of Callus,” she replied coldly.
“I can protect myself. It is others who should guard themselves.”
Lucien blinked.
She… reminds me of someone.
Strong, confident, unshaken.
He bowed politely.
“Even so… I request your support on this mission.”
Eslene’s sharp demeanor softened just enough to show acknowledgment.
“You will have it.”
Far west, beyond mountains and long stretches of cursed land, Kevlar and Lilith reached the first true boundary of the Shadow Realm.
A vast plain of violet mist and jagged floating stones stretched out before them.
The air here felt heavier, colder — yet familiar to Lilith.
Kevlar stopped and looked back.
Behind them, Whispering Woods shimmered faintly in the distance — their home for seven long years.
He exhaled.
“So it begins.”
Lilith stepped beside him and gently touched his cheek and reminding him again
“Are you ready?”
Kevlar cracked a faint smile.
“They should be asking that.”
Lilith laughed, soft and melodic.
“Oh, again...I can’t wait to see the looks on those Royal vampires' faces when they realize who’s coming for them.”
But Kevlar’s tone shifted.
“Let focus. We are here to find him… Draculius.”
Lilith’s expression warmed — rare, genuine.
“Alright alright...” with a light chuckle.
As they continue their walk ahead the curse black land.
Behind them, Covenus hunters marched toward the west.
And along with them, Lucien Callus and the Vatican-backed expedition advanced in pursuit.
Three forces, three intentions — all converging toward a single shifting realm of darkness.
The world was moving.
And the Shadowborn walked at its center.
