King Darrhen of Karthia was not a man who believed in monsters. He believed in power—the power of armies, of wealth, of divine blessing. As he stood atop the hill overlooking what remained of General Arvid's camp, his confidence wavered for the first time in thirty years of rule.

  "Five thousand men," he murmured, surveying the field of corpses yet to be buried. "Five thousand of my finest warriors, sughtered by a single woman."

  Beside him, High Priest Valen clutched a staff topped with a luminous crystal that pulsed with divine energy. "Not a woman, Your Majesty. Something else—something that wears the shape of Queen Lilith but is no longer human."

  "You assured me the gods would protect us," Darrhen said, his voice dangerously quiet. "You said this campaign had divine sanction."

  "It does," Valen insisted, gesturing to the priests who surrounded them, each bearing simir blessed weapons. "What happened here was... unexpected. The Eternals did not foresee that the people of Highcrest would sacrifice themselves willingly to transform their queen."

  "And now?" Darrhen asked. "Will your blessed weapons be enough against this... this creature?"

  Valen's fingers tightened around his staff. "The weapons have been consecrated in the light of all seven Eternals. They are designed to sever the connection between unnatural beings and their source of power." His confidence seemed to return. "We may not have anticipated her transformation, but we are prepared to counter it."

  At the edge of the group, a scout approached cautiously and knelt before the king. "Your Majesty, movement from Highcrest Castle. A single rider approaches under a fg of parley."

  Darrhen's jaw tightened. "Another trap?"

  "No, Your Majesty. It appears to be Lady Merina, the queen's former advisor."

  Darrhen exchanged gnces with Valen. "Former?"

  "Bring her to me," Darrhen ordered. "Let us hear what message Queen Lilith sends through her servant."

  Lady Merina, once poised and elegant, now appeared haunted as she was escorted into the king's tent. Her eyes darted nervously to the blessed weapons carried by the priests stationed at each corner.

  "Lady Merina," Darrhen said coldly. "You come under the protection of parley. Speak your queen's message."

  Merina wet her lips, her hands trembling slightly. "Her Majesty Queen Lilith offers you one chance to withdraw your forces. Return to Karthia with those who still live, and there will be no further bloodshed."

  A ripple of disbelieving ughter passed through the tent.

  "The creature that sughtered five thousand men speaks of mercy?" Valen scoffed. "We come with the blessing of the Eternals themselves. We come to cleanse this nd of abomination."

  Merina's eyes hardened. "I have delivered the queen's message faithfully. What happens next is your choice." She turned to leave, then paused. "I was there when she transformed. I watched her tear through Arvid's army alone. Whatever you think you know about her power, whatever your gods have told you—it is not enough."

  After she had been escorted out, Darrhen turned to his generals. "Prepare for battle. We march at dawn."

  Lilith stood on the castle ramparts, watching the approaching army through the pre-dawn mist. Ten thousand men moved with disciplined precision across the valley, their armor catching the first hint of morning light. In their midst, dozens of priests carried staffs and weapons that glowed with divine energy.

  Master Thorne joined her, his face grim. "The blessed weapons," he said. "They're designed to harm beings like you—to sever your connection to the power you've gained."

  Lilith nodded. She could feel the divine energy even at this distance—it prickled against her enhanced senses like needles against skin. "They may be more effective than ordinary weapons, but they are not infallible."

  "How can you be certain?"

  She turned to him, her crimson eyes reflecting the dawn. "Because I carry within me the willing sacrifice of a thousand souls. Their faith in me was pure—not compelled, not coerced. They gave themselves freely, not to gods who abandoned them, but to a queen who remained."

  Inside her, she could feel those souls still—not as separate entities, but as a collective force that had become part of her being. Their memories, their love for the children they left behind, their trust in her protection—all had fused into something powerful beyond mere physical strength.

  And beyond the souls she had absorbed, she felt something else: the faith of the children. In the days since her transformation, many had begun to look at her with something beyond fear—a fierce, desperate hope. They believed in her. Not as a distant deity demanding worship, but as a protector who had promised them safety in a world turned hostile.

  "Ready our defenses," she told Master Thorne. "Get the children to the innermost chambers. I will meet them on the field alone."

