Chapter 80: The Gathering in Darkness

"Dear Nagaz, I fear it may be inappropriate for me to broach this subject," Smith said awkwardly. "After all, our clan already has a leader now—it should be up to our distinguished chieftain to address this matter, shouldn't it?" His face wore a sly expression, as if concealing some unspoken secret.

As Smith finished speaking, the vampires instinctively parted, forming a path. A young man, splendidly dressed—the very one whose depths Nagaz could not fathom earlier—stepped forward.

Ruth approached Nagaz with a calm, composed demeanor. As he drew nearer, Nagaz felt a sudden wave of weakness surge through him like bamboo shoots after the rain, sprouting uncontrollably. But when Ruth stood by his side, that sensation vanished as abruptly as it had appeared. Ruth smiled gently, a radiance like sunlight, and Nagaz, almost unwittingly, felt himself warmed, unable to resist its pull.

"Greetings, Chairman Nagaz," Ruth said, extending his hand.

Nagaz reached out his hand as well, acting almost unconsciously; only when their hands were already clasped did he realize what he had done. His heart skipped a beat, and a thin sheen of sweat appeared on his brow. Had Ruth chosen to attack just then, Nagaz would have been powerless to resist. The strength he had once prided himself upon had never felt so fragile—an unsettling realization.

Ruth's smile remained friendly. "Let us proceed to the main matter," he said, waving his hand. It would not do for such negotiations to be conducted standing; that would be disrespectful. For a moment, the roles seemed reversed—Ruth taking on the air of the host in this domain. Together, they moved to the garden out back and took their seats beneath the wisteria vines.

"Our clan has come to discuss with you the upcoming election for the chairman of the Dark Council," Ruth said forthrightly once they were seated.

"This—" Nagaz's expression tightened, his brow furrowing in distress. He was, after all, the current chairman; for the vampires to come and discuss the next election with him before he had even stepped down was, to say the least, presumptuous.

But Ruth showed no concern. "Chairman Nagaz, I realize my words may strike you as abrupt, but it is plain that our bloodline has grown in power. Securing the chairmanship in the upcoming election would be no difficult feat. But as friends of the council, we felt it necessary, as a matter of courtesy, to give you prior notice."

A threat! Ruth's words, though couched in gentility, were full of implicit menace—though one could just as easily call them advice as warning.

Nagaz now understood the purpose behind the vampires' visit. He did not overly fear their newfound strength; after all, the rise of the bloodline meant the council itself would be stronger—a mere internal rebalancing, which could only benefit them in standing against their true enemies. If the vampires had not come to inform him, they could easily have defeated him in the election and seized the chairmanship, leaving him humiliated. Their real purpose was to persuade him to withdraw from a contest he was destined to lose.

"Chairman Nagaz, there is an ancient proverb from the distant east: 'In adversity, one seeks change; in prosperity, one remembers the source.' I believe our Dark Council needs an opportunity for growth. If our collective strength increases, what need have we to fear the Holy See?"

A wise man knows when to yield. Nagaz was self-aware enough to recognize that under his leadership, the council had not flourished. His temperament was ill-suited to command. Why not, then, do the bloodline a favor?

Having thought it through, Nagaz's expression relaxed, the tension leaving his brow. "Can you truly promise to lead the Dark Council to triumph over the Holy See?"

"Victory I cannot guarantee," Ruth replied lightly, "but I can ensure that the Holy See will never again dare to underestimate us. The council will emerge from the shadows, to stand proudly in the light before all the world." In these few simple words, one could feel Ruth's confidence—and his resolve.

"Very well, it's a deal!" Nagaz rose to his feet. The words "the council will emerge from the shadows, to stand proudly in the light before all the world" struck a chord within him. His resolve, already wavering, was inflamed by Ruth's bold declaration. That the Dark Council should one day stand before the world as a collective faith, no less revered than the Holy See—was that not his own secret wish? If he could not accomplish it himself, then he would entrust it to one who could. Without hesitation, Nagaz agreed: "In this election, I, Nagaz, will fully support your bloodline. But you must keep your promise—lead the Dark Council out of darkness and into the world!"

"As you wish!" Ruth rose as well, letting out a triumphant cry. An aura of overwhelming might, unique to the golden emperor class, burst forth, shaking the very earth and sky. His massive golden wings, inscribed with mysterious runes, unfurled in a dazzling display. All those present were forced to bow beneath the weight of his presence. Only when Ruth noticed the effect of his excitement and withdrew his aura did the assembly dare wipe the cold sweat from their brows.

