Chapter 111: A Rare Existence

Midnight on the rooftop of a building.

The night air felt charged with anticipation as Aron stood on the rooftop, his ebony armor gleaming faintly in the moonlight. A gift from his mentor Thyra at the end of the three months of training.

He was observing with a steely gaze, a certain three-story building adorned with banners bearing the emblem of a white bird's claw—the headquarters of the White Falcons.

Raising his hand deliberately, Aron targeted the building. His eyes ignited with a crimson fire as he spoke in draconic.

"Isolate"

With a simple command in the ancient language of dragons, reality itself bent to his will, an invisible bubble of energy instantly covered the whole building isolating it from the rest of the world. Nothing could get in or out without Aron's permission.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Aron turned back to the astonished onlookers behind him, none comprehended the language or the power he wielded, save for Thyra, who wore a proud smile as she gazed at their mouth-wide-opened faces.

'Hehehe~ Do you see what my training could do'

Aron stood in front of a woman with long black hair tied in a ponytail. He locked eyes with her distinctive violet eyes for a time.

"Is everything ready?" He inquired, his voice deep and authoritative.

Kasumi nodded, her demeanor respectful yet resolute. "Yes, Master. We await your orders."

With a nod of acknowledgment, Aron took a moment to survey the faces of the assembled group standing at the ready waiting for his command.

The entirety of his "Family" gathered on the rooftop, Kasumi, Pethra, Scarlett, Freya, Luna, Elina, Mai, Raum, and Aurora. Alongside them stood former members of the Rat faction, Viper, and Marcus

"!!!" Viper and Marcus visibly trembled when Aron gazed at them, the two couldn't believe that this was the same man who raided their base and killed their former leader. The raw strength and aura he was emitting exceeded anything they had previously witnessed.

"Good. My command is simple," Eyes ablaze with crimson intensity, a shadowy visage of a dragon coalescing behind him.

"Eliminate those responsible for kidnapping the children, by dawn I want this faction to be no more, is that clear?"

"YES MASTER," In unison, their voices rang out with unwavering obedience, as they bowed in deference to his command.

Aron approached, placing a hand on Kasumi's shoulder. He leaned close and whispered in her ear.

"I've isolated the building, for the eyes outside everything will appear normal, Spare no effort. You have three hours. Understood?"

"Y-Yes Master," Kasumi replied, a blush gracing her cheeks at the sensation of his breath against her ear.

"Don't fail me. My little Shadow,"

"!!!" Her heart skipped a beat, her mind stuck in a state where it kept repeating the words, she longed to hear all her life.

Kasumi's race—The Fox Yokai—are beings that exist to serve, it is in their nature to seek a strong master to serve, since a lone shadow cannot survive in this law of the jungle world.

Kasumi's resolve hardened, her Yokai instincts stirring within her, she knew her place was by her master's side, and to secure it she was ready to do anything no matter the cost.

"Proceed," she commanded, turning to a certain woman within the group.

The woman—wearing the same dark-blue clothes as Kasumi and most of the other women—nodded and began channeling her magic.

Apparently, these clothes known as 'Shozoku' were traditional in the east, made specifically by the Clan Kage for their Shadow warriors known as Shinobi.

Kasumi with the help of her 'Onee-sama' and the dwarf Balin, was able to make similar ones to what she used to wear in the clan.

WOOSHH!

The woman finished casting her magic, conjuring a tempestuous vortex that transported the group from the rooftop to an alley close to the White Falcons HQ, thus initiating the operation.

Meanwhile, Aron, Aurora, Mai, Thyra, and Victoria remained on the rooftop, overseeing from afar.

Once more, Aron gestured, invoking the ancient draconic tongue to isolate the rooftop, concealing their presence from prying eyes.

"No matter how many times I witness it, it's still an overpowered ability," Thyra commented, as she summoned two metal thrones with a snap of her fingers.

"Oh! Do I hear envy in your voice, Mentor?" Aron teased settling into one of the thrones beside Thyra.

"Yes," Thyra admitted honestly, "As a warrior, any type of strength is always welcomed in my book."

She flexed her hand, contemplating her limitations. "I reached a certain level where, regardless of the countless hours I dedicated to training, my strength never increased, it felt as if something was blocking my path each time I meditate or seek enlightenment."

"Is that it?"

Thyra turned, gazing at Aron strangely, he wasn't trying to insult or trivialize her struggles, she knew that. But it sure seemed like Aron was seeing her problem as a small one.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" she inquired.

"What do I mean?" Aron thought for a moment, trying to find a good way to explain himself. "Imagine yourself strolling down a street only to suddenly encounter a wall blocking your path."

"Go on," Thyra prompted.

"What would you do?"

"I'll…Hmm?" Seeing her taking a long time to answer, Aron facepalmed, wondering if something happened to his Mentor.