  "Your Majesty—" he began to protest.

  "This is not a battle for human soldiers, old friend. Any who stand with me will only die."

  As the sun cleared the horizon, Lilith walked out from the castle gates, alone as before. Instead of a simple shift, she now wore armor of midnight bck, custom-forged since her transformation. Her unbound hair moved in an unnatural breeze, and her eyes bzed like twin embers in the morning light.

  Across the field, King Darrhen sat astride his warhorse, fnked by High Priest Valen and his personal guard. The armies of Karthia spread out in perfect formation behind them—infantry, archers, and cavalry arranged for maximum efficiency.

  At Darrhen's signal, a lone herald rode forward, stopping halfway between the two forces. "Queen Lilith of Highcrest," he called, his voice carrying across the battlefield. "You stand accused of heresy against the Eternals, of unnatural transformation, and of the sughter of King Darrhen's soldiers. Surrender now for judgment, or face the wrath of both mortal and divine powers."

  Lilith smiled, her fangs visible even at this distance. "I have already faced divine wrath," she called back. "The gods took my husband and my children. They left me with nothing to lose." Her voice changed, taking on the resonant quality that had emerged during her transformation. "But I am not defenseless as they believed. I am not alone as they pnned."

  She raised her hands, and the air around her seemed to shimmer. "I am not merely Lilith anymore. I am the vessel of a thousand willing sacrifices. I am the guardian of a thousand orphaned children. Their faith flows through me as surely as their blood once did through them."

  The priests shifted uneasily, their blessed weapons pulsing more intensely in response to her words. High Priest Valen stepped forward, raising his staff. "Your dark magic cannot stand against the light of the Eternals!"

  A beam of brilliant energy shot from his staff toward Lilith. She did not dodge. The divine light struck her squarely in the chest—and dispersed around her like water breaking against stone. Where it touched her armor, it sizzled and smoked, but did not penetrate.

  A gasp went up from the Karthian lines.

  "My turn," Lilith said, her voice deadly quiet.

  What followed was not a battle—it was a sughter. Lilith moved through the Karthian ranks with supernatural speed, a blur of bck armor and deadly precision. Soldiers fell by the dozens, then hundreds, their life force feeding her growing power. Cavalry charges broke against her like waves against a cliff. Arrows either missed entirely or struck without effect.

  When the priests managed to coordinate their blessed weapons, firing simultaneously, the combined divine energy did pierce her defenses. Lilith screamed as holy fire burned through her shoulder, the wound smoking with celestial energy that fought her healing. The pain was excruciating—far beyond what she had experienced as a mortal—but the wound closed within seconds, fought back by the collective power of the souls she carried and the faith directed toward her.

  Learning from this partial success, Valen organized his priests into a circur formation. They channeled their energy into a single mighty beam that struck Lilith head-on as she dispatched a group of elite guards. This time, the divine power knocked her backward, burning through her armor and into her flesh. She fell to one knee, her body smoking, agony coursing through her veins like liquid fire.

  "The abomination falters!" Valen cried. "Press the attack!"

  King Darrhen himself led the charge, his sword glowing with blessed energy. As he brought it down toward Lilith's neck, she caught the bde between her palms. Blood—darker and thicker than human blood—ran down her arms as the blessed edge cut into her flesh. The pain was blinding, but she held firm.

  "You should have accepted my offer of mercy," she hissed through clenched teeth.

  With a surge of strength, she snapped the blessed bde and drove the broken half through Darrhen's heart. As his life ebbed, she leaned close to his ear. "The gods you serve so faithfully did not save you. Remember that in whatever afterlife awaits."

  High Priest Valen, seeing his king fall, directed all the priests to focus their power on a single devastating attack. The combined beam of divine energy struck Lilith like a physical blow, sending her sprawling across the battlefield. Her armor cracked, her skin blistered and burned. For a moment, it seemed the blessed weapons might prevail.

  But deep within her, something responded to the divine assault. The thousand souls she carried surged with protective energy. In the castle, watching from high windows despite being told to hide, children whispered her name like a prayer: "Queen Lilith, protect us. Save us. Return to us."

