Chapter 15: Bloodlines Unveiled

Victor stood before the imposing gates of the old mansion, his senses on high alert. The air was heavy with a palpable sense of dread, and the darkness seemed to seep from the very stones of the building. He knew he was walking into danger, but he also knew that answers awaited him within.

As he entered the mansion's grand foyer, Victor's keen senses picked up on a presence lurking in the shadows. He tensed, preparing for whatever lay ahead. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness—a vampire, pure-blooded and ancient, with eyes that gleamed like polished onyx.

"You're not like the others," the vampire said, his voice smooth and commanding. "There's something different about you."

Victor met the vampire's gaze, his expression unreadable. "And who are you to make such judgments?"

The vampire smiled, revealing gleaming fangs. "I am Lord Draven, master of this domain. And I sense that you are no ordinary half-blood. Tell me, who made you?"

Victor hesitated, weighing his words carefully. "A woman... with hair as white as snow and eyes as red as blood. She was... powerful."

Lord Draven's eyes narrowed with interest. "A powerful vampire indeed. And what powers do you possess, half-blood?"

Victor remained silent, his mind shielded from Draven's probing gaze. He knew the danger of revealing too much, especially to one as ancient and cunning as Draven.

Draven chuckled, sensing Victor's reluctance. "Ah, you are wary. Wise, for one of your kind. But know this, half-blood: there are levels to our kind. We are not all equal."

Victor raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "Levels?"

Draven nodded, his expression grave. "Yes. We vampires are divided into three classes: Lord, Count, and King. Each level brings greater power and influence. I, as a Lord, am more powerful than most, but even I must answer to those of higher rank."

Victor absorbed this information, his mind racing with possibilities. If Draven was a Lord, then he was indeed a formidable opponent. But Victor had faced worse in his time, and he refused to be intimidated.

"Tell me, Lord Draven," Victor said, his voice steady. "Why do you seek me out? What interest do you have in a mere half-blood like myself?"

Draven's eyes gleamed with amusement. "You intrigue me, half-blood. Your power is unlike anything I've encountered before. I would have you join me, serve at my side as my enforcer. Together, we could rule this city."

Victor's jaw tightened at the suggestion. "I serve no one. Least of all, a vampire."

Draven's smile faded, replaced by a look of cold calculation. "Then you leave me no choice. If you will not join me willingly, then I will have to take what I need by force."

With that, Draven lunged forward, his speed and strength far surpassing that of any vampire Victor had faced before. But Victor was no ordinary half-blood. He met Draven's attack head-on, his movements fluid and precise.

The battle raged on, each blow echoing through the cavernous halls of the mansion. Victor's powers were put to the test, his ability to read Draven's thoughts and manipulate his actions proving invaluable. But Draven was relentless, his centuries of experience and raw power pushing Victor to his limits.

As the fight reached its climax, Victor unleashed a final, devastating strike, driving his blade deep into Draven's heart. The ancient vampire roared in agony, his form dissolving into mist as he crumbled to the ground.

Victor stood victorious, his chest heaving with exertion. But he knew that Draven was only the beginning. The shadows of Stonebridge ran deep, and there were still many secrets left to uncover.

As he prepared to leave the mansion behind, Victor felt a newfound sense of purpose. He would not rest until he had purged every last vestige of darkness from the city, no matter the cost.