The Tale of The Fallen Primordial

Once outside, the moonlight bathed the streets in a silvery glow, amplifying the shadows that clung to every corner. The damp air carried a faint chill, a stark contrast to the warm, bustling interior of the Adventurers' Guild. Zuka's golden gaze lingered on the distant palace spires, their stark white surfaces faintly illuminated in the moonlight. He turned to Noir, his posture tense.

"Why didn't you press for more?" Zuka's voice was low and firm, laced with frustration. "We barely have enough to act on."

Noir's grin widened, his sharp teeth glinting faintly as if catching the moonlight itself. "Too many questions invite suspicion," he replied, his tone light but deliberate. "We know what we need—a noble, a Duke, and whispers of magic. The rest will unravel if we follow the threads."

Zuka frowned but gave a reluctant nod. "What's our next move?"

Noir's smirk softened into a contemplative expression, his crimson eyes scanning the empty streets. "We find an old friend," he said, his voice deliberate and low. "Someone who sees beyond what simple men can. If this city hides its truths in shadows, we'll drag them into the light."

Without waiting for a reply, Noir moved toward a narrow alleyway hidden from the main road. The damp stone walls seemed to lean inward, their surfaces slick with condensation. The air grew colder, heavier with a foreboding stillness. Zuka followed silently, his sharp eyes tracking every flicker of movement, his muscles taut and ready.

At the alley's deepest point, Noir stopped and raised one hand. His claws glinted faintly as he began to chant, his words flowing with a rhythm that seemed to resonate through the charged air.

"Summoning, Sage of Aeons; Unmei o tsumugu mono yo, kokū kara tachiagari, uchū no kokoro ni koku ma reta kotoba o katare."

The air rippled, and a deep hum vibrated through the cobblestones beneath their feet. A faint, ethereal glow tore through the darkness, and from the void stepped an ancient high elf. His long, silvery hair shimmered like liquid moonlight, cascading over his shoulders, and his piercing eyes burned with the weight of centuries.

"You dare summon me again, you insolent wretch?" the elf hissed, his voice regal and venomous, as his gaze fixed on Noir with unrestrained contempt.

Noir's grin widened, unapologetic. "Ah, Elyndris. Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

"Friend?" Elyndris sneered, his lip curling with disdain. "You bound me to your service against my will. That is not friendship; it is enslavement."

"And yet I've been nothing but gracious," Noir countered with a shrug, his tone casual. "But let's not waste time. I need information." He gestured toward the distant skyline, where the palace spires loomed like silent sentinels. "Tell me everything unusual about this place—magic, power, anything that doesn't belong. What whispers linger in the cracks of this city?"

Elyndris's sharp gaze swept across the skyline, his expression darkening. When he spoke, his voice carried an oppressive weight, each word deliberate. "There is a massive reserve of magical energy on the outskirts of this town," he said slowly. "Underground. Blood magic, old and arcane. The power comes from multiple sources. You're dealing with vampires. Many of them. At least a few centuries old."

Noir's crimson eyes gleamed with interest, his grin spreading. "Vampires," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. "How delightful."

"These are not mere bloodsuckers," Elyndris said, his voice sharp with warning. "They hunger for more than blood. They feed on magic, life essence itself. Even you, dragonkin, would be vulnerable if you aren't careful."

Noir's laugh was low and dark, his amusement edged with malice. "Let them hunger. It will make their fall all the more satisfying."

Elyndris hesitated, his disdain giving way to a grim, reluctant acceptance. "If you insist on walking into this den of predators, I'll help. But only because I value my existence more than my disdain for you."

Noir's grin widened. "That's the spirit, Elyndris. I knew you'd come around."

Zuka muttered under his breath, his tone tinged with annoyance. "You both bore me… Light Magic, Teleportation."

An enchanted circle light appeared beneath them, and In an instant, they vanished from the city.

The three reappeared at the mouth of the cave, where the Dragonoid soldiers, standing guard nearby, immediately straightened. Their wings folded neatly as they saluted.

Noir glanced at his brother, a smile tugging at his lips. "Well, it seems I'm not the only one with secrets. You never told me you had such a useful skill. We could've teleported from the start, dear brother."

Zuka shot him a sarcastic look. "That's because I can only teleport to places I've already been. Besides, the journey was… fun, wasn't it?"

Kaizen stepped forward, his expression calm but tinged with curiosity.

"You've returned, my lords. Did you find anything?" His sharp gaze flicked toward Elyndris, whose ethereal glow seemed almost unnatural. "And… who is that?"

Noir waved dismissively. "My summon, Elyndris Virelith, a high elf. He's informed us of a significant reserve of magical energy nearby. Underground. Blood magic. Old and potent. It's vampires—many of them, likely centuries old."

Kaizen's composure faltered slightly, his brow furrowing. "Vampires?"

Noir turned to Zuka, his tone darker, more calculated. "Yes. And the Duke? He might be their puppet… or the one pulling the strings."

Zuka crossed his arms, his golden gaze steady. "Either way, we'll bait them. Draw them out. Whoever is behind this won't resist an offer too tempting to ignore." He turned sharply, his gaze landing on one of the soldiers. "You there. Step forward."

The soldier obeyed without hesitation, saluting crisply. "Kieran Wolfhart, my lord."

"Kieran," Zuka said, his tone firm. "Remove your armor. Go to the city and purchase cheap clothes. Dress as a commoner in a tattered cloak. Then head to the Duke. Tell him you're a messenger for two merchants offering elves from the Forest of Kain—mostly females, and a high elf. If they ask for names, refer to Noir as Blanche and me as Trevor. Understood?"

Kieran nodded deeply. "It shall be done, my lord."

Without hesitation, Kieran began removing his armor piece by piece. The polished metal clinked softly as he set it aside, revealing a wiry yet powerful frame marked with faint scars. He unfastened his mask last, his sharp features hardening with determination before he donned a tattered cloak. Without another word, he disappeared into the night.

Elyndris's mocking voice broke the silence. "When you say high elf, I hope you're not referring to me."

Noir chuckled. "It most certainly is."

Elyndris scowled but held his tongue, the tension between them palpable.

Kaizen hesitated, then asked carefully, "But my lord, why send the soldier? Why not go yourselves? Is it… to test the Duke's strength? Or to ensure the trap is sprung safely?"

Zuka shook his head, his expression steady. "Neither. Important merchants don't deliver their own messages. Sending a messenger shows we're players in this game, but it doesn't yet reveal how much."

Noir chuckled softly, giving his brother a nod of approval. "Well said, I taught you well, dear brother. This is a game, after all. A game of power. Every move counts. We tread carefully or risk giving the enemy the advantage."

He turned toward the city, the faint glow of its lights visible over the hills. His smile grew sharper, gleaming like a blade. "Now, the next move is theirs. And so begins the Kogetsu Gambit."

Kaizen froze as the words lingered in the air. His thoughts drifted to a chessboard from years ago, Noir's voice echoing in his mind: "A gambit is when you sacrifice a piece or two to gain an advantage on the board."

Kaizen's gaze flicked back to Noir, unease creeping into his thoughts. What does he plan to sacrifice? Or who?