Beneath the Coast
Far below the ruined shoreline…
Below collapsed subway tunnels…
Below flooded sewer systems where ancient brickwork met impossible magic…
The Vampire Court remained untouched.
Candles burned with green flames.
The chamber was carved from black stone, its walls decorated with faded murals depicting an age when vampires ruled Ooo beneath a crimson sky.
At the center sat The Vampire King.
Massive.
Muscular.
A leonine head resting upon a powerful humanoid body.
His taloned hands gripped the arms of his stone throne.
Around him stood the remaining members of his court.
The Fool shifted impatiently.
The Empress folded her arms, expression unreadable.
The Moon remained silent in the darkness.
Only one chair remained empty.
The Hierophant's.
A young vampire messenger dropped to one knee.
"My King..."
"...the Hierophant has fallen."
Silence.
Heavy.
Even the torches seemed to dim.
The messenger continued carefully.
"The coastal feeding swarm was destroyed."
"Our elite escorts..."
"...were annihilated."
The Fool slammed both hands against the stone floor.
"Impossible!"
"He was only hunting humans!"
The Empress glanced sideways.
"...there was that guy there.. ."
The messenger swallowed.
"...the Lightning Wizard."
The Vampire King's claws slowly dug into his throne.
Stone cracked beneath his grip.
His voice remained calm.
Too calm.
"...again."
No one answered.
He rose.
His enormous frame cast a shadow across the chamber.
"The storm-child."
"He appears..."
"...wherever our plans begin."
His lion-like eyes narrowed.
"First my lesser colonies."
"Then my hunting grounds."
"Now one of my Court."
The chamber grew colder.
"My return is being delayed..."
"...by a single human."
The words were spoken without shouting.
Without rage.
Yet everyone present felt the restrained fury behind them.
The Moon finally spoke.
"...shall we hunt him ourselves?"
The Vampire King shook his head once.
"No."
"He grows stronger after every battle."
"We will not feed him victory."
He looked toward one of his elite vampires standing near the tunnel entrance.
Thin.
Quiet.
Eyes like polished obsidian.
"You."
The elite stepped forward immediately.
"My King."
"Travel to Wizard City."
"Listen."
"Watch."
"Discover everything known about this Lightning Wizard."
"His strengths."
"His weaknesses."
"His allies."
"His habits."
The elite bowed deeply.
"It shall be done."
Without another word, the vampire dissolved into a cloud of bats that disappeared into the sewer tunnels.
The Vampire King looked toward the distant ceiling.
Toward the surface.
Toward the storm.
"...every creature has a weakness."
"...even lightning."
---
Meanwhile…
Inside the bank vault…
The heavy steel door lay on the floor where Sam had torn it free.
The atmosphere inside had completely changed.
The children were smiling again.
Elena hadn't let go of Sam's hand since he returned.
He looked at all three of them.
"We can't stay here."
"The coast isn't safe anymore."
Elena nodded immediately.
"I trust you."
The children hurriedly gathered their blankets and small bags.
Sam lifted the heaviest supplies onto his shoulders as if they weighed nothing.
The boy carefully handed back the Demon Eye Sword.
"I kept it safe."
Sam smiled.
"You did exactly what I asked."
The boy beamed with pride.
Outside, the city remained eerily quiet.
The vampire attack had ended.
But Sam knew better.
That kind of silence never lasted.
He adjusted his pack.
Then looked inland.
Away from the ocean.
Away from the ruined metropolis.
Toward forests, hills, forgotten roads, and the mysterious interior of the continent.
"Stay close to me," he said.
"If we hear something..."
"...don't stop."
Elena gently slipped her hand into his.
Their fingers intertwined naturally.
The children walked between them.
Together, the four of them left the shattered city behind.
The morning sun slowly climbed over the horizon, its light cutting through the smoke of the old world.
For the first time in many weeks...
Sam wasn't walking alone.
He had a family to protect.
And somewhere far away
A vampire king had sent out his elite vampire to find out more about him...
And speaking of said elite....
The elite vampire did not use the surface.
It never intended to.
The old sewer network beneath Ooo stretched for hundreds of kilometers, connecting forgotten cities, abandoned subway tunnels, flooded maintenance shafts, and ancient magical catacombs that predated the Mushroom War itself.
It moved through them like a ghost.
Silent.
Patient.
Only the faint scrape of claws against damp stone marked its passing.
Hours became an entire day.
It never stopped.
Never slept.
Never fed.
Its orders came directly from the Vampire King.
Failure was not an option.
It crossed underground rivers.
Slipped through tunnels inhabited by blind oozers that never sensed it.
Avoided dormant dungeon entrances where strange things breathed in the darkness.
Several times it paused.
Listening.
A distant roar.
A magical explosion.
Something ancient stirring somewhere deeper below.
The vampire wisely changed routes.
"...Not today."
It continued.
By the following night...
The smell changed.
The air became warmer.
Mana saturated every breath.
Glowing moss covered the tunnel walls.
Old bricks gave way to polished stone engraved with floating runes.
The vampire slowed.
"...Wizard City."
Above it...
Thousands of magical signatures overlapped one another.
The city never truly slept.
It emerged through a broken maintenance shaft hidden beneath an abandoned warehouse.
Carefully.
Only its eyes appeared above the opening at first.
It scanned.
Crowds.
Floating lanterns.
Flying broomsticks.
Apprentice wizards arguing over potions.
Street performers creating tiny dragons from colored smoke.
Merchants selling enchanted trinkets beneath glowing awnings.
Life.
Magic.
Noise.
The vampire pulled its hood lower.
In a place filled with strange creatures, disguises were still useful.
It stepped into the crowd.
No one looked twice.
A troll walked past carrying books.
A tiny elemental floated overhead selling bottled lightning.
Two elderly witches loudly debated whether enchanted socks counted as cursed artifacts.
Normal.
For Wizard City.
The vampire kept to quieter streets.
Watching.
Listening.
Exactly as ordered.
Fragments of conversation drifted through the air.
"...heard about that lightning wizard?"
"...the bounty keeps increasing..."
"...supposedly fought the Vampire Court recently ..."
"... And even killed Hierophant..."
"...What!?? But that's impossible..."
It stopped.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
So the rumors had already spread.
The storm's name was growing.
That could be dangerous.
Or useful.
It melted back into the shadows, following the whispers deeper into the city's hidden districts.
Somewhere beneath the colorful facade of Wizard City...
Information was bought with secrets.
And tonight...
The vampire intended to purchase the truth.