For two centuries, Valerius Dracul had conquered kingdom after kingdom, watching empires crumble beneath his hands. He was ruthless, a tactician unlike any other, a being beyond human limits. His name alone sent chills down the spine of kings and queens, whispers of his unstoppable reign spreading like wildfire.

  Yet, in all his years of conquest, there was one empire that refused to fall.

  Lirielle.

  It was an enigma, a kingdom surrounded by walls no army could breach. He had sent spies, assassins, and even legions of his strongest warriors, yet none had ever returned. Some cimed they were swallowed by the nd itself. Others whispered of a power beyond mortal understanding protecting its borders.

  But Valerius did not believe in myths. Only in power and strategy.

  Tonight, he would take matters into his own hands.

  With his enhanced speed, strength, and centuries of battle experience, he infiltrated Lirielle under the cover of darkness. His presence was like a shadow—silent, unseen, deadly. He had memorized the kingdom’s weak points, the shifting guard rotations, and the blind spots of their defenses. And yet, as he moved through the streets of Lirielle, something unsettled him.

  It was too quiet.

  The air itself felt different, thick with something unseen. He had fought in countless wars, had stood against the greatest warriors, but this… this was something else.

  Unlike ordinary men, Valerius was no mere mortal. He carried the blood of Dracu, the first and most powerful vampire to ever exist. His body was unaging, his wounds healed faster than any human’s, and his strength was beyond comprehension. He could see in the dark as if it were daylight, hear the faintest of whispers from miles away, and move faster than the eye could follow. And yet, despite all this, something about Lirielle made him feel… vulnerable.

  Then, he saw them—the people of Lirielle. Unlike the fear-driven citizens of other kingdoms, they did not look over their shoulders in terror. They walked the streets with an unshaken confidence, as if they knew something he didn’t. As if they believed nothing could touch them.

  Why? What made them so sure?

  He pressed forward, reaching the heart of the empire. The grand pace stood before him, its towering spires bathed in the silver glow of the moon. This was it—the seat of the ruler who had defied him for years. The woman who had outmaneuvered him at every turn.

  Empress Lysara Everdawn.

  He had studied her. A ruler unlike any other. Some cimed she was a master strategist, always a step ahead, making decisions that defied all logic yet somehow always led to victory. Others described her as something more—a woman who could see through time itself, an untouchable goddess in human form.

  Ridiculous. No mortal could be beyond reason.

  And yet, standing before the pace, he felt it—that same unease that had nagged at him all night.

  A sudden presence brushed against his heightened senses. Someone was near.

  Valerius turned sharply, his crimson eyes glowing in the darkness. His fangs, concealed most of the time, pressed slightly against his lips, a sign of instinctual awareness. His body tensed, every fiber of his being ready to strike. No human had ever been able to sneak up on him. No mortal could ever hide from his senses.

  Yet, someone had.

  Then, a voice shattered the silence.

  “I was wondering when you’d finally come, Valerius Dracul.”

  He turned sharply.

  There she was, standing at the top of the grand staircase. She was unlike what he had expected. She was regal yet effortless, her golden eyes glowing softly under the moonlight. And then—before his very eyes—those golden eyes changed, turning a deep, knowing blue.

  As if she could already see the next move he would make.

  For the first time in centuries, Valerius hesitated.

  And in that moment, he realized—Lysara Everdawn was no ordinary opponent.

  Valerius narrowed his eyes, his mind working fast. He had prepared for this moment, had imagined countless ways their first meeting would unfold. Yet, standing before her now, something about her presence threw off every calcution he had made.

  She was not afraid.

  Not even the slightest hint of fear flickered in her expression. Instead, she watched him with an almost amused curiosity, like a queen observing a challenger who had unknowingly stepped into her domain.

  His instincts screamed at him—this was dangerous.

  Lysara descended the steps slowly, her long gown trailing behind her like liquid silver. The way she moved was unnatural—too fluid, too controlled, as if time itself bent to her will. Her golden eyes shifted again, this time turning a soft violet as she regarded him with something unreadable.

  “So, the infamous Valerius Dracul has finally decided to stop sending pawns and face me himself.” Her voice was calm, steady, carrying an eerie certainty—as if she had expected this moment long before it happened.

  Valerius took a step forward, testing the space between them. “Your kingdom has defied me long enough,” he said, his voice low, dangerous. “I have conquered countless empires, broken rulers far stronger than you. And yet, here you stand.”

  Lysara tilted her head slightly, a small smile pying at her lips. “Because you don’t understand, do you?”

  He stilled. “Understand what?”

  Her smile widened just a little, a knowing glint in her ever-changing eyes. “Why you keep failing.”

  Something inside Valerius tightened. He had spent years, decades even, trying to solve the mystery of Lirielle. Every strategy, every logical step he had taken had been countered perfectly, as if someone had seen his every move before he even made it.

  Lysara took another step closer, closing the space between them until she was only a few feet away. Up close, she was even more striking, her presence almost… unreal.

  “Tell me, Lord Dracul,” she said softly. “Do you believe in fate?”

  Valerius scoffed, his crimson eyes narrowing. “Fate is a word for those who ck control over their own lives.”

  Lysara hummed, as if she had expected that answer. Then, with the same eerie calmness, she said, “And what if I told you that no matter what you do, no matter how many times you try—Lirielle will never fall?”

  Valerius felt something cold coil around his chest. Not fear—no, he did not fear. But there was something unsettling about the certainty in her voice, the absolute confidence in her words.

  For the first time in centuries, he felt like he was the one being watched. As if, for once, he was the prey.

  Lysara smiled, her golden eyes shimmering like dawn breaking over an endless horizon. “Welcome to Lirielle, Valerius Dracul,”.