«L-Lyon… what's happening…?»

Kimberly's voice shakes with fear as she moves closer to me, following my gaze out the window.

An eclipse.

Something I've never seen before stands between us and the moon—a sphere darker than the night itself. The darkness is overwhelming, swallowing everything around us. The faint glow of the small moon struggles to break through, offering only enough light to glimpse what lies beyond the glass.

«That's…» I mutter, my voice trembling. I remember so clearly the unease, the fear in Ayra's eyes when she spoke of it. «…the Dark Moon…»

«The Dark Moon? And what is that supposed to be?» Kimberly asks, confused and alarmed. «Neither my mistress nor any other familiar has ever mentioned anything like it! How do you even know this?!»

I can only assume Ayra let something slip, something I was never meant to know. Not that it surprises me much…

«In short, when the Dark Moon rises—»

A horrific, primal sound rips through my words, sending a chill racing down my spine. Kimberly, frozen just like me, instinctively clings to my arm.

Then it comes—a howl. The most terrifying, savage growl I've ever heard, echoing from somewhere beyond my sight. And yet, despite the distance, it hits us like thunder.

Our unease multiplies when—to that single howl—another rises, then another, and another still. Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands. They overlap, weaving together from every direction.

«Wolves…?» Kimberly murmurs, her voice trembling, terror creeping into every syllable.

«lycan,» I clarify, fixing my gaze on the horizon, bracing for the moment they emerge from the darkness.

«According to… well… a certain informant, these creatures draw their power from the Dark Moon. Alone, they're far weaker than a vampire, but in a pack they become dangerous—even to the strongest vampires. Their real threat is in their numbers—there are dozens of times more lycan than vampires. From what I was told, the rise of the Dark Moon and the ensuing lycan assault happens often enough, and those attacks have always been repelled without much trouble.»

«I see…» Kimberly sighs, partly reassured. «Then why keep it from us? Soon enough, everyone in the dorm will see it with their own eyes.»

«I suppose it was to stop us from planning an escape in advance,» I answer. It's the only explanation that makes sense. Taken by surprise, overwhelmed like this, none of us could hope to organize a large-scale escape. If we had known beforehand, things might have been different.

«Those damned mutts are advancing! Prepare for battle!»

The voice of one of the vampire soldiers guarding the dorm tears through the night.

At his command, the Crimson Army troops line up with perfect discipline. A surge of crimson energy bursts from their bodies, arming them with weapons of every kind.

I narrow my eyes, sharpening my vision—and there they are. Dark silhouettes rising in the distance, moving fast and relentless—a black tide rushing forward to swallow everything in its path.

Each passing second sharpens their forms.

They are true werewolves, almost exactly as humans imagine them. Most stand around three meters tall, black-furred, sprinting on all fours. But among them are others—taller, nearly twice the size, covered in silver fur, striding upright on two legs.

Their small, yellow eyes gleam in the dark, just like their sharp claws, glowing the same color. The black-furred lycan emit a smoky white energy, while the silver-furred ones exude a much denser, heavier aura—clear proof of their superiority.

That endless horde is mostly lycan, but they are not alone. As they draw closer, other terrifying beings come into focus. Towering green- and brown-skinned giants, massive though not quite as tall as the silver lycan, wielding clubs and heavy weapons. They must be the orcs Daphne mentioned—the enslaved race, forced into labor.

Above the monstrous army fly small demonic creatures, their copper-colored, skeletal bodies paired with bat-like wings. They clutch light, elongated weapons—spears and javelins.

Further back, slowed perhaps by their bulk, march other races. Still too far to make out clearly.

It looks like a large-scale revolt of the races enslaved by the vampires. They must have waited for the rise of the Dark Moon—the moment of peak power for the lycan—to unite and strike against their oppressors.

Their numbers are immeasurable, their march shaking the ground—even the dorm walls tremble. No matter how far I strain my eyes, the monstrous army seems endless, stretching beyond the horizon. And yet, the vampire soldiers guarding the dorm number only in the hundreds.

«I'm scared…» Kimberly whispers, clinging even tighter to me. It's only a matter of moments before panic spreads uncontrollably through the dorm. I hear the frantic, pounding footsteps of other familiars echoing in the halls, mixed with desperate cries.

Finally, when the enemy army moves into range of the vampires' magic, a soldier gives the signal.

In an instant, a dense barrage of crimson energy bursts from the rear—a rain of hundreds of deadly beams shooting at impossible speed, crashing into the front line and detonating in a chain of blinding, devastating explosions.

The darkness over the battlefield is torn apart by a rapid sequence of red flashes. A moment later, chunks of flesh and organs are hurled into the air, falling back down in a downpour of meat and blood.

After the first barrage comes a second, then a third.

The corpses of countless lycan, orcs, and other creatures pile up, forming heaps of entrails, severed limbs, and shredded carcasses. Blood of every shade spreads across the battlefield beneath them.

Yet the massive silver-furred lycan emerge almost unscathed. Even after taking direct hits from the vampires' offensive, they continue their relentless advance, protected by that mysterious white aura, which must have dulled the impact.

And not only them—the small winged demons, using their speed and flight, manage to evade the slaughter. They climb just high enough to escape the spell's range and… they're heading straight for the dorm!

Damn it! They're trying to break in through the windows!

Without hesitation, I grab Kimberly by the arm—she's frozen in horror at the massacre—and drag her away before the demons can reach us.

We have to run… but where? Leaving the dorm isn't even an option—outside is surely more dangerous than within these walls. But locking ourselves inside this room isn't much better; we'd be trapped, unable to move freely.

The only option now is to regroup with the other familiars as quickly as possible and hope these little demons aren't stronger than they look.

I'm about to dash out with Kimberly when a series of piercing, shrill screams from outside suddenly grabs my attention.

As they near the window, the closest winged demons suddenly drop like flies—one after another, their bodies consumed by scarlet flames as they touch a red, semi-transparent wall that only now becomes visible.

When the demons see their companions burned alive, they halt the assault. They keep fluttering near the windows but don't press forward.

I let out a breath of relief—thanks to the vampires' effective countermeasures, we seem safe inside—but it doesn't last long. The swarm parts, opening a gap, and from the farthest edge of the horde, devastating red beams of energy erupt, hammering the barrier.

Struck again and again, the semi-transparent wall begins to crack dangerously, until...

—CRASH!

It shatters into countless fragments, like glass struck by a stone, right before my eyes, my heart pounding with dread.

Those crimson beams that destroyed the barrier around the dorm… yes, this is without doubt Sanguis magic—the magic of vampires! How can that be?!

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