MMORPG : Rebirth Of The Strongest Vampire God



The Bloodfall army prepared to march onwards after the provocation of Ferox Blackfang. 

Their destination was to meet with the camp of Hazelgroove Empire and with their help advance to a strategic point about 100 kilometres deep into the dark faction lands where they had established a stronghold. 

The dastardly Ferox and his legion was situated quite deep into the dark faction lands at an area where there was a great threat of being ambushed or third-partied by other powers while the Bloodfall clan was engaged in conflict against the Blackfang soldiers. 

There was an unusually determined fire in Max's eyes as he marched towards this enemy, as he had never truly thought that his opponent was the lowest of lowlife scum until he met Ferox. 

Even amongst dark faction troops his army was rumoured to be unusually ruthless and they often took part in acts such as looting, pillaging and debauchery. 

Their leader was corrupt to the core, their soldiers were corrupt to the core and the very aura around them was rotten.

But while Max was determined to march, Rudra did not feel comfortable with this attack at all. 

For some dumb reason his brother did not take his consultancy on this matter and was now making his army march towards a disadvantageous battlefield. 

Ofcourse, Rudra would not let his brother fail and come up with a strategy to make the best of the situation, but as much as he understood the situation, he felt like there was no need to personally march and take care of such a small fry. 

When the war eventually ended in the light factions victory, one could make Ferox their toilet cleaner for all that mattered- 

They could make him work as a slave for the rest of their life but now was not the moment to be sentimental. 

Now was the time to focus on the bigger picture but both the vampire king and his brother were consumed by bloodlust and were missing the point. 

Rudra had to give some credit to Ferox though, that human was smart! 

Not only did he successfully lure the Bloodfall clan to his home turf where he held all the cards, he also had an extensive network of scouts monitor the movement of the Bloodfall clan as from the moment they left the Aurelius castle, Rudra with his special eyes saw at least a dozen dark faction scouts trailing them, providing information via pets back to Ferox. 

By now Ferox knew everything about the Bloodfall clan. Their numbers, their army composition, their armour type, their weapons quality- 

Yet the vice-versa was not true. 

As of now Max had no solid information on Ferox's army, nor did he bother sending advance scouts at the moment. 

Being an elder brother was a taxing job for Rudra. 

At times he was extremely happy with how his brother grew and matured, yet at times he couldn't help but push his own nails into his palms as he couldn't comprehend how as a Lord he could be so reckless. 

Within the dark faction, Max already had a chip on his shoulder and if Rudra was Ferox, he would not waste the chance of aligning with the Mercenary King if it meant improving the odds of victory. 

The question now was… 

Did Ferox already do the same?

**************

( Mercenary King's POV )

Avans, the Mercenary King, sat in silent contemplation within his grand tent. 

His mind was a storm of thoughts, all centred around a single audacious proposal: Ferox Blackfang's offer of revenge on Ravan Bloodfall and the promise to obliterate the Bloodfall clan. 

Ravan was directly responsible for the death of his beloved youngest disciple Matumba, while indirectly responsible for the death of his third disciple Gurdan. 

Having been bitten twice by the same snake, Avans hated him to the core yet was more sensible now on as to how he should deal with him as his current priorities were bigger than petty revenge. 

Just when he was ready to put the idea of revenge to the back of his mind he recieved a letter by the young rising star human god Ferox Blackfang, requesting assistance. 

The sheer audacity of the young god's request had struck a nerve. A Tier6 god asking for a grand legion, five hundred thousand strong. 

His accomplishments, though notable, seemed dwarfed by the magnitude of the task he proposed. And yet, Avans couldn't deny the stirring of hope.

As he contemplated this offer, the massive doors of the hall creaked open, disrupting his thoughts. 

It was none other than Ferox who strode in, an air of determination surrounding him. 

He walked with the confidence of a young god who had already made his mark on the war with his strategic victories and audacious acts. He was cocky, but Avans had seen him back his claims with action.

"I am aware of your apprehensions, my lord," Ferox began, standing tall in front of Avans, wasting no time on introducing himself or why he was here. 

"Ravan Bloodfall has inflicted heavy losses on us. He is a formidable adversary." He said acknowledging Avan's apprehension fully about sending his forces to face him once more. 

Avans studied Ferox carefully. He was far from naive; he knew the young god was aware of the gravity of his proposal. Yet, there was a fire in his eyes that Avans had seen in few warriors before. 

"I do not come here with empty promises," Ferox continued, his voice echoing in the hall. "I have a plan, and the willingness to risk everything. I only ask for your trust."

Avans, a Tier8 monarch, was no stranger to war and its complexities. He had seen countless warriors rise and fall, their promises of victory echoing hollow in the aftermath of defeat. But there was something different about Ferox, something that made him want to take the gamble.

Silence enveloped the hall as Avans mulled over his decision. Finally, he leaned back on his throne, breaking the tense silence. "A legion, Ferox Blackfang. Five hundred thousand strong," he said, his voice ringing with authority. "You promise me Ravan's downfall. Fail, and it will be your own."

A momentary flash of satisfaction lit up Ferox's eyes, quickly replaced by a stern resolve. He bowed low, "Your wish, my lord, is my command."

With those words hanging in the air, the young god turned to leave, leaving Avans alone with his thoughts. He had taken his gamble. Now, the outcome rested in the hands of the audacious young god and his promise of revenge.

Had Sovereign Kane forces still to spare he would have never came to beg from help from Avans. But after the dwarf fight Kane was tight stretched. 

To defeat the Bloodfall clan he needed many troops which was why he absolutely had to come ask for help.