  Their faith, born of desperate hope rather than religious doctrine, flowed to her across the distance. It formed a shield against the divine weapons—not impenetrable, but resilient enough to allow her healing to overcome the blessed fire that sought to consume her.

  Lilith rose slowly to her feet, her body regenerating even as the priests poured more power into their attack. Each step toward them was agony, each wound that closed only to be reopened a fresh torment. But she advanced inexorably, drawing on the combined strength of willing sacrifice and innocent faith.

  When she reached the circle of priests, their expressions shifted from righteous determination to terror. Valen backed away, his staff wavering.

  "Impossible," he gasped. "No creature could withstand the combined blessing of all seven Eternals!"

  "I am not merely a creature," Lilith said, her voice distorted by pain and power. "I am what your gods created when they thought to punish me. I am vengeance incarnate."

  She moved through the priests like death itself, each one falling to her cws or fangs. When only Valen remained, she grabbed him by the throat and lifted him from the ground.

  "Tell your gods," she said, "that Queen Lilith of Highcrest sends her regards. Tell them their judgment has been rejected. Tell them what they created when they took everything I loved."

  She did not kill him. Instead, she cast him aside with enough force to break bones but not end his life. "Go. Be my messenger. Let all the realms know what happens to those who threaten my kingdom."

  By midday, the battlefield had fallen silent except for the moans of the wounded and dying. Of the ten thousand who had marched with King Darrhen, perhaps a thousand remained alive, most injured too severely to retreat without aid. Lilith stood amid the carnage, her armor in ruins, her body healed but still wracked with phantom pain from wounds that no longer existed.

  The divine weapons had hurt her—hurt her beyond what she had thought possible since her transformation. But they had not stopped her. Nothing, she now knew, could stop what she had become.

  In the days that followed, Lilith established a new order in her kingdom. The surviving Karthian soldiers were given a choice: pledge loyalty to their new queen or join their fallen comrades. Most chose life, though few could look directly at the crimson-eyed monarch who had single-handedly destroyed their army.

  The orphaned children were organized into a structured community within the castle, with the older ones taking responsibility for the younger. Lilith spent time with them each day, learning their names, listening to their fears and hopes. Despite her terrifying appearance and the rumors of her bloodthirsty battles, many of the children came to see her as a protector rather than a monster. Their acceptance was a balm to the rage that still burned within her.

  A month after the Battle of Divine Light, as it came to be known, Lilith gathered the adult survivors of her kingdom in the great hall. There were few enough that all could fit comfortably—loyal knights who had fought to protect the castle, servants who had tended the children, merchants and craftspeople who had survived the divine attack.

  "Our kingdom has been reborn through blood and sacrifice," she told them. "We have weathered divine wrath and mortal armies. But we remain vulnerable."

  She paced before them, her movements fluid and predatory. "The other realms watch us. They fear us, yes, but fear breeds desperation. Some will try again what Karthia attempted—to destroy that which they do not understand."

  Lady Merina, who had gradually overcome her fear of her transformed queen, stepped forward. "What would you have us do, Your Majesty?"

  "I offer you a choice," Lilith said. "Remain as you are—loyal subjects of a changed kingdom. Or join me in transformation. Become something more than human, as I have become. Gain the strength to protect our children for centuries to come."

  A murmur ran through the assembled adults.

  "This is not a decision to make lightly," Lilith cautioned. "The transformation is painful. The hunger that follows is... challenging to control. We will need blood to sustain ourselves—which means not everyone can become as I am. Some must remain human, for the survival of all. And there may be other consequences I myself have not yet discovered."

  A knight stepped forward—Lieutenant Darian, who had survived the divine attack though badly scarred. "I saw what those so-called gods did to Lord Luca," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I watched helplessly as they took the royal children. I will not be helpless again." He knelt before her. "I offer myself to your transformation, Your Majesty."

  One by one, others joined him—Lady Merina, Master Thorne (despite his advanced age), the remaining knights, servants who had cared for the children, craftspeople who wished to continue their trades for centuries rather than mere decades.

  "Very well," Lilith said, deeply moved by their loyalty. "But know this—we transform not to conquer, but to protect. We become monsters so that our children need not fear other monsters. This kingdom will be a sanctuary for them, and for generations to come."