"Satan, Lord of Darkness—could it be that our Dark Council is finally poised to rise?" Having felt Ruth's unparalleled power, Nagaz knew his compromise was truly wise.

Far away in the Vatican, the Pope's eyes snapped open. The golden staff in his hand traced a curve through the air, then came to rest upon the altar. "Such evil darkness—such formidable power!" he murmured, closing his eyes again. "The Sixth Holy War is upon us."

At that moment, Cold Flame also sensed Ruth's overwhelming energy. "He is certainly flamboyant—but I like it. Should I stir the pot further? Yes, I should—the calm before the storm is so quiet, so profound. Let the storm come with all its fury!"

※※※ Feather ※※※ Emperor ※※※

A few nights later, on a certain evening, dark creatures from all corners of the world converged upon a small town in Italy. The Dark Council was about to celebrate its grandest festival—the election of the council chairman.

The gathering was immense—dark beings from across the globe assembled to witness the event. In a concealed ancient castle, the crowds were so dense that even the grounds outside were a sea of black. A rough estimate put the number of gathered dark creatures at no less than a million. Excluding the lower ranks, there were at least a hundred thousand high-level dark beings alone.

Among these elites, the vampires, dark wizards, various beastmen, and night elves were the principal players—yet none could outshine the vampires, who would tonight display their unimaginable might. Led by Ruth, the golden emperor, thirteen emperor-class vampires marched at the fore, followed by fifteen grand dukes, then more than sixty dukes, hundreds of marquises, and thousands of counts, viscounts, and barons. The knights were temporarily excluded.

All the dark creatures were astonished—when had the vampires become so overwhelmingly powerful? Soon, cheers erupted, especially among the weaker beings. The world of darkness was one where the strong preyed upon the weak, but the cruelty of the strong paled in comparison to the suffering inflicted by the Holy See. The vampires, now such a formidable force within the council, could only mean greater protection for the weak. Whenever the strong among the dark creatures saw the weak bullied by the Holy See, they would always lend a hand.

The other races, witnessing the vampires' dominance, were both awed and unnerved. The bloodline truly deserved its title as the pillar of the Dark Council—their power was no mere legend. With such strength, even the Holy See would have to take heed. Pride in the past now vanished without a trace; only a fool would remain arrogant in the face of such power. This, indeed, was what it meant to be formidable.

Golden emperor-class—those familiar with the vampires' hierarchy were dumbstruck. Such a level had never before appeared among them; what could it mean? And the emperors, the princes, the dukes—when had the bloodline become so prosperous? Questions abounded; the more one understood, the more extraordinary it all seemed.

As the vampires displayed their strength, the Dark Council's election reached its climax. The outcome was inevitable: Nagaz, once a strong contender, announced his withdrawal, and Ruth, as the new vampire chief, naturally claimed the chairmanship.

Cheers and cries erupted, drowning out the entire castle. No stadium, no matter how large, could match the scale of this outpouring. From the castle’s heart, the hills and valleys for miles around resounded with the frenzied jubilation of millions of dark beings.

It was a night of madness, the dark exultation filling the night air with feverish excitement. Let it grow ever more intense—the world itself was on the verge of chaos.

What Ruth did not know was that as he assumed the chairmanship of the Dark Council, the first great war with the Holy See was already imminent.

Just a few kilometers from the gathering, countless devotees and warriors of the Holy See were making their preparations.

A white-robed bishop, having heard his subordinate’s report, curled his lips in a cold smile. The clergy of the Holy See held little fondness for creatures of darkness. "Tonight, the Lord will grant us victory. We will show these wretched beings their true devil."

Meanwhile, at several other points around the castle, squads of Holy See warriors—every group led by a white-robed bishop—awaited in silence. Clearly, the Holy See was determined; each group numbered around a thousand, most capable of wielding the power of light, with squads of silver-armored soldiers and even a few scattered members of the Sacred Knights among them.

Eight bishops, nearly ten thousand elite clergy—if one looked closely, one could see that, in addition to the eight white-robed bishops, a single cardinal stood quietly in the shadows, observing.

But for all their meticulous planning, the Holy See had miscalculated. They had no inkling of just how terrifying the vampires' strength had become.

It was a night of blackest moon and wildest winds—the perfect night for bloodshed and arson.

At a single command, the Holy See’s forces attacked from eight directions at once, vowing to exterminate every creature of darkness gathered there…