June was a month of chaos—restless monsters, wild magic, and the ominous crimson moon that loomed over the land. While the powerful, the mages, and the authorities referred to it as the "Crimson Moon" or the "Magical Month," the common folk knew it by a different name: the Month of Calamity.
It was during this turbulent time that Vlad decided to take a risk. Despite not being a master mage, his natural affinity for the magical winds and his substantial reserves of power placed him above the average sorcerer in raw strength. Over the years, he had begun to unravel the mysteries of this month and the crimson moon itself. As a skilled psychic—or, in this world's terms, a battle mage—Vlad knew how to navigate this storm, much like a seasoned sailor mastering the tides, winds, and currents of the ocean.
While life among the vampire nobility was harmonious, it didn't mean Vlad could afford to be complacent. As a noble heir, he was destined to join the military at sixteen, becoming a warrior who would fight to expand and defend their territory.
The battlefield was ruthless, and enemies cared little for titles. Vlad's father, the previous Count of Carstein, had fallen in battle six years ago, mere months before Vlad's birth. The young count had been cleaved in two by an orc warchief while he was preoccupied with commanding his army of the undead. The loss of their commander rendered the fifteen thousand undead soldiers useless, leading to a devastating defeat in the Battle of the Southern Wastes.
The defeat cost Sylvania a tenth of its military and a twentieth of its territory, leaving vast plains open to the ravages of the orcs. The grief-stricken Countess, Vlad's mother, had gone into premature labor, possibly explaining why Vlad retained his memories of his past life.
Though destined to become the head of House Carstein, Vlad felt no particular attachment to his parents. While he acknowledged their role in his existence, their deaths had come as a relief. He addressed his sister Isabella by name rather than title, and his mother simply as "Lady Winslow," a formality that displeased them both.
The Countess believed her son's distant demeanor stemmed from her own aloofness. Overwhelmed by the responsibilities of managing the household after her husband's death, she often avoided Vlad, seeing too much of his father in him. Isabella, on the other hand, took offense at Vlad's refusal to call her "sister," resorting to childish pranks to assert her authority.
To Vlad, these pranks were laughably simple to navigate. The traps, baits, and lies were so transparent that he often wondered if engaging with them was lowering his intelligence. The real challenge was feigning ignorance or barely escaping these "schemes" to maintain the facade of a precocious but not overly brilliant child.
Over time, Vlad developed a foolproof countermeasure: playing along, pretending to fall victim to Isabella's pranks, and exaggerating the harm done. This would inevitably draw her out, her concern overriding her mischief, and allow Vlad to turn the situation to his advantage.
Amused by this game, Vlad couldn't help but find some enjoyment in teasing his sister. To outsiders, it appeared to be harmless sibling rivalry, though Vlad knew better.
As he prepared for his late-night excursion, a mischievous smile crossed his otherwise innocent face. A faint whisper of pain struck the necks of the maids outside his door, plunging them into a deeper sleep. This was Vlad's usual method for ensuring his comings and goings remained unnoticed—though Maya, his blood provider, was an exception. She took a special sedative after her duties and thus required no additional "assistance."
The sprawling Castle Drakenhof was sparsely populated by the living. Aside from the handful of servants, only Vlad and Isabella resided within its walls. The Countess was often away, attending to family affairs or political duties, while other members of House Carstein either had their own estates or were engaged in public service.
This didn't mean the castle was undefended. Far from it. The number of undead stationed within its walls far exceeded that of the living. These weren't the frail, haphazardly assembled skeletons seen on the battlefield. These were elite warriors—veterans of countless battles, renowned fighters, and valiant knights in life, reborn through necromantic arts into something far more formidable.
Though reduced to bones, these undead were faster, stronger, and more lethal than they had been in life. Clad in black iron armor etched with magical runes, they wielded long halberds or shimmering swords and shields, their empty eye sockets glowing with eerie green flames. These were the Grave Guards, the elite vanguard of Sylvania's armies and the personal guardians of the vampire nobility.
The Grave Guards patrolled Castle Drakenhof tirelessly, their presence a constant reminder of its impregnability. Yet, as Vlad walked past them, they showed no reaction. To them, he wasn't an intruder—he was their master, the future Count of Carstein, the one they were sworn to protect.
The mindless obedience of the undead was both a blessing and a curse. They would follow any order without question, even if it meant turning against their creator. A deranged necromancer could command his undead minions to kill him, and they would do so without hesitation unless ordered otherwise or destroyed.
As Vlad ventured deeper into the castle, he couldn't help but marvel at the silent sentinels who watched over its halls. Their unyielding loyalty was both a testament to the strength of House Carstein and a reminder of the eerie world he now called home.
With the crimson moon casting its bloody glow over the land, Vlad's thoughts turned to the future. The battles he would face, the responsibilities he would shoulder, and the legacy he would inherit—all of it lay ahead, waiting to unfold.
For now, though, he had a mission to complete. And as he moved through the shadows of Castle Drakenhof, the Grave Guards stood watch, silent and unwavering, their presence a constant reminder of the power and peril that defined his life.