At night, Tyrosh was brightly lit, with public oil lamps on both sides of the streets—something rarely seen in other cities. Whether noble or commoner, after a long day of work, people would come out in the evening to relax and enjoy the cool air.
The streets and taverns were crowded with people, but the relaxed atmosphere was soon disturbed by the shouts of the City Watch. Onlookers stood by the roadside or leaned against window sills and doorways, watching squads of soldiers run past, their torches illuminating the night.
Aside from the officers, who were veteran soldiers, the City Watch was composed entirely of new recruits. These fresh soldiers had been enlisted for less than a week and had yet to complete even the most basic training before being thrown into duty.
Though they wore the same uniform, their actions were anything but coordinated. Their movements and speech easily revealed their backgrounds—some were vagrants who swore profusely, others were sturdy farmers unfamiliar with noble etiquette, and a few were soft-handed apprentice craftsmen.
"Hey, Ingo! Over here!"
A half-drunk craftsman standing at the entrance of a tavern spotted a familiar face among the running recruits and immediately called out.
The young soldier turned his head. "It's you! Are you drinking? Get me a cup!"
Seeing him approach, the craftsman hesitated. "The City Watch is making such a big fuss—you must be on duty, right? You still dare to drink?"
Drinking on duty was strictly forbidden in the Tyroshi military. Every citizen, including foreign merchants, knew this rule well. The craftsman held his cup but dared not pass it over.
The two seemed to have a good relationship, as the recruit simply snatched the cup from the craftsman's hand and downed it in one gulp. "What's there to be afraid of? A little drink just gives me courage!"
Since the drink was already gone, the craftsman could only sigh and take back his empty cup. "They declared martial law without informing the people—what the hell is going on? The whole city is in chaos!"
"I don't know the details. Orders from above told us to grab our gear, take torches, and run through the streets shouting about catching vampires. Maybe it's some kind of beast? Strange things happen in Tyrosh all the time."
Ingo glanced up toward the highest point in the city—the great lighthouse. At its peak, a massive enchanted eye rotated constantly, scanning every street below.
Other tavern-goers followed his gaze. "The eye is blue, so it shouldn't be anything too serious. Probably some merchant's exotic creature got loose again—it happened just last month."
"Ingo, what the hell are you doing? Get back here!"
The ten-man squad was about to turn a street corner when the squad leader noticed Ingo loitering by the tavern door. He yelled in frustration and stormed toward him.
"Can't talk anymore—I gotta go!" Seeing his superior approaching, Ingo hurriedly ran back to his unit.
As he passed the squad leader, a loud thud echoed—he had been kicked right in the rear of his armor, nearly sending him tumbling to the ground.
"You little bastard! You've barely grown a few hairs and you're already drinking?!"
Laughter erupted from inside the tavern.
The City Watch was structured into ten-man squads, and all the recruits were young men from Tyrosh, ranging from thirteen to eighteen years of age. Ingo was the youngest in his squad.
His family were stonemasons from Greenstone in the Stormlands. His father often boasted about participating in the Tyroshi Wars, though in reality, he had merely hauled grain at the docks. When Tyrosh was established, the family relocated under the direction of Lord Estermont.
While training as a stonemason under his father, Ingo became fascinated with the growing number of sculptors in the city. Whenever he had free time, he would sneak off to observe them, learning their craft in secret. His talent was undeniable—he learned quickly and had a natural gift for carving. He even earned a few gold dragons recently by replicating a statue of Wright. Just as he thought his future lay in sculpture, the City Watch announced a recruitment drive.
The Tyroshi City Watch wore silver-white armor and sported golden crowned stag cloaks draped over their right shoulders. Under the command of the Sword of the Morning's, Ashara Dayne, every soldier held themselves to the ideals of knighthood, striving to maintain order. It didn't matter if you were a commoner, a merchant, a drunken navy officer, or even a noble—if you caused trouble, you got beaten down. It was the most prestigious force in the city, the dream of many young boys.
Abandoning a family tradition of stonework for a career in the military? Ingo's father had hesitated but ultimately decided it was worth it—he still had two other sons to carry on the craft. Since Ingo was well-fed and stronger than his peers, he altered his age on the enlistment papers to meet the minimum requirement of thirteen.
Their squad leader, Dom, was a veteran of the Dornish Wars. He had lost all but his thumb on his left hand during battle. Amidst the chaos, his severed fingers were lost, and the mage who treated him had no choice but to amputate the entire hand, leaving only the thumb to anchor a prosthetic.