  That night, in a ceremony that echoed but inverted the blood ritual that had transformed her, Lilith shared her power with her chosen subjects—carefully selected to maintain the bance Master Thorne had spoken of. Less than a quarter of the adults would undergo the change, with the remainder pledging to provide blood and continue the essential work of the kingdom.

  One by one, the chosen drank of her dark blood and underwent the agonizing metamorphosis into beings like herself—not quite as powerful, for they cked the thousand souls that strengthened her, but faster, stronger, and longer-lived than any human. Like their queen, they discovered that sunlight did not harm them—another myth that would ter be attached to their kind but did not reflect their true nature.

  By dawn, the first vampire court in history had been established. Their skin had paled, their eyes had taken on the crimson glow of their queen's, and their teeth had sharpened to points. Yet they retained their minds, their memories, their devotion to their realm.

  Those who remained human established a new covenant with their transformed kin: they would provide blood regurly through controlled feeding rituals. In return, they would receive protection, extended lifespans from small quantities of vampire blood mixed into their food, and positions of honor within the kingdom. It was a symbiotic retionship unlike any that had existed before—neither svery nor equality, but a new social order born of necessity and mutual benefit.

  One year after the divine attack that had shattered her family, Queen Lilith stood in what had once been the royal nursery. The children's beds had been preserved exactly as they were on that terrible day—Elena's favorite doll still sitting atop her pillow, Alden's wooden horses arranged in careful formation on his bedside table.

  She ran her fingers over these treasures, these tangible memories of what had been taken from her. The rage that had fueled her transformation and her victorious battles still burned within her, banked but undiminished. Yet alongside it had grown something unexpected—a sense of purpose beyond vengeance.

  The orphaned children of her kingdom now numbered over two thousand, as refugees from neighboring realms sought the protection of the vampire queen. They were educated, cared for, trained in various arts and skills. When they reached adulthood, they would face an important decision—to remain human and provide sustenance for the transformed, or to join the ranks of the vampires themselves. The bance was carefully maintained; for every child who chose transformation upon reaching adulthood, four would need to remain human to sustain the growing vampire popution.

  Lady Merina, now adjusted to her vampiric nature, entered the nursery quietly. "Your Majesty, the council awaits you. The expansion of the eastern wing is ready for your approval, and there are reports of another group of refugees at our borders."

  Lilith nodded, taking one st look at her children's belongings. "I will join you shortly."

  When Merina had gone, Lilith knelt beside Elena's bed, touching the blue stone amulet she now wore constantly around her neck—the one Luca had given her before they were separated.

  "I will find you," she whispered. "All of you. If it takes a thousand years, I will search every realm the gods control. And then I will make them pay for what they've done to us."

  She rose and moved to the window, looking out over her transformed kingdom. The castle had been rebuilt, enrged to accommodate the growing popution of orphans. The vampire court patrolled the borders, ensuring no threat came near their charges. In the vilge below, life continued—altered but not ended by the divine catastrophe and its aftermath.

  "A kingdom of night," she murmured, watching as her transformed subjects moved with inhuman grace through evening shadows. "Born of sacrifice, built on faith, sustained by blood."

  She turned away from the window, her decision made. The time had come to expand her search beyond the mortal realm. If the gods had scattered her family across different worlds, then she would need to find ways to travel between them. If divine power had torn them from her, then she would need to acquire power that could challenge the divine.

  The path ahead would be long, but Lilith had one advantage the gods had not anticipated: time. As a vampire, she had centuries, perhaps millennia, to pursue her quest. And unlike mere immortality, her power continued to grow with each passing year, nourished by the faith of her subjects and the blood of her enemies.

  "Prepare for a journey," she told Merina when she joined the council. "I go to seek knowledge beyond our borders—knowledge of realms beyond our own."

  "And the kingdom while you're gone?" Master Thorne asked.

  Lilith smiled, her sharp fangs gleaming in the torchlight. "The kingdom endures. The children grow. And when I return, I will be one step closer to finding what was taken from us."

  In the celestial realm, the Eternals watched with growing unease as their punishment of a defiant mortal queen transformed into something entirely unexpected: the birth of a power that might, given enough time, challenge their own.