"Why have you become so stupid all of a sudden, the answer is straightforward, just punch the damn wall."

"WHAT!" Thyra exclaimed, not liking being called stupid. "How does that relate to my probl—" she halted, opening her eyes wide at a realization.

"Impossible!" she murmured quickly, closing her eyes, and meditating. It was easy for her to reach deep into her mind.

Concentrating on her mana and the familiar sensation that always accompanied it, Thyra imagined the thing that was blocking her path to be a wall.

Instantaneously a towering wall of bricks materialized before her inner vision. Thyra approached the wall Adopting a combat stance.

Channeling all of her mana, she punched the wall as hard as she could, hoping to destroy it. However, the outcome fell far short of her expectations.

Crack. 

Her arm snapped, bending unnaturally in the process. Thyra winced in both physical and mental pain. The imaginary wall had manifested its resistance in a way that mirrored the true limitation within her

"UGAAAHH!"

She was angry at herself for being weak and was about to curse out loud when she caught sight of something amidst the darkness of her mind.

A fragment of the wall, smaller than a grain of rice.

"HAHAHA," Thyra burst into laughter as she held the tiny fragment of the wall.

"Is this what all my strength could do?"

Tracing her fingers along the brick wall, she mused "One step at a time, Thyra. This fragment serves as evidence that this barrier can indeed be destroyed."

…

"I see you've found your answer," Aron remarked, a smile playing upon his lips as he observed Thyra's newfound determination.

"Yes, thanks to your insight," Thyra acknowledged gratefully.

"Nahh Don't mention it," Aron waved off her gratitude nonchalantly.

Victoria and Mai exchanged silent glances, astonished by the casual rapport between the two.

 "Father... Hungry," Aurora interjected, bounding onto Aron's lap and clasping his arm with an innocent smile.

"Heheh, of course, just a moment," Aron responded, as the gauntlet adorning his left arm liquefied into a black slime-like thing, retracting to his upper arm.

"Here you go," he offered his exposed arm to Aurora, who eagerly prepared to sink her teeth into it poised to drink his blood until Thyra intervened.

"Come here, little one," Thyra beckoned softly,

Aurora hesitated, grabbing tightly onto Aron's arm unsure what to do. Understanding her fears, Aron gently stroked her hair, reassuring her. "You can trust her, Aurora, she won't harm you."

Trusting her Father, Aurora made her way to Thyra, who gently lifted her onto her lap.

Observing the golden hue of Aurora's eyes intently, Thyra gently prompted her to open her mouth, revealing two small fangs.

Without averting her gaze, Thyra inquired, "Can she endure sunlight?"

"Yes," Aron confirmed

"And do you know her origins?" Thyra pressed further.

"No, I found her in a dungeon, you know the demon and the village incident, remember?"

"Aaah! Yeah, you told me about it?"

Smiling, Thyra spoke gently, placing the girl on the ground. "You can go back."

With a swift motion, Aurora darted back into Aron's embrace.

"Do you understand what she is?" Thyra questioned.

"A Vampire"

"Yes and No."

Raising an eyebrow, Aron leaned closer. "Explain."

"She's a Dhampir, a rare hybrid born from a Vampire father and a human mother. They possess all of the strengths of vampires with none of their weaknesses."

Aron nodded, absorbing the information. "I see. That explains a lot."

Thyra nodded in agreement. "Indeed. It's rare to encounter a Dhampir, especially one so young."

"Meaning?"

"Upon birth, Dhampirs often… You know, put to rest," She didn't want to say the word with Aurora listening, but Aron and the two maids understood what she meant.

She continued, "Dhampirs are feared by vampires for good reason. While vampires grow stronger with age and the consumption of blood—mainly from humans—Dhampirs require vampire blood to thrive."

Aron nodded, understanding the significance of Thyra's words. "So, for Aurora to survive and thrive, she'll need a steady supply of vampire blood?."

Thyra shook her head. "Yes, but you must ensure she never consumes vampire blood."

"Why?"

"Dhampirs possess a heightened thirst for blood compared to vampires. Once they taste vampire blood, it's exceedingly difficult for them to revert to normalcy, often resorting to hunting vampires to quench their thirst."

Processing her words, Aron nodded in understanding. "So it's similar to vampires and humans."

"And more, Dhampirs in particular are excellent vampire hunters, as they are immune to their magic. It's no wonder vampires would stop at nothing to eradicate them—they pose a threat to their existence."

She added, gazing at Aurora. "So make sure to prevent the girl's existence from being known or they will hunt her down."

Extending his hand to Aurora, Aron tenderly stroked her hair as she drank his blood, his gaze fixed upon her innocent, joyful countenance.

With eyes burning crimson, he declared, "Let them come. A Thousand Years of torture is waiting for them."