Despite their short time together, Dom cared deeply for his recruits. Since they were all local boys, he had hoped to keep them out of trouble during their first real mission. But Ingo's drinking was giving him a headache—if a superior officer caught the scent of alcohol on him, the entire squad would be flogged.
Just then, a horn sounded from the southern part of the city.
"Move faster! We're heading to the south gate!" Dom quickened the pace, hoping to make Ingo sweat out the alcohol.
"Back to the south gate!"
"If we pass my house, I'll treat you all to my mother's pies!"
"My house has plenty of fine wine—I'll treat everyone to a drink!"
Many of the young men in the squad lived in the southern part of the city. The moment they heard they were heading there, laughter and chatter spread through the ranks as they all saw it as an opportunity to host their newfound friends.
The group rushed past the southern city wall and arrived at the grand plaza, where a large force of city guards had already gathered. Their squad captain, Dom, ordered them to form ranks before heading off to consult with other officers. As Ingo and the others stretched their sore legs, the sky suddenly turned yellow.
"This is big trouble!" his companions murmured. They had seen the sky take on this eerie yellow hue before—each time, it had heralded an invasion.
"Brothers, weapons out!" Ingo roared before Dom could return.
Ten battle axes were drawn from their belts—no, not just ten. Every single city guard in the plaza, numbering in the hundreds, had already armed themselves.
Dom ran back just in time to see Ingo rallying the squad, nodding in approval. "Listen up! Follow the yellow light wherever it shines. This time, the enemy has already infiltrated the city. To defend our home, we must kill every last one of them, no matter what they are!"
"To the death!"
"Follow me!"
The people of Tyrosh, upon seeing the "Eye of Wright" turn yellow, immediately shut their doors and windows. Many who were drinking in taverns or dining in restaurants found themselves stranded, waiting for the city guards to eliminate the enemy.
The candelabras in the temples surrounding the plaza were lit one by one as priests and clerics began their prayers.
Ingo and his comrades, wielding their battle axes, rushed past the Dragon Cult's temple and charged into the streets.
"Shut your windows and doors!"
"Hurry up!"
They shouted as they ran, for in the distance, buildings were already aflame, and the cries of battle rang through the streets.
By the time Ingo's squad rounded a corner and arrived at the scene, all they found were the fallen bodies of city guards, scattered axes, pools of blood, and severed limbs. Yet, there was no sign of the enemy.
"Any survivors?!" Captain Dom's fury boiled over at the sight of his slain comrades, his eyes turning bloodshot as he roared.
Boom! A burning building collapsed.
Sparks and smoke rushed toward them, and Ingo and the others instinctively pulled their cloaks over their helmets to shield themselves.
Dom, however, stood firm, letting the embers wash over him as he scanned the ruins with wide eyes.
"Over there! Charge!" he bellowed, spotting a shadow leaping from the wreckage.
The fires were not confined to a single building—someone was deliberately setting them.
The city guards converged from all directions, following the trail of yellow light. The encirclement slowly tightened around the southern district's workshop area.
"Kill!"
"Monsters! Monsters!"
"Help me!"
By the time Ingo's squad arrived to reinforce their comrades, more city guards had fallen—yet the enemy remained unseen.
"That's my home!" Ingo suddenly cried out in horror, spotting his house among the burning buildings. He dashed forward like a madman.
"Ingo, don't be reckless! Follow orders!"
Ingo didn't look back. Dom waved his hand, ordering the entire squad to follow.
The yellow glow in the sky deepened, turning into a blood-red radiance that swept over the southern district in concentrated beams. Clouds churned above, their reflections casting Tyrosh in a crimson hue.
The Eye of Wright was no longer just a means of detection—it now unleashed powerful illusions, consuming even more magical energy. In a castle study, Tyene, Sansa, and Quaithe took turns maintaining its power.
Ingo's home was a three-story house with a small courtyard. The outer gate was still intact, but as soon as he kicked it open, he saw his neighbor, the carpenter, lying lifeless on the ground.
"Aahh!" A woman's scream echoed from upstairs.
"Mother!" Ingo bolted up the stairs.
"The enemy is inside! Blow the horn!" Dom, who had just arrived in the courtyard, ordered his men to signal for reinforcements.
The horn's call had already sounded throughout the southern district—this was no isolated attack. The entire workshop quarter was filled with cries of alarm.
Just as Ingo reached the third floor, before he could reach his own door, he saw his father's body crash through it, flying over the railing.
Even as he tumbled through the air, Ingo could see his father was still alive, though wounded in multiple places. Their eyes met—his father reached out a trembling hand as if to touch him.
Ingo lunged forward in desperation, but it was too late. He could only watch as his father plummeted into the courtyard below, lifeless.
"Mother! brother!"
Enraged, Ingo suddenly snapped back to his senses—his family was still inside.
Stepping over the shattered door, he was met with a gruesome sight.
A green-skinned monster with extra limbs on its back held a severed head in one hand, while two strange men were drawing an unknown magical array on the floor using fresh blood.
"Die!"
That head belonged to his family. Ingo's mind went blank—there was no hesitation, no doubt, only the desire to hack these creatures apart and avenge his loved ones.
His battle-axe struck down hard on the back of the nearest stranger, sinking deep into the ribs. The man let out a pained scream and, with a single kick, sent the armored Ingo flying. He crashed through a table and two chairs before slamming against the wall, the impact so severe he nearly blacked out.
The man, without so much as a glance at Ingo, twisted his arm around, pulled the axe from his own back, and threw it aside. Ignoring the blood streaming from his wound, he continued drawing the magical array, muttering under his breath, "Just one more step—just one step away from eternal life!"
"Kill!"
At that moment, Dom and the squad burst into the house.
They spared no time checking Ingo's condition. Just one look at the grotesque green-skinned creature told them everything—they either killed it, or none of them would make it out alive.
With furious war cries, the soldiers' axes fell. The two men drawing the array screamed as they were hacked into pieces.
Dom, meanwhile, charged straight for the monster.
The creature didn't dodge. Dom's battle-axe struck its neck with full force.
"So tough!"
The moment his axe made contact, Dom realized something was wrong. The monster's flesh and skin were unnaturally strong—even with all his might, his blade barely sank an inch into its neck.
"Hah—!"
The creature's right hand shot out, clamping onto Dom's arm. Its mouth opened wide, revealing two sharp fangs as it lunged toward his throat.
Dom struggled with all his strength, but he couldn't break free from its grip.
The other soldiers rushed in, axes swinging. But this time, the monster didn't take the attacks head-on. Instead, it raised its left hand, casting a spell.
"No!"
"Mother!"
The moment the soldiers' axes were about to land, their bodies convulsed violently. Their faces twisted in agony, tears streaming down their cheeks as they were overwhelmed by unimaginable pain.
Ssshhh!Ssshhh!Ssshhh!
A mist-like sound echoed as their blood evaporated into the air, seeping out from every pore of their bodies. The crimson droplets gathered in front of them before flying into the monster's outstretched palm, disappearing into its skin.
The gaping wound on the monster's neck—the one Dom had managed to inflict—began to heal rapidly.
"A vampire!"
The remaining soldiers, who had yet to attack, finally realized what they were up against. It wasn't just some grotesque being—it was a true blood-drinking nightmare.
"You monster! AHHH!"
Dom's left arm was still trapped. The vampire had cast some sort of magic, paralyzing half of his body. Desperate, he gripped his battle-axe with his free right hand and swung at the creature's head.
"AAAHH!"
Dom let out a pained scream.
His axe never landed. Two sharp appendages from the creature's back shot forward, their razor-sharp tips piercing into Dom's right arm.
Now, fully revealed in its true form, the vampire had two normal arms, but the extra limbs on its back were no mere decoration. They were like the skeletal remains of bat wings—deadly, powerful, and razor-sharp.
"GRRRAH!"
With his arms trapped, Dom resorted to biting the vampire's shoulder in sheer defiance.
The creature paused, briefly considering turning Dom into one of its own. But after a moment's thought, it abandoned the idea.
By now, the soldiers affected by its spell had been completely drained. Their bloodless corpses, shriveled inside their armor, collapsed lifelessly to the ground. Fear and despair were frozen in their eyes.
With a powerful yank, the vampire tore both of Dom's arms from his body and kicked him aside, leaving him to die.
The remaining recruits panicked. They tried to flee, but they didn't make it far—before they could even reach the door, the vampire ripped them apart, sending chunks of flesh and armor flying across the room.
However, in the process, the flames from the recruits' torches had licked its skin.
To an ordinary person, it was nothing. But to the vampire, the small burns left behind charred, blackened scars.
The creature glanced down at its wounds, confused. It was as if it had only just realized its weakness to fire.
Then, turning its gaze toward Dom and Ingo, it stepped forward.
It was time to feast.
Whiiizz!Whiiizz!
A pair of strange whistling sounds cut through the air.
"SSSKRREEEE!"
The vampire let out a piercing, agonized screech.
Ssssss!Ssssss!
Two silver-white crossbow bolts had embedded themselves in its back. Its flesh reacted violently, sizzling as smoke rose from the wounds, the seared flesh hissing under the silver's burning